little moments....BIG LIFE!

gray matter

2011-09-14T00:51:00.010-05:00

My Ian has always had such a soft heart.

When he gets in trouble, when he knows he deserves it, he takes his punishment with a hard swallow and sometimes a quiet tear. Mostly, it hurts his heart to know he's disappointed me and his dad. On the flip side, if he thinks he doesn't deserve it, or thinks the punishment is unfair, and especially if another just-as-guilty party is getting off scott free, he comes unraveled and fights tooth and nail for justice. The kid's right-and-wrong meter is fine-tuned. It's hard for him to see gray matter in his black-or-white world.

He knows that no matter what, I won't stand for lying. If I can count on Ian for anything, it's to tell me the truth. Aidan, not so much. I have to wonder about his honesty sometimes. But Ian... never. He knows how much it hurts me, to be lied to, and for that reason, he just won't allow himself to go there.

He loves his friends. He wants nothing more in this world than to have friends and to spend time hanging out doing Ian-and-friends types of things, which includes Legos, computer gaming, kickball, football, drawing cartoons, and lots and lots of giggling. Oh - and birthday parties. That boy loves a good party.

Which is why it bothered him to learn that one of his friends had a birthday party this summer and didn't invite him.

Ian asked his friend about it, and his friend said, "Well, see, I only invited two people." That made Ian feel better, though he was still sad to have been left out. But he accepted it and moved on. THEN he learned the truth, as other friends began talking about the party. There had been more than two. Ian had definitely been left out, and he was crushed.

When I got home from work today, he came straight to me, looked me in the eye, and said, "Mom. I had to knock Gregory off my friend list today." Then his eyes brimmed up and he looked down at his feet, trying not to give in to the tears.

"What on earth?" I asked. "Why?"

"Because he lied to me," he said softly. Then he told me all about the birthday party.

He understands that Gregory was trying to spare his feelings, but it doesn't matter. He was lied to, and he hates that feeling.

I also feel bad for Gregory, though. He was trying to soften the blow, and honestly, I think the poor kid was in a hard place himself. See, his Mom wanted us to invite Gregory over all of last school year. She dropped hints that she wanted a play date, but we never offered. It's not because we didn't want to. We're just so... and it makes me cringe to admit this... so busy. I hate that it's true. I don't want to be one of "those" families. But here we are. And it's not even the family... it's ME. It's my work schedule. I give too much of myself to it. I don't know how NOT to. I feel burdened by the responsibility I have there, and the lack of anyone else to do what needs to be done. I'm not alone - this is the dilemma of every single person who gives their life to working for a small nonprofit. But I have to find balance. I really believe that Ian was left off the birthday invitation list because we never invited Gregory over last year.

Even so... Ian could've handled the truth.

It's the lie that hurt him so. He understands why he wasn't invited. That part is black and white. It's the gray matter - the lie - that he's struggling with.

My heart hurts for him.
And I hate that in some roundabout way, it all comes back to me.

day 19: a song from your favorite album

2011-08-30T00:11:00.002-05:00

Whoops. Life got busy again, as it always tends to do. I wish I could get a grip on that.

Tonight, I was listening to music, as I often do late at night. There was a time when I'd listen to the radio almost exclusively. Then there was a time when I listened to my collection of vinyl, tapes, CDs. These days, it almost always happens like this: I decide (for whatever random reason) that I want to hear a specific song, or perhaps a specific artist, so I head to YouTube. From there, I just follow the trail of whatever pops up next in the queue. Tonight, I can't remember now what made me want to hear Clapton, but something triggered him in my mind, and I've been losing myself in his guitar riffs ever since. I never tire of him. He can turn a two-and-a-half minute song into a 7-minute work of pure, incredible art, and not lose me in the middle of it. Amazing.

So along the way, I decided to listen to my all-time favorite album of his (via YouTube, of course, because it meant I didn't have to go digging through my CDs. Click click, VOILA, instant music.) The album? Unplugged. I remember when it came out. Back in the day, we didn't have cable. We had a rabbit ears antenna with foil wrapped around it and a wire coat hanger sticking out the top of that, but even all that effort couldn't get us MTV. (Remember when MTV actually cared about music?) So we missed the Unplugged series when it was on TV, but somehow managed to discover it - specifically Clapton's show - on CD later. I think I read a review in the paper or something. Anyway.

Listening to it made me think of this blog and how I'd neglected to ever finish the challenge, so I looked it up to see where I'd left off. Serendipity! The next challenge on the list was this one! It's a no-brainer - tonight, anyway. Tonight, my favorite album is Eric Clapton's Unplugged. Favorite song from the album is harder. I've always loved the blues-y covers, especially "Before You Accuse Me". Darren loves "San Francisco Bay Blues". I could've sworn there was a song on this album about walking on snow or somesuch, but clearly my memory has faded. It's not here.

But for the purpose of this blog, I'm gonna list this one as my favorite on the album, knowing full well that I might pick another one in half an hour:

...UPDATE...
Solved the mystery of the snow song! It was on an album called "Unplugged Collection, Vol 1", which included Clapton's "Before You Accuse Me", and also "Barefoot", by KD Lang. I guess I associated that song with Clapton because of the other one. I am getting old. I haven't listened to it in years until tonight. Still like it.

day 18: a song that makes you laugh

2011-07-13T20:37:00.005-05:00

I hate mornings.

Hate is a strong word, so let me clarify.

I hate mornings.

It doesn't matter when I go to bed: 8 pm or 4 am... that 7:00 alarm goes off too soon. Darren is laughing his head off right now, because I NEVER get up with the 7:00 alarm. Here's my confession: during the school year, he gets up first and wakes the kids, then gets their breakfast. Usually he's up way earlier than that for his morning run. Freak of nature, he is.

Once the boys are chowing down on Cap'n Crunch, he heads back upstairs and reminds me that it's morning time. I sometimes hear him, I sometimes don't. Check that. I always hear him, I rarely care. Most of the time, I can't bring myself to move or even open an eyelid. Mornings make me want to say bad words and hurl insults at fluffy kittens and stomp on freshly bloomed tulips. I lie there for a solid 10 minutes before I can will myself to snarl and kick the sheet off. During that ten minutes, I'm concocting amazingly creative excuses for why I can't get out of bed today. Sometimes, I come so close to using crazy excuses (I'm sorry, I can't come in to work because a rogue raccoon broke into my house last night and destroyed everything we own and ate my cat and stole all my Christopher Radko...) that when crazy things DO happen - and they do happen - I wonder if people will believe me. I fantasize about sleeping another 10 minutes.

By now, Darren's had his shower and is gently shaking my shoulder with the end of a broomstick, careful not to get too close to Sleeping Beauty lest she wakes up as The Incredible Hulk and rips his arms out of his sockets. I open an eye, but only a slit. I scowl. I burrow my frows. I swim through the fog until the red numbers on the clock come into focus, then I growl at them for it. I plant my feet on the hardwood, stab my right eye with the left earpiece of my glasses, then stumble half-baked-from-sleep to the bathroom where I again growl at Darren for good measure. He says something along the lines of, "Good morning, sleepyhead." In turn, I tell him to choke on his toothbrush.

I don't speak. I don't smile. I go through the motions until everyone's out the door. My children are cautious around me, and leave a wide berth. I usually drive, but I drive like an old lady. Sometimes, Darren says, "Are you sleep driving again? 'Cause the speed limit's thirty on this street, and you're going... 12."

By the time I've been awake for an hour or so, I return to human form, and I'm Happy Me for the rest of the day. GO GO GO GO GO GO GO! Until that alarm goes off the next morning. And then....

This song is hysterical. The first time I heard it, I was in the car and I cracked up laughing, out loud, all by myself. It was written for ME, y'all. Every single morning, I don't feel like doing anything. Nothing at all. I came home later and YouTubed it, and the video is hilarious. Those monkey suits crack me right up. At least tonight, they do. Tomorrow morning, I'm likely to tell them to .... well, you get the idea.

day 17 - a song when you're sad

2011-07-12T03:00:00.003-05:00

I don't often feel sad. I can't remember the last time I cried.

Wait. I cry often, but at the silliest things. Case in point: I was watching Chopped on The Food Network the other day, and the freaky looking chef with the huge red plugs in his ears really, realllllllly wanted to win, and when he did, I had to wipe away a tear I was so happy for him. Seriously, the whole show had been grossing me out (they had to use eel and duck hearts and other narsty ingredients), and the chef himself made me curl my lip (those long, hanging earlobes kept flapping in the breeze as he chopped and stirred and whipped and sauteed), but that dude needed the $10,000 for his poor stay-at-home-wife and kid. I don't know, it got to me.

So this challenge is to write about a song that I listen to when I'm sad. I happened to be listening to Coldplay when I looked up the challenge. Every now and then, there'll be a nuance or a lyric or even a drumbeat that reminds me of U2. And when that happens, I at once feel disdain for Coldplay (who can never be U2) and affection for Chris Martin, whose musicianship really is astounding. I love his falsetto voice. It's haunting, yet can be playful, too. It's hard to tell when he switches registers - it just seems so effortless. Coldplay is easy to listen to. There's not a song of theirs that I dislike, but at the same time, none of their songs really stand out to me as all-time favorites, either. Their sound is just pleasant. Pleasant isn't bad - the world needs more pleasant, in my opinion.

Recently, I became obsessed with the song Fix You. It's an oldie, but was resurrected on NBC's latest singing show "The Voice". I was mesmerized. A few days later, Dani showed me a dance interpretation of the song, and I cried. Seriously, it was so beautifully interpreted that I had to wipe fat, hot tears from my face. Clicky to watch it for yourself. I'm not a dancer, but I would imagine that this is pretty close to technical perfection - and WOW, what a beautiful, beautiful love song. Coldplay's sound on this song is like velvet around my shoulders, or warm sand on my toes, or a shaft of sunlight caressing my face on a cold, winter day.

But that's not the Coldplay song that I'm highlighting for this challenge. A song that makes me sad when I hear it is The Scientist. I've never understood why it's called that, but what a sad song. Still pleasant enough to the ears, but... gollygeewhiz sad. It's a song of regret, and what-could-have-been, and deep yearning to go "back to the start". How many of us have felt that at one point or another? And yet, as sad and broken as the lyrics are on their own, they're given new meaning when you watch the video, which I had never seen until tonight. Watch it. You'll keep wondering what the heck it all means, but at the end, you'll be left with your mouth gaping open and with big, fat tears dripping off your chin.

day 16 - a song with clever lyrics

2011-06-27T00:07:00.004-05:00

Today's challenge was supposed to be "a song you used to like and now you hate". Meh. Whatever. I asked Darren to give me a new one, and he said, "A song with clever lyrics".

Immediately, I clapped my hands and said, "I know which one!!"... and turned to my keyboard to start typing.

He replied, with a snark in his voice, "... that alliterative one?"

"Yes. How'd you know?" I asked.

"I know you," he replied.

He thinks it's a dumb song that makes no sense. Maybe it is. I still love it.

But because of his immediate correct guess, i thought I'd so some soul-searching. What other lyrics do I think are clever?

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking.
Racing around to come up behind you again.
- - - Pink Floyd, "Time"

People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share,
and no one dares disturb the Sound of Silence.
- - - Simon & Garfunkel, "Sounds of Silence"

I think that every Rush song ever recorded has amazingly clever lyrics, but I'm choosing this one because I love the rhyme scheme:

And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones to start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the Heart

The Blacksmith and the Artist
Reflect it in their art
Forge their creativity
Closer to the Heart

Philosophers and Ploughmen
Each must know his part
To sow a new mentality
Closer to the Heart

You can be the Captain
I will draw the Chart
Sailing into destiny
Closer to the Heart
- - - Rush, "Closer to the Heart"

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
- - - Green Day, "Good Riddance"

This one just cracks me up:

I love you like a fat kid loves cake
- - - 50 Cent, "21 Questions"

------------------
Ok, it's been 3 hours and I've listened to U2, Sting, Neil Young, the Eagles, Randy Newman, Coldplay, Led Zeppelin (who, by the way, sang about Lord of the Rings and I never noticed it until this weekend on our road trip when Darren noticed it. Check out the lyrics to "Ramble On": T'was in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair. But Gollum, and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her, her, her....yeah....)

I could be up all night searching for the song with the most clever lyrics. But instead, seeing as how I have to be at work in 7 hours, I'll just stick with the one that popped in to my head in the first place. :)

day 15 - a song that describes you

2011-06-23T01:31:00.002-05:00

I decided a long, long time ago that life is what you make it.

I was a shy kid. (No, really, I was!) In fact, in second grade, I was so enamored of my teacher and so shy that I was HORRIFIED at the thought of asking her for permission to go to the restroom. So instead, I sat at my little desk and wet my pants. Not once, but twice. After the second time, my Mom made me hang a green plaid double-knit homemade one-piece zippered-up jumpsuit in my locker, and I knew that if I wet myself again, I'd have to change into that horrid outfit. I don't know if she knew how much I hated it, but the fact that I can describe it in detail and still feel the wedgie it gave me speaks for itself. So does the fact that I decided I'd rather approach the front of the room and speak to Mrs. Wright than wear it.

In 7th grade, I was still shy, and utterly miserable. There were a million kids I didn't know, and I was too shy to do anything about it. I was a wallflower the whole year long, and was disgusted at myself for it. That summer, I decided it was now or never: I needed a reinvention. On the first day of 8th grade, I came out of my shell, complete with surround sound and strobe lights and a bullhorn. I would be SHY NO MORE. I realized almost immediately that life was grand when you actually had the courage to LIVE it. I never looked back.

In college, I was the queen of figuring out how to have fun on the cheap. Everything was reason to celebrate, God was worthy of all my praise, and life was just FUN. I couldn't afford anything I wanted - or even needed, for that matter - but it was okay. Just living on my own was enough. I applied a million times for credit at the electronics store near the video store where I worked. I NEEDED a stereo system. With all my heart, I wanted one. I applied every few months, and was denied each time. (Ding ding ding on my credit report. I had no idea I was making it worse!) But even with that minor heartbreak each time, I was okay. I'd just try again! It's not having what you want...It's wanting what you've got.

As an eternal optimist, I've always given people the benefit of the doubt. I always think people can change, even after proving me wrong 12 times in a row. Some of my deepest heartache has come from believing and hoping in that. Finally, sometime in the last decade, I learned that it wasn't my responsibility to make miserable people happy, or to save people who wanted to flounder, or to join the cast of people who needed their lives to be Lifetime dramas. I allowed myself to let go. That part was easy; getting over the guilt of letting go was a lot harder. Every time I turn around I'm looking up, you're looking down...Maybe something's wrong with you That makes you act the way you do

I'm not saying I never have bad days. Word To The Mommas, I do. In fact, I'm coming off a pretty nasty streak of funk right now. But for the most part, my mantra is to soak up the sun. Sometimes I have to give myself a swift kick in the pants and tell myself to lighten up, but...

"I've got no one to blame. For every time I feel lame I'm looking up..."

day 14 - a song that people would be surprised you like

2011-06-22T00:27:00.002-05:00

I'm pretty vocal about my disdain for country music. It makes me want to punch our cat in the face. Poor cat. She doesn't deserve that.

I say I hate it, but even I have to recognize that there are strains of it filtering throughout this blog challenge. When I force myself to think about it, I realize that my song choices for days 1, 6, 8, and 10 have country leanings, however subtle they may be. And so let me issue a disclaimer right here: I hate country music, but Johnny Cash, Don Williams, Paul Overstreet, and John Denver don't count. Oh - and The Judds' "Love Can Build A Bridge" doesn't count, either. BUT OTHER THAN THAT...

ahem.

About 4 years ago, I was getting ready one morning while Good Morning America kept me company on the TV, and it was one of their outdoor concert series days. The TV was in my bedroom, and I was listening from the bathroom nearby, but not watching. Kenny Chesney was scheduled to perform, and I could not have cared less.

He started singing, and I still didn't care. Then he got to the chorus, and I caught myself wandering into the bedroom, then realized I was fixated to the TV. I loved the chorus! I loved loved loved the words. The he sang the last verse, and I thought, DADGUM IT ALL, I'm gonna have to buy a country song. I'm pretty sure I HMPHed about it, too.

I haven't listened to the song in a long time now, until tonight, and I'm wondering why I don't give it more air time. I really, really like it. That oughta shock the pants off some of you, and it'll make Heidi really, really proud.

Well, I'm what I am
And I'm what I'm not.
And I'm sure happy
With what I've got.
I live to love and laugh a lot,
And thats all I need.

Never wanted nothin' more.
And I never wanted nothin' more.

day 13 - a song that is a guilty pleasure

2011-06-20T23:43:00.003-05:00

I love CeeLo with his big ol' smile and his Elton John-esque style. But I have a confession. I didn't even know who he was until Glee covered the PG version of "F You". When Santana says to Gwyneth, "What would you know about CeeLo? 'Cause you're like, forty."... um, yeah. She coulda been talking to me.

Immediately, I was a fan. As soon as the show was over, I hopped on iTunes and listened to CeeLo's original version and then the safe-for-kids version. Then I bought "Forget You", twice.

Here's the guilty-pleasure part: I like Gwyneth's version better! I think it's because I heard hers first, and also that I was so smitten with her sassy character on the show. I feel as though I should have my music license revoked for admitting this out loud, but I guess that's what also makes it a guilty pleasure. I'm kinda embarrassed that I like it so much, but I sho' nuff do love to sing along at the top of my lungs!

HIT IT!

day 12 - a song that makes you want to...cuddle

2011-06-19T23:58:00.003-05:00

The official Day 12 challenge is "a song from a band you hate". I thought about it for a long time. I don't hate any musicians. There are some I certainly don't enjoy, but it's no fun to write about stuff that drives you nuts (Rihanna, specifically "Only Girl (in the world)" - yawwwwwwn) or makes you cranky (the way Rebecca St James ends every phrase with a grunty sigh) or makes you snarl (Lady GaGa, now that we all know you have legitimate pipes, Put On Some Pants. Gah.)

So I asked my FB friends for another topic, and Cara immediately replied with the challenge in the title above. Before I could even take a breath, I knew which song I'd use. :)

I don't have much to say about it, except that the rhythm is perfection and Jon Bon Jovi's voice drips with sensuality. The first time I heard it, I had the urge to grab Darren by the face and plant a wet sloppy one right on his kisser. Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. That's none o' your bizness. :D

day 11 - a song from your favorite band

2011-06-18T23:58:00.004-05:00

Asking me to choose a favorite Pink Floyd song is like asking me to name my favorite child.

No, it's even harder - I only have three children. There are a thousand Pink Floyd songs I love. At least a hundred. Well, dozens. Okay, twenty some-odd. Whatever. I love Pink Floyd.

Most of their lyrics are somber, melancholy, dark, brooding, insane. Admittedly, they don't match my personality. I don't know what most of them mean, and I'm okay with that. People say you have to be on drugs to understand. I will admit here that drugs don't necessarily help. I used to watch The Wall every couple of months. It's a freaking disturbing movie, but the music is amazing. I remember my first roommate in college would get sick to death of me watching it, and would leave the room in a big huff when I put the tape in. Oops.

So why do I love it so much? I don't know. Their music is brilliance. Every song is multi-layered and dimensional. I love the maelstrom of unusual harmonies, the symphonic bits, the bluesy/jazzy riffs, the psychedelic melodies. They sounded like no one before them, and no one after them has come close to duplicating their genius.

During the course of the 90s and into the early 2000s, I got rid of all of my cassette tapes. I still have all my Pink Floyd ones, though. I can't seem to let them go. I have every one of them, packed safely in a box in my closet. Is that weird? I still haven't accumulated all of them on CD. I'm missing the more obscure ones, and somewhere along the way, I lost The Wall. I should replace it. Maybe someday.

I saw them live in 1988 at Cowboys Stadium. Three things stand out to me from that concert: 1) I learned what it meant to "drop acid". Silly me, I had no idea why my friends were sucking on little pieces of paper until hours later; 2) I was desperately trying to impress the guy I was with by smoking a cigarette, but foolishly tried to light up in the back of a convertible while flying down the freeway, and he laughed; and 3) out of the dozens of concerts I'd attended, none came close to comparing to Pink Floyd. From the lasers and crazy psychedelic effects to the infamous flying pig to the flawless musicianship, I was mesmerized.

When trying to think of what my favorite song might be, I immediately came up with four from which to choose: Comfortably Numb & Hey You (both from The Wall), Wish You Were Here (album of the same name), and Us & Them (Dark Side of the Moon). Then I remembered Pigs (from Animals), Brain Damage/Eclipse (Dark Side), Have A Cigar (WYWH), and Great Gig in the Sky (Dark Side), which has no lyrics, but features an amazing woman with an ethereal voice named Clare Torry who wails hauntingly throughout the whole song.

----------------

...okay. Three hours have passed since I started this post. I've subjected Darren to nonstop Pink Floyd, sometimes the same songs more than once. Every now and then, he'd laugh when I'd get all excited and profess that "THIS one is my favorite." He finally gave up and went to bed. I got up and poured a glass of tea, promising to head upstairs soon. When I sat back down at the computer, I realized that the challenge is simply to choose A SONG from your favorite band, not your favorite song from your favorite band. Well, then. THAT makes it easier. *whew*!

Comfortably Numb features arguably one (actually two) of the best guitar solos of all time, at the hands of the great David Gilmour. Gilmour and Waters share lead vocals - Gilmour singing the lighter parts (..."when I was a child") and Waters singing the darker parts (...it's just a little pinprick). And.... it is the first song that came to mind when I started this post. One more listen, and then I'm really heading upstairs.

day 10 - a song that makes you sleep

2011-06-18T01:28:00.003-05:00

In high school, I got in the habit of sleeping with headphones on. I was convinced that I couldn't sleep without my music, and who knows - maybe it was true. I listened to the radio - sometimes rock, occasionally all-night trucker radio, and on Sunday nights, Dr. Demento on 98.1 The Zoo.

My second year of college, I lived in a tiny two-room rental house that had been someone's slave quarters many years before. I'd never lived alone, and for the most part, I loved it. But I hated the nights. I slept not with headphones, but with my stereo playing softly enough that I could hear scary noises should they happen to occur.

I had a mix tape that I played most every night during those 9 months. It started with James Taylor's Greatest Hits, then moved on to several Simon and Garfunkel songs before the 90-minute tape ran out. I still remember what the tape looked like - it had a clear body - Memorex, I think - with bright yellow and magenta blocks of color on it where I wrote "Goodnight Moonlight Ladies". I can't believe I remember that.

Sometimes, the tape played through and I'd still be lying there trying to fall asleep, watching the shadows dance on the wall across the room. Most times, though, I'd drift off to James Taylor's soothing vocals, and awaken briefly when the stereo's "play" button popped up at the end of the tape. For some reason, I was sort of embarrassed about my love for his music. Whatever. I had dozens of classic rock albums and 80s tapes; posters of Jim Morrison, John Lennon and Pink Floyd adorned my walls. But it was James Taylor who rocked me to sleep.

When I finally converted to CDs in the early 90s, James Taylor's Greatest Hits was the first one I bought. His voice is so pure, so smooth, so unpretentious. There's nothing fancy about it, nothing cheesy, nothing showy. He exudes a gentleness that eases my mind and calms my soul. Forty-plus years after he first hit the scene, his music is still relevant. I can't listen to him and not be moved.

Oh, rockabye, Sweet Baby James.

day 09 - a song that you can dance to

2011-06-16T23:06:00.003-05:00

I grew up in the Church of Christ. And it wasn't today's version, either. It was the 1970s-80s version when dancing was a sin, and a big one. I was only allowed to go to Favorites and Prom after promising my parents I wouldn't dance. They needn't have worried; I didn't know how, and I was painfully aware of that fact. All my friends had been properly schooled on dance etiquette and how to make your body move to the groove in years of tap, jazz, ballet, and Stardusters classes. The only dance move I knew was The Awkward Sway, with your knees locked and your shoulders slumped and not having a clue where to put your hands that wasn't WRONG. Anybody with me?

Men Without Hats had a popular song back then called "Safety Dance". "Your friends don't dance and if they don't dance, well they're no friends of mine." I loved that song, but hated it at the same time, 'cause I was "the friends". (Back then, I had no idea the song was about nuclear war. Still not sure it really was, but I digress.)

Sometime in adulthood, when I finally came to the realization that dancing isn't wrong, I decided to go all out. When I dance, I do this funky thing with my mouth that I don't mean to do. I don't dance so much as flail. It's not pretty. It sure isn't technical. It usually evokes raucus laughter. But I can't help it. When I feel it coming on, it hardly matters who I'm with or where I am - this girl's gotta dance! I suppose it's all those repressed dances of my youth trying to get out at once.

There's not a song in the world that awakens my inner dance freak like this one does. For a long time, it was the primary ring tone on my cell phone, but eventually, I had to change it because I kept missing calls. See, when it would start ringing, I'd start dancing, and before I could control myself, the call had gone to voicemail. Also, my phone rings a lot and Darren was starting to really hate the song. I couldn't allow THAT to happen!

One time at a scrapbooking retreat, I was sitting at my table minding my own business, when I noticed that everyone was laughing. At me. Sure enough, they were, 'cause one of my friends had played this song on her iPod and told everyone to watch me. Just as she'd predicted, I'd immediately started dancing in my seat, oblivious that anyone was paying attention. Those first five notes could wake me up from ANYwhere!

I like to joke that I was born the wrong color in the wrong decade.
Darren says if I would dance to this song once a day, I'd be fit and trim.

Here I go!

day 08 - a song you know all the words to

2011-06-12T15:37:00.003-05:00

I tend to know all the words to just about every song I've ever liked. It's a weird thing, my memory. As a kid, I often wondered how it was that I could memorize lyrics without even batting an eyelash, and yet I had the hardest time remembering facts that were crucial to passing, say, geometry. If only Dr. Bergren had taught chemistry in song, I'd have done better in her class, too. As an adult, I often joke that I can remember who sang every one hit wonder that ever hit the charts, but I can't remember when the War of 1812 happened. My brain is crowded with miscellaneous musical fluff.

For most of my young teens, I was obsessed with Journey, to the point that now in my young 40s, I can still sing every word and every nuance of every song on both the Frontiers and Escape albums. Same thing with James Taylor's Greatest Hits (Vol 1), The Eagles' Greatest Hits (1 and 2), Kansas (the best of), and Pink Floyd's The Wall. And then there are the other thousand or so songs I can sing beginning to end. I can't even begin to name them all. Stairway to Heaven, Bohemian Rhapsody, and every other legendary song is on the list, as well as more obscure stuff like The Judys' "Milk". (It's fortified! With vitamins! It's pasteurized! I love it! It's ho-mo-genized....") It's a sickness, really.

But for the purpose of this challenge, I'm gonna go with John Denver. As a kid, I abhorred the man and his country bumpkim voice. It wasn't really him I hated though, but rather, what I associated him with. See, at my house, Saturday was cleaning day at the Agee house. From the time we woke up until late afternoon, we deep cleaned. If we finished our assigned chores too early, we either got to do them again, or we were given a new task, such as "clean out the shed", or "organize the garage". We learned to make our indoor chores last all day. And the soundtrack to Cleaning Day was John Denver. *shudder*

Mom was a fanatic. She loved him more than any other singer - ever - and owned every album he ever released. She'd stack those albums up on the stereo, carefully place the needle at the beginning of the first one, and as the hours ticked by, those albums dropped to the turntable one by one by one by one. "You fill up my senses like a night in the forest"... "Almost heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River" ... "sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy"....

Sometimes I'd catch myself scrubbing the oven, singing along and enjoying myself, which made me hate it even worse. I made it my goal to hate John Denver despite myself.

Then a funny thing happened. As an adult, I found myself craving his music from time to time, especially, to my great chagrin, when I was cleaning house. I was just about to the point of actually appreciating his music when he died tragically in a plane crash off the California coast. I remember the next day at work, how my boss mourned his death exactly like I imagined my Mom was mourning up in Oklahoma. And oddly, I mourned him, too. He defined my childhood - not just because he was the soundtrack to Saturday Cleaning Day, but also because our family vacations were spent in the Rocky Mountains, and his songs, by definition, conjured up those wonderful memories.

These days, I love John Denver's music. In fact, tonight, Darren is taking me to Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra's Concerts in the Garden, featuring "Country Roads: The Music of John Denver". I can't wait. As soon as I publish this post, I'll head out to Central Market to buy some frou-frou picnic food and spirits to enjoy while we kick back and enjoy "...and hey it's good to be back home again....". Yeah. Be proud, Mom. You raised me right. I love John Denver.

This isn't my favorite JD song -not by a long shot- but I can't pick a favorite. So I'm using this one anyway, because I *do* know every word, and who doesn't love the Muppets?! *grin*

day 07 - a song that reminds you of a specific event

2011-06-11T23:06:00.003-05:00

We were 150 miles from home, headed for Colorado. All was well. Dani and the boys were watching a movie in the backseat. I was snoozing shotgun, and Darren was driving. In the CD player was a mix called "Stuff Darren Likes", and Aaron Neville's "Crazy Love" was playing.

I always snooze in the car, and this time, I was sleeping pretty hard. All of a sudden, I heard a grinding, screeching sound, and the car was slowing down FAST. As I opened my eyes, my gaze fell on a tire - nay, a whole wheel - bouncing along in slow motion outside the driver's side window. As Aaron Neville's voice filled my head, I sat up and watch the tire speed ahead of us, cross the grassy median, continue onto the oncoming lanes, and eventually come to rest several hundred yards away in the ditch on the other side. As it bounced along, I shook my head, trying to loosen the cobwebs that cluttered my sleepy mind.

"Is that OUR tire???" I asked.

I couldn't make sense of it. There had been no blow-out. I hadn't felt it, and besides... the tire rolling down the highway was obviously intact.

"Yes," was all Darren said.

Then we were stopped. He jumped out of the car, crossed the highway and jogged to where the wheel had come to rest. By then, the song had ended, and there was an eerie silence in the car. The boys were oblivious, engrossed in their movie. Dani and I wondered aloud what had happened. We watched Darren roll the wheel back toward us, jogging the whole way in 96 degree heat.

"What on earth?" I asked.

"The whole [front driver's side] wheel came off," he answered. "The lug nuts are gone."

At that point, we all piled out of the car. The boys and Dani sat up on a hill away from the highway. I helped Darren unload the back of the Xterra so he could access the jack.

The grinding sound that woke me was the brake rotor scraping against the pavement. It was destroyed. Turns out, the fine young man who rotated our tires for free the day before - who also happens to be my husband - had forgotten to tighten all the lug nuts on that one tire. Oops. Near crisis averted, thank God. We were only a couple of miles from a small town, though, and decided to take our chances. Darren borrowed a lug nut from each of the other three wheels, and used them to secure the lost wheel back to the car. We limped into town and were back on the road in just a few hours.

For the rest of my life, when I hear the strains of "She gives me love, love, love, love, crazy love" in that beautiful tenor vibrato, I'll see the image of our tire bouncing down the highway.

day 06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere

2011-06-09T23:58:00.003-05:00

Several years ago, I made a CD for road trips called "Songs Darren likes". It's also a playlist on my iTunes, so every now and then, we find ourselves listening to it. One of the songs on the mix is "Amazing Grace" by The Maverick Choir, and it always transports me straight to Bozeman, Montana.

It was 1994. Dani was three years old, and Darren and I had an itch to move to the mountains. He was stuck in a sort of dead-end job, we were broke, and we had nothing to lose, so we dropped off Dani at my parents' house in Kansas, and hit the road on a job hunt. We swung through Colorado Springs, then up to Boulder (I loved Boulder, but Darren hated it, which for years was a bone of contention between us!), then further north to Laramie, Wyoming. Along the way, we camped. Outside of Laramie, we pitched our tent above a frozen lake; to this day, that's the coldest I have ever been in my life. I thought the dawn would NEVER come! Coming down from the mountain the next morning, we could see rain storms way out across the plains, and our vantage point on the mountain made it seem as though we were at eye-level with the clouds that created them. We watched the gray sheets of rain slowly descend toward earth, and wondered in awe at how the rain just evaporated in mid-air, never reaching the ground. It was a scene I will never forget as long as I live.

From Laramie, we drove up through the Tetons and into Yellowstone. We'd both been just a few years earlier - during the summer we fell in love - but on separate trips. It was wonderful to experience it together this time. Our final destination was Bozeman, Montana, where we spurged on a cheap hotel room downtown. We immediately fell in love with the town.

That night, we decided to go see a movie. The old theater was a throwback to vaudeville, with its heavy red draperies and velveteen seat cushions. The curtains parted to reveal a single movie screen, and we sat back and enjoyed "Maverick", the rompy comedy starring Mel Gibson and Jodie Foster. It became an instant favorite of ours, in part because the story was fun, but mostly because of the setting and the fact that we were on this big, crazy adventure together. At the end of the movie, we were riveted to our seats during the credits while "Amazing Grace" played on the big screen. We loved it! I had always wished those lyrics had been put to more up tempo music; I always felt like it should be such a JOYFUL song, and yet when we sang it in church, it always sounded so gloomy.

The Maverick version of Amazing Grace was everything I'd always wished the song could be. It was the same familiar tune, but ... rockin'!

The next morning, we attended church and Darren even spoke with a man about a job. Eventually, by way of Idaho, Utah and back through Colorado, we made it to Kansas and then home. The move never materialized beyond our romantic notions, but the song remains the "soundtrack" of a carefree, idealistic, wonderful trip through the Colorado Rockies, and specifically, a beautiful town called Bozeman, Montana.

day 05 - a song that reminds you of someone

2011-06-09T01:15:00.002-05:00

Every time I hear the song "Creep" by Radiohead, I immediately think of my friend Eric Tomme, aka SeaMonkey, who parodied it with his own version called "Sheep".

When Rick Springfield comes across my speakers, specifically "Jessie's Girl", I can't help but think of Cara Thames, who still credits it as her favorite 80s song to this day. Same thing with Don Henley's "Boys of Summer", Kristi Carman's favorite 80s song. I made a mix tape of 80s tunes for us a few years ago, and we burned those CDs up on all of our road trips. Heck, even just driving around town was reason enough to pop in that CD.

I'll never hear Sir Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back" without thinking of Tiffany Begley. I've had to call Ginger Lambert more than once just because Cheap Trick's live version of "I Want You To Want Me" was playing on the radio. Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's mash-up of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" and "What A Wonderful World" will always make me think fondly of Donna Bobbie, thanks to a mix tape made in her honor by Nancy Daley.

Some songs remind me of the people who introduced them to me: Ingrid Michaelson's "Just the Way I Am" came to me courtesy of Elaine Poplin. "Your Smiling Face" (James Taylor) still reminds me of Jeff Smith, who gave it to me my senior year of high school. Believe it or not, I had never heard Billy Joel's "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" until two years ago; Carrie Dressler was so aghast at the discovery that she immediately gifted it to me through iTunes. One of my dearest high school friends, Jeff Pryor, introduced me to Pink Floyd, and "Us and Them" especially makes me think of him. I love that so many songs make me think of so many people. I've been richly and abundantly blessed in this life with friendship, and music seems to have played a big role in those relationships. I'm grateful that it helps keep them alive!

Perhaps the gift of song I'm most grateful for is that of Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli's duet "The Prayer". I've mentioned it several times on this blog. Just after Aidan was born in early December 2000, our dear friend Sonny Tomme brought Dion's new Christmas CD to me as a gift. He was a huge fan, and he knew that I couldn't stand her. So when he handed me the CD, all wrapped up in paper, he watched with a huge grin on his face as I opened it. I tried to feign delight when I saw what it was, but he knew better. "Don't judge it until you try it," he counseled.

I judged it anyway, and cringed through the first several songs. Then "The Prayer" came on. Word to the Mommas, that was the most beautiful song I'd ever heard! I specifically remember, later that night, lying on my bed with tiny baby Aidan beside me, listening to the song on repeat until we both fell asleep. I never grew tired of it. To this day, it has that affect on me. Everytime I make someone a new baby CD, The Prayer goes on it. It played a huge part in my thyroid surgery a year and a half ago. Sometimes throughout the year, I crave it and pull it up on my iTunes. I would bet it's safe to say that I've never once listened to it that I didn't think of Sonny and feel grateful that he made me give that album a try. (For the record, the song made me a huge Bocelli fan, but I'm still annoyed by Celine Dion.)

It's been ten Christmases now, and Sonny's been gone for two years. Still, that album is the first one I pull out as soon as the Thanksgiving dishes are cleared. I skip straight to The Prayer, and then allow the rest of the CD to play.

day 04: a song that makes you sad

2011-06-08T00:48:00.004-05:00

It's funny. I don't tend to like sad songs and I don't generally buy them, yet when this challenge popped up, I immediately thought of several. The first one that came to mind was such an obvious choice that I dimissed it immediately. Next was Elton John's "Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me". Then I thought of Neil Young's "Heart of Gold", followed by REM's "Everybody Hurts". When I remembered David Bowie's epic "Space Oddity", I knew I'd found the one. But then I remembered the old Hank Williams tune "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry". I listened to each of them, and each one brought back specific memories and places and times in my life. For instance, anything by Neil Young reminds me of smoking Swisher Sweets cigarillos and walking all over the Turtle Creek golf course late at night during my junior year of high school. And for some reason, the Hank Williams song made me giggle. It's just so over-the-top sad - and I couldn't get my Grandma Mildred out of my head. I think she must have played it for me or sang it to me or something at some point in my life. Anyway, listening to it didn't make me feel sad, but rather silly. ha.

Though all these songs are sad in their own ways, none of them seemed quite right for the challenge. None of them make ME sad, I guess. So I decided to listen to the one I'd dismissed in the first place, and whaddaya know: as soon as the first three notes were plucked out on the guitar, I felt the wave of sadness come over me. Darren was sitting behind me and said, "You know you have to use this one."

It came out in 1992, when Dani was still a baby. I remember hearing the story on the news - Eric Clapton's 4-year old son had fallen out of his mother's 56th floor window in NYC - and feeling completely shaken by it. I genuinely mourned for him - I hurt and cried for a man I'd never meet and a little boy I'd never known. I think it resonated so deeply with me because I was always worried that I'd do something terribly careless and end up losing Dani, or worse. For instance, for a period of time when she was still an infant, I worried that I'd forget that she was in the grocery cart and drive off with my groceries but without my baby. Yeah, I wasn't altogether well back then.

Several months ago - or a couple of years, who knows - I was watching some celebrity show on TV - probably Biography, but again, who knows - about Eric Clapton. He said that he was performing the song in Japan in 2004 when he suddenly realized that he was only performing it, not feeling it. He realized that he'd lost the emotion behind the song. He didn't want it to become just another song in his repertoire that he didn't feel anything about, but he also didn't especially want those feelings back, so he decided to stop performing it altogether. I would imagine that in that moment, he felt a sense of relief and of loss. Letting go must be one of the hardest stages of grief. I cannot imagine.

I always loved his MTV Unplugged version best, so it's the one I'm linking here. I can't believe it's been almost 20 years since the tragedy, and since I first heard the song. Seems like yesterday.

day 03 - a song that makes you happy

2011-06-06T23:08:00.003-05:00

A year and a half ago, Dani was living in College Station as a freshman at Texas A&M. She'd actually been gone from home since the day after high school graduation, and by mid fall-semester, I was feeling woefully behind the times as far as music went. I'd grown accustomed to her keeping my iTunes account up-to-date with new music and introducing me to new bands while I stayed true to my classic rock radio station. When she came home for a visit in October, I said, "Give me something new to listen to. What's something I'd like?"

She turned me on to several new songs that night, but "Jump Rope" is the one that hooked me. I loved it immediatey and listened to it over and over until I could sing every word without messing up. Gee, some things never change. I remember doing that with my orange vinyl record player and my Grease soundtrack way back in the day! ("We go together like ramma lamma lamma ka dinga da dinga dong...")

Jump Rope is just happy. Its melody is bouncy, its rhythm is contagious, and its lyrics are a well-balanced mix of joyful optimism and no-frills honesty. Blue October isn't exactly known for bubble-gummy, bouncy pop. In fact, most of their music is pretty dark and heavy. The lead singer and songwriter struggles with mental illness, and his raw lyrics are usually born of those experiences. This particular song was written to his daughter, and I love that he isn't afraid to tell her that sometimes life hurts, but it'll get better if you just see it through.

This song makes me happy 'cause it SOUNDS happy, for one thing. I can't hear it and not sing along and tap my feet and dance in my seat. But it also makes me happy because it will always remind me of that Friday night in October, welcoming my college freshman home after too many weeks away, and the family fun of listening to a song ad nauseum with all my chicks in the nest together again.

day 02 - your least favorite song

2011-06-05T22:37:00.003-05:00

It's June, so don't ask me why when I saw today's challenge, the first song that popped into my head was a Christmas song. And yet as soon as my eyes passed over the words "least favorite", I started humming Wham's "Last Christmas" in my head. That song annoys the dog outta me. (Never was much of a Wham fan to begin with.)

But then almost immediately another Christmas song came to mind and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I had to get some stuff off my chest.

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There's a part of me that's afraid to write about this, because the song in question is a beloved one around here. I say that because every year as soon as the last of the good Halloween candy is gone, I start hearing it on the radio. People call in and ask for it. They love it. Sometimes they cry about it. When I hear it, my upper lip curls up like Elvis's, and I throw up in my mouth a little. It's the most contrived, emotionally manipulative, ridiculous excuse for a song I've ever heard. I especially hate it when the children's chorus comes in at the end. Gross.

Let me just tell you this: when my times comes, none of my kids better be out buying me some shoes "so their momma will look beautiful if she meets Jesus tonight." If Darren says "there's not much time", and my kid takes that as a cue to run out and find a way to buy me some pretty shoes, I'm pretty sure I've failed as a mother and I'll be begging God for a second chance.

Children-of-mine, hear this: if I'm on my deathbed, I want you at my side so I can tell you how much I prayed for you and how much God blessed me with you and how wonderful and perfectly made and awesome you are. I'll tell you that you make me incredibly proud, and I'll remind you that you are children of God, no matter what or where or how. I'll tell you that I am going to be fine, that I'll finally be able to wail like Aretha Franklin, and that for the first time EVER I'll have long fingernails and flowy, gorgeous hair. And... I'll be skinny. I'll go on about how this body I'm in is just an earth suit, and how I can't wait to shuck it and be on my merry way. I'll remind you that you have AMAZING LIVES TO LEAD, and destinies to fulfill, and people to touch, and memories to make, and dreams to catch. I'll tell you all how beautiful you are, and how it has nothing at all to do with your height, or your weight, or FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, THE SHOES YOU'RE WEARING.

If you're out at some random shoe store telling strangers about me on my death bed and how I've always given you everything you've ever needed but all I've ever wanted is this pretty pair of shoes and you're almost out of time because I'm DYING and you have to find a way to get me these shoes in case tonight's the big night, YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE. Don't you dare rob me of any precious moments with you, especially for something as trivial as shoes.

I'm not even gonna touch the "lesson" the man singing the song supposedly learned. What a stupid song.

Go on now and hate me. It's okay, I can take it.

day 01 - your favorite song

2011-06-05T01:29:00.004-05:00

Contrary to popular belief, my favorite song is not The Commodores' "Brick House". I do love to break it down when that song comes on, and I have no shame about it. But that comes later in this challenge. :)

Day 1's topic is ridiculously difficult. How can I possibly pick a favorite song? My favorite songs change like the wind. Depends on my mood, my location, the time of year, who I'm with. Of course I'll have to pick something by Pink Floyd. Or no - something that has a driving beat. Or wait - a song whose lyrics I wish I'd written myself. Or... a song that defines me.

Several years ago, I was smitten with Jason Castro on American Idol. First, I loved his rendition of Jeff Beckley's "Hallelujah". Then, I was charmed by his cover of Neil Diamond's "Forever in Blue Jeans". It was then that I rediscovered "Song Sung Blue", which I vaguely remembered from childhood, but hadn't given any thought to since.

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A great song doesn't have to top the charts. It doesn't necessarily feature brilliantly-composed music or drip with deeply philosophical prose. Sometimes, a great song is just a simple melody and familiar words that connect somewhere within you and make you feel.

For my whole adult life, I've battled an ugly, detestable monster called Depression. For most of my adult life, I've been good and taken the appropriate meds that keep it in check. I hate every single day that my brain's chemistry is such that I have to take those meds, because at the very core of my being, I Am Not An Unhappy, Glass-Half-Empty, Disengaged, Woe-Is-Me, Joyless Type Of Person. Sometimes, to prove it, I fall victim to the lie that tells me I would be okay without the meds. And then, several months later, when I've run out of energy and care, I give myself away by punching the cat in the face. No, I kid. But maybe I growl at the cat and wag my fist at her when she looks at me wrong. Yes. Yes, that is true. And then my gentle husband will ask, ever so cautiously, "Stace, are you still taking your meds?" And I'll lie and say yes, and immediately go and choke one down and be all pissy about it and then vow never to fall victim to The Lie again. After 20 years, you'd think I'd catch a clue.

I've always been a singer. Not for accolades - my talent is meager at best and I know it. I sing for joy. It's a funny thing, singing. In my BEST moods, I sing. (I must drive my coworkers batty because I'm one who will sing along with the radio all day long and not even realize it.) And in my BLUEST moods, I sing. (I remember one time years ago - possibly after three pregnancies and two infants in three years on zero sleep and having just finished off a half gallon of Blue Bell for breakfast - standing in the shower sobbing, and then forcing myself to sing sing sing until the sorrow left me.)

And THAT is why Song Sung Blue is my favorite. It's simple. It's familiar. It's truth.

Song sung blue. Everybody knows one.
Song sung blue, every garden grows one.
Me and you are subject to the blues now and then.
But when you take the blues and make a song, you sing them out again.

Song sung blue, weepin' like willow.
Song sung blue, sleepin' on my pillow.
Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice
And before you know it get to feelin' good.
You've simply got no choice!
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It's uncanny how Neil Diamond was able to write this song, perfect just for me, when I was a mere three years old, don't you think? ;)

21 days makes a habit

2011-06-05T01:17:00.002-05:00

... or so I'm told.

I want to write for ME again.
I write all day every day for work.
I write for other people every time I'm asked.

I haven't written for me in way too long.
I miss it. I even need it.

And so, for me, I'm committing to doing this fun little 30 Day Song Challenge that's been all over Facebook this year. I know it'll be fun - I love music and talking about it and explaining why certain songs mean so much to me. Since junior high, I've been the Queen of the Mix Tape, for the sole reason of wanting - nay, NEEDING - people to appreciate the music that touches me. So I know I'll stick with this challenge. But instead of doing it on FB, I'll do it here, where I've got more room to wax poetic about the songs I choose for this list.

The challenge lasts 30 days. By week four, I should be in the habit of writing for me again.
That's the plan. Hang on. Here we go!

obligation

2010-10-17T00:41:00.003-05:00

I've been struggling with this topic internally for some time. Actually, it began a year or so ago when I began researching for a grant I was writing for Fortress Youth Development Center, a faith-based nonprofit org whose main emphasis is providing literacy training and support for children who don't seem to be getting in their "at-risk" schools. It escalated recently when I began hearing about a new film called "Waiting for 'Superman'", a documentary exploring the state of education in America. I saw that film tonight, and it made me cry. My heart hurts for kids I know personally, kids I saw in the movie but will never meet, and kids who haven't even been born yet. I don't say that lightly. My heart is heavy. I physically ache.
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When Darren and I were finally ready to buy our first home after 13 years of marriage, we had two criteria: close enough proximity to Fortress that we could use our home in our ministry there, and be in a good school district.

I did exhaustive research of the area's high schools, public and private, and learned that Paschal's honors program left every other school in the county in its dust when it came to National Merit Scholars. (Click here to see the most recent NMS scholars from Tarrant County. The trend continues.) Paschal is seen as "the school of choice" for hundreds of academically-minded families in Fort Worth, and parents who live outside its boundaries camp out for up to 5 days in frigid weather each year to have a shot at transferring in. I felt confident that Paschal was the district we wanted. Next, I looked at elementary schools. Two of Fort Worth's best are in the Paschal pyramid, which narrowed our home search further. We ultimately chose to buy in a neighborhood served by Lily B Clayton Elementary. We've been wonderfully pleased with our choices. Paschal offered everything Dani ever wanted and needed in high school, and Sweet Lily B has been a serendipitous experience for our boys and for us - even better than we'd hoped it would be. We couldn't be happier.

But we're the lucky ones. We had a choice, and were in a position to make that choice a reality. I thank God for it on a regular basis - for our house and how it became our home, for our neighborhood and it being everything we didn't even realize we wanted, and for the schools which so wonderfully nurture and support our children.

And yet, my heart still aches. Why?

There are children in our city - in fact, children who live a mere three miles from my front door - who are born into abject poverty. They are born to drug-addicted parents, mothers who are in and out of jail, fathers who are never seen nor heard from, fathers who don't even know they're fathers. They are brought home from the county hospital to live in tiny apartments with 11 other children. They are raised by aunts and grandmothers and cousins who are living in poverty because their parents did, and their parents did before that. They are raised by loving, gracious, practical, hopeful, supportive parents who make sure they attend school and do their homework and ache with the knowledge that they can't catapult their children out of this cycle. Generational poverty is an ugly thing. It's heartwrenching. It hurts. It feels hopeless.

And because of our country's educational system, it IS hopeless.

Think about it. How many times have you seen a homeless person, or a poor person, or a bunch of troublemaking hoodlums, and thought to yourself, "If they'd just get a JOB....". No really, think about it and be honest. You have. *I* have.

Now think about this. In Fort Worth, and in every other city in America which houses an inner-city, urban poor neighborhood, big or small, there is an epidemic. It's called illiteracy. Surely not in America, you say. EVERYONE has the same opportunity in America. I tell you, they do not.

The kids whom I love and cherish at Fortress Youth Development Center certainly do not have the same educational opportunities that my own children have. Three miles and an interstate highway seperate them, yet they are world's apart. In neighborhoods like the one Fortress is situated in - across America, not just in Fort Worth -illiteracy is a very real problem. In this demographic, 50 percent of graduating 8th graders will drop out of school before they finish high school. Of the fifty percent who DO graduate high school, half of those will read on a 3rd grade level. HALF OF THOSE WHO GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL READ ON A THIRD GRADE LEVEL. And we think that "if they'd just work", they wouldn't be poor. Tell me - can an adult who can't read Harry Potter or find words in a dictionary or properly fill out an application ever land a job that might pull him out of generational poverty? "If they'd just get a job...". If only it were that simple.

That adult raises a new generation of children who grow up in the same abject poverty, attend the same schools that failed his generation, and the cycle continues. And continues. There is little PTA support in the inner city schools. There is no money to fund PTA programs. There are no PTA boosters to supply the schools' needs, much less extras. There are no fundraisers, because the parents of the students can't support them, and besides - in these neighborhoods, no one dares to go door-to-door to solicit sales. No one can go online and donate $40 to a walkathon. And so, there are no wonderful art programs, or chess clubs, or fancy new playground equipment, or new laptops for every teacher, or RIF days, or visiting authors, or Career Days.

But the children? They're alike. JaVunte has the same dreams as my own sons do. He wants the same things for Christmas. He likes the same music. He, too, makes fun of Justin Beiber. He loves the Cowboys and is excited for the Rangers. He loves recess, turns his nose up at cooked carrots, struggles with his multiplication tables, thinks about what he wants to be when he grows up, has big dreams for his life, believes he can do ANYthing, loves to play Connect Four, daydreams about buying out Toys R Us, watches the clock inch its way toward 3:00 every afternoon. In every way, he is the same as Aidan and Ian.

In every way except one. He was born into a circumstance that he didn't ask to be born into: that of generational poverty. It's not his fault, but it's his fate. And if something doesn't change in America with the way we teach our disadvantaged children, it will be the fate of HIS children, and of their children. And the cycle will continue. That, my friends, tears at my heart.
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There was a quote in the documentary tonight that grabbed me by the throat.
"What is our obligation to other people's children?"
My children have it made.
Your children have it made.
What is our obligation to OTHER people's children?

home invasion

2010-03-19T22:41:00.007-05:00

I had just rolled over for a few more minutes of snuggle time when both boys marched into our bedroom and announced,

"Mom, the cat has been BAD."

I imagined mounds of cat yack on the bottoms of my curtains, piles of cat poop at the base of the stairs, and other bad-cat shenanigans.

"She took a loaf of bread to the family room and it's all over the place. Aaaand, she tore into her cat food and ate the whole bag!"

Darren and I looked at each other and both said, "That's not the cat."

I was scared of what we'd find. Mice? A rat? A squirrel. Remember the bird? The possum story flashed across my mind, too. Darren headed downstairs to see if we'd left the back door open and something had walked right in, but a quick check assured us that wasn't the case. It was latched and locked.

As I worked my way (timidly) down the stairs, I immediately realized that strange things were afoot at the Circle K; the cat was not on my heels, nor was she underfoot herding me to her empty food bowl as she does every morning without fail. No, she was cowering in my bedroom, budging nary an inch. Weird.

The first place I looked was the family room. Sure enough, there was a bread wrapper with a large hole chewed in it, and bread crumbs strewn about everywhere. I ambled to the kitchen, where Darren was staring curiously at the wall high above the refrigerator; it was covered in muddy paw prints. A bifold door that we'd taken from the entry to our laundry area and stored between the fridge and the wall was on its side in the middle of the kitchen. I have no idea how we didn't hear it come crashing down in the night; our bedroom is situated directly above the kitchen.

The cat's food dish was empty, which isn't unusual, but her water bowl was full of dirt, which IS. Also noticeable was a bag of cat food, torn open and EMPTY. We couldn't figure out what did it, or how it got in.

Suddenly, Darren remembered something he'd read recently. "Raccoon!" he shouted. "Down the chimney!"

When I opened the door to the front room, the stench of animal urine greeted me. Sure enough, there were puddles on the hardwoods. Pictures, a plant, and books were knocked over on a table. Across the room, we discovered more paw prints, this time on boxes and rugs and other piles of garage sale stuff I've been collecting from closets and cabinets and storing in the corner of this room. There were also prints on the window sill.

These prints were much clearer than the muddy prints in the kitchen, and from my recent Crime Scene Investigation escapades at Fortress (I never blogged about that, did I?), I recognized immediately that the intruder was a raccoon, and that it had been tromping through fingerprint powder. Or not. Perhaps it made more sense that is was soot.

And sure enough, it was. Newly fallen sand, leaves, and pebbles dusted the logs in the fireplace.

I snapped a few pics, cleaned up the urine (which was ORANGE. Disgusting.), got ready for work, and left Darren to handle the rest. As I left the house, the cat was still cowering upstairs. What a waste of an animal that cat is. She acts like a guard dog when we have invited guests, and yet when a raccoon invades at night, she cries like a girl.

Or maybe she protected us. After all, there was no evidence that the raccoon ever made its way up the stairs. Whatever the case, Ashlie the Cat was a fraidy cat this morning.

I only hope that when the raccoon perched its paws on the window sill to look out over Magnolia Avenue, there were no neighbors jogging by, or walking their dogs, or heading to work in the predawn hours. "Those Kocurs are a bucn of riff-raff. First Naked Guy, now a pet raccoon."

Never a dull moment around here. I can't make this stuff up.

thyroid surgery and The Prayer

2009-12-03T13:15:00.010-06:00

About ten years ago, I noticed a growth on my thyroid. It was a benign goiter, and my endocrinologist left it up to me whether or not to remove it. Since it wasn't that noticeable and wasn't interfering with my breathing or swallowing, I opted to just leave it alone. Over the years, we monitored it closely, measured its slow growth, and biopsied it again. I always knew the day would come that I'd have to have it removed.

This past September, I was sick with flu-like symptoms, and when I recovered, I immediately noticed a golf-ball-sized blob on the side of my neck. Thinking it was probably swollen lymph nodes from my illness, I dismissed it. A week later, at the urging of Cara (who's a nurse), the insistence of Darren, and the counsel of two doctor friends, I went and had it checked out. Turns out, it was more of the goiter, which had exploded in size.

Suddenly, a bunch of little things began to make sense. I'd started snoring inexplicably, I'd become short of breath, I was constantly fatigued, I suffered "fuzzy brain", and my muscles ached. I chalked it all up to turning 40 and gaining weight; my internist explained that all these things could come down to one problem: I wasn't getting enough oxygen. The goiter had grown at such an alarming rate and in such a direction that it was shoving my trachea aside. It was also wedged against my carotid artery. The time had come. Surgery was unavoidable.

I was scared at first - I mean, who wants the neck sliced open, right? But after meeting my surgeon, Dr. John Crawford at Harris Methodist Fort Worth, I felt a lot better. His expertise in vascular surgeries gave me confidence, but it was his relaxed demeanor and jovial personality that put me at ease. I knew immediately that he was the right surgeon.

As the surgery drew nearer, I began to worry about being "under" for so long. Because of the intricacy of the procedure - having to work around the carotid and all the nerves in my neck - it was expected to take 4 to 6 hours. The night before surgery, I was listening to Andrea Bocelli's new Christmas album and wondered aloud, "I wonder if they'd let me choose the music for the operating room?" I was half joking, but the next morning as they prepped me for surgery, I heard myself ask, "Can I choose the music for the OR?"

One of the attendants said, "I don't see why not. What's your request?"
"Andrea Bocelli's new Christmas album," I answered, "But it's brand new. I bet you don't have it."

We have Pandora in this OR," said the attendant. "I'll see what I can find."

I'd already been given a sedative and was fading in and out.

Then I heard the music. It wasn't the Christmas album, but it was Andrea Bocelli singing something in Italian. I was happy.

"I couldn't find any Christmas," he said, "but hopefully this will do." Next thing I knew, "The Prayer" began to play.

As soon as it did, a tear escaped out the corner of my eye. I was too far gone to open my eyes, or to reach up and wipe it away. But it was there, and I felt it. This particular song has always been extremely special to Darren and me - it was given to us as a gift from a dear, dear friend (Sonny Tomme) upon Aidan's birth 9 years ago this month.

The anesthesiologist - or whoever had been talking to me this whole time - said, "You must like this one." I whispered, "It's my favorite."

"Well, that's too bad," he said, "because you won't remember any of this." And as I continued to drift off to neverland, it was to these words:

I pray you'll be our eyes
And watch us where we go
And help us to be wise
In times when we don't know
Let this be our prayer
As we go our way
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your grace
To a place where we'll be safe.

I knew - I knew! - that this was God speaking to me, telling me to let go of the fear and worry, and that I would be okay.

Later, Dr. Crawford said that what was supposed to be one of his most difficult surgeries turned out to be one of his easiest. He was finished in just over 2 hours. Aside from having a hard time intubating me because the trachea was shoved so far out of place, and then having to locate a specific nerve that was playing hide and seek (the one that controls my vocal chords), everything went perfectly.

Even knowing ahead of time how large the goiter was going to be, he was still shocked to see it up close and personal. He took a photo and gave it to Darren afterward. (Click here to see the photo. It's kinda graphic, so don't click if you can't handle blood and guts!) I can't believe this thing was in my neck. No wonder I felt like crap for the past several months!

The scar is bigger than he wanted it to be, but to get the whole goiter out without damaging any nerves or vessels, it had to be this big. I'll admit that when I first saw it, I shed a couple of tears. But it will fade, and be mostly unnoticeable in 2-3 months. There's a lot of swelling around my chin and neck right now, and along the right side of my face, but that will go down in a day or two.

He was able to leave the left lobe of my thyroid, which is healthy and normal-sized. It will take over and perform normally for the now-missing right lobe, and all should be well.

I'm glad it's over. I can't wait to have my old energy back, and to be able to wear necklaces again!

My hilarious friends Darcie and Amanda named the goiter for me last month, and he's been known as Gaston ever since. "No one's slick as Gaston, no one's quick as Gaston, no one's neck is incredibly thick as Gaston's!" And they were quick to point out, too, that Gaston lost in the end. Good riddance, Gaston! :)

eavesdropping

2009-11-17T20:05:00.002-06:00

A few minutes ago, I told the boys, ages almost-8 and almost-9, to go unload the dishwasher. Emphatic protesting immediately ensued, until I reminded them that they haven't had to do it since the weekend. Now they're in the kitchen and I'm eavesdropping.

Aidan: I don't get the purpose. We unload it tonight, and we'll just have to unload it again tomorrow night. We should just keep it loaded.

Ian: Something reeks!!!!!

Aidan: Seriously, Ian, what's the purpose?

Ian: WHAT REEKS SO BAD?????

Aidan: You know what I hate more than unloading? Touching dirty silverware. It's disgusting.

Ian: This reeking smell is disgusting. Hello? Are you listening to me?

Aidan: Huh?

Ian: I just farted about a million times. HELLO.

bwahahahahahaha! Lovin' life with boys!

Stacy, 2. Candy Bars, 0.

2009-09-01T22:58:00.002-05:00

Let's see. The last time I blogged about my weight loss journey was ... wait. Really? November 5th of last year? Seriously almost a year ago? Wow. No wonder I've allowed myself to gain so much of it back. And no wonder I have avoided blogging, too. It's all coming back to me now.

I say I've gained most of it back, but the truth is, I don't know. I haven't stepped on the scale. I'm scared to death to. The funny thing is, when I started this journey, when I was at the heaviest I'd ever been in my life, I wasn't scared of it. I came online and announced it to the whole world wide interwebs. But now, NOW. Now I'm scared. How much did I allow myself to give up? How much of that hard work did I just throw away?

I have all sorts of reasons and excuses, starting with an emotional upheaval that lasted for a few months last year, followed by me breaking my foot and being forced out of regular exercise for 14 weeks, compounded by starting a new job that involves me sitting on my butt all day at a desk next door to a woman who cooks the best soul food in the county and loves to share it.

Somewhere along the way, I started to slip. It was winter, though, and my sweatshirts and sweaters didn't seem that much tighter. My jeans were a little snug, but it was easy to forget how baggy they'd actually become. Snug was a feeling I'd been used to for years, and it felt normal. Then warm weather came and I had nothing to wear, 'cause I'd given away and thrown out all of the previous year's too-large clothing, knowing I'd never need it again.

I cut off a pair of jeans into capris and wore them daily, washing them constantly, 'cause they were my only pair. I would not allow myself to buy jeans in the next size up, so I just refused to buy any period. Then about a month ago, I was pulling those threadbare jeans on when one of the beltloops gave way and created a humongous hole in the backside. I wore them that day anyway, but it became clear almost immediately that this was a very temporary situation at best. I was forced into new jeans. Size 22. I'd gotten down to an 18, almost a 16. And now I was back in a 22, just two jeans sizes away from the old ones that still hang in my closet, awaiting the day when Kristi and I will both stand in the same pair that used to clothe just me. I was disgusted.

And so I did what all emotional overeaters do when they're stressed, or worried, or pissed as all hades: I ate. For the last month, I completely sabotaged myself. I ate bad intentionally. I ate when no one knew I was eating. And in the process, I made myself a miserable, angry blob of a person.

Meanwhile, one of my sweetest friends was hitching up her own bandwagon and goin' to town. She started with a simple gym membership, then ramped it up with a personal trainer. Consistently, she invites me along. A free month here, a two-month trial there. I always decline the offers, but I've been watching her progress, and she amazes me.

Then I see women in my neighborhood jogging along every morning, some pushing strollers while barely breaking a delicate glow, others huffing along, slimy hair slammed against their foreheads and donning the tell-tale face of "what the hell was I thinking?". But they're out there.
And I notice them.

On Saturday night, we ate badly at CiCi's. On Sunday night, we grilled hot dogs. Both nights, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, feeling nauseated, racked with heartburn, bloated and miserable. Sunday afternoon while at the grocery store, I was in the check-out lane when I spotted the sale: 3 for $1. We all know this means I could've purchased one for $.34, but why waste a good opportunity? I chose a Reese's, a York peppermint pattie, and an Almond Joy. I took them straight from the cashier's hand and plunked them in purse for later. I'd already eaten a Hershey's with Almonds that day.

Monday morning, after a fitful night, I woke up exhausted and cranky. As I showered, I made a snap decision: today it begins. I hadn't planned it, I hadn't worked myself up for it, I hadn't laid plans to make it easier, nothing. I just knew it was time. It clicked. Thank God. I'd been praying for the click!

And so, at the end of Monday, I went to bed early to avoid the night time snackies that plague me. I slept well, having made good, healthy choices all day long, with three candy bars still in my purse. I considered giving them to Darren and the boys, but decided that leaving them would force me to surrender once and for all.

Today, I forgot to take lunch to work. At noon, I had an online training class to attend and locked myself in my office. The class lasted two hours, and about 1/3 of the way through it, my stomach was rumbling and I was feeling nauseous. I knew those candy bars were within reach. I knew I had another hour plus to sit there. I knew I could end the hunger pangs. I knew no one would ever know. I eyed the candy.

Tonight, at the end of Tuesday, I'm going to bed having made good, healthy choices all day long, with three candy bars in my purse. I'm leaving them there. Today was too hard. I'm leaving them in my purse until I don't CARE that they're there anymore.

Stacy, 2. Candy bars, 0.

fuzzy

2009-08-25T20:07:00.002-05:00

"Are you feeling a little fuzzy today?" asked Terri, my coworker. Um, yah, just a little bit.

I don't know what was wrong with me today, but more than once, my brain failed to connect with my mouth, and I made a fool of myself. Several times, I walked out of my office only to stand in the big room wondering why I left my office. Then I'd sit down again at my desk only to immediately remember why I left in the first place.

First thing this morning, I needed to call Darren to ask him some computer questions. I picked up the phone and dialed up to Michael's office. Michael, I knew, was not in the office yet. And yet, I let it ring and ring, wondering why Darren wasn't answering across town in HIS office. Yeesh.

Darren was on the phone with me yesterday (my cell) when I took a call (on the work phone) with a vendor I've been courting, and commented that it was cool to hear me "in professional mode". He was impressed that his trash-talkin', oft-giggling, sometimes ghettofied wife could actually sound mature and educated on the phone. I rode high on that compliment for a couple of hours, sad as that sounds.

Well today, the gentleman I was so professional with came by the offic with a proof for me to peruse and sign off on. He was middle-aged (meaning, of course, that he was probably 20 years older than me. ahem), immaculately groomed, very professional. After we small-talked for a bit, I offered to provide him with one of our info packets, and made my way across the room to my office. Behind me, I could hear him mumbling something, and then he said, "A&M".

I turned on my heels and squawked, "GIG 'EM!" He looked completely taken aback, and was speechless. Then I realized that he was looking up at the quote that adorns the doorframe of my office, which reads, "The Lord is my rock, my fortress, my deliverer. Psalm 18:2." In an instant, I realized that the mumbling I'd heard was him reading that verse aloud, followed by a more audible "Amen and amen." NOT A&M.

Finally, he said, "You're an Aggie?"

"Oh!" I gasped. "You said amen." He smiled weakly. I know he was thinking, "What a FREAK."

"I thought you said A&M. I just moved my daughter to College Station last week for her freshman year at A&M, so I guess I have it on the brain."

I am a freak.

I'll spare you the other stories, but the day didn't improve.

Fuzzy.

1st day

2009-08-24T19:14:00.004-05:00

And so here we are again - the first day of school.

Remember back in the day when choosing your first-day-of-school-outfit was something to stew over and change your mind about thirty-three-and-a-half times? In this age of mandatory public school uniformity, it's a choice between khaki or navy pants, and white or blue shirts. Not a whole lot to get excited about. In fact, it's so unexciting that this morning, Aidan and Ian dug through their dirty laundry and chose the closest-to-clean shorts they could find to impress their teachers and influence their peeps. But wait - before you judge me - let me explain.

Last week, before I left for College Station with Dani (who is now safely nestled into her townhome and noshing on cupcakes and Dino nuggets like a real grown-up), I carefully laundered all the new school clothes and put them away. Imagine my surprise this morning when I opened the shorts drawer to find it empty of all khaki and navy shorts! WHA.....? A quick glance at the laundry heap clued me in: they'd been wearing their new school clothes every day that I was out of town. Did their father notice? Apparently not. Who sends their kids to the first day of school in dirty clothes? Please pass the Mother of the Year Award.

At least their underwear was clean.

catch up

2009-07-08T22:17:00.002-05:00

Dani graduated.
I turned 40.
The boys went to summer camp.
Darren finished staining the trim in the front room.
My foot continues to heal, but still hurts sometimes.
I gained 20 of my 70 pounds back.
Darren planted a garden and has harvested green beans, tomatoes and strawberries so far.
I manage to get up and go to work every day, a fact which still surprises me.
I've reunited with many old friends on Facebook, and am so grateful for it!
I stopped blogging, because I've felt like I had nothing to say. But that's not entirely accurate. I just haven't had the desire to type it all out. I think it's mostly due to the fact that I type all day at work.
I love my job.
I still scrapbook for others, but can't remember the last time I actually scrapbooked for ME.
I took up painting and have created two pieces - one for me, and one for a friend.
I've become addicted to Facebook.
The truth is, THAT explains my absense from this blog more accurately than anything else.

I'll try to do better!

DEELISHEEOSO!!

2009-05-06T21:29:00.002-05:00

Darren just baked me a cake.

No reason.

Just 'cause.
And it wasn't even bad for me.
AND... it was THE moistest, most delicious chocolate cake I've ever eaten.

Ever.

Recipe here.
Thanks, Ashley!

little moments....BIG LIFE!: word to the mommas

2009-04-15T22:25:00.000-05:00

A re-run for my friend Carol.
May she laugh 'til her sides hurt. :)

little moments....BIG LIFE!: word to the mommas

Winston and the boys

2009-04-13T23:32:00.003-05:00

Ian wants a dog.

Grammy has ruined him; his life is incomplete without dogs, to which I say, "You want dogs? Go to Grammy's." bwahaha (She and PapPap have... what.... 8, I think?)

Thankfully for Ian, Justin and LuAnn have a nice dog right next door. He poops and pees and tracks mud on THEIR property, and my boys get to love on him. It's the best of both worlds!

Every now and then, J&L go out of town and leave the dog care to my kids. This time, they hired the boys. Not DANI, but Aidan and Ian. Dani was completely out of the loop on this one, and the boys were OVER THE MOON!

They love to feed Winston and make him obey commands for treats. It amazes me that such a big, energetic dog will sit and wait just because little ol' Ian tells him to. He's such a good dog!

Today, they fed him bright and early before school, but there wasn't enough time to take him out to play. They were pretty bummed about it. After school, Aidan said, "I told everyone in my class that I have a job. I can't believe I get PAID to feed my favorite DOG!"

Grammy, don't tell Lucy or Luke or Leia or Linus or Lunkhead or......

posters

2009-04-06T23:52:00.005-05:00

In my job, I routinely make photo posters using the kids' pictures and place them around the building. The kids love seeing their images on a real "poster". Here are a few I've created:

Today, I decided it was time for a new one.

I shot a self-portrait in the girls' bathroom at Fortress, where someone has started picking away the faux tile in one of the stalls (which was in bad shape to begin with), creating a big mess and an uglier wall over the last couple of months.

None of the students will confess to doing it, so I'm surprising the cuprit tomorrow with this new "poster". Heh.

I crack myself UP! I know the girls will snicker when they see it, and HOPEFULLY, the guilty party will stop making the sad wall even worse!

Naked Guy and The Intern

2009-04-05T15:56:00.006-05:00

*not his real name

I wrote this story early one morning almost 18 months ago, but I never blogged it because I didn't want to be the cause of any negative ramifications for Dylan*, who lived with us while working as an intern at Fortress Youth Development Center. I've been reminded of the story a couple of times in the last few days, and I'm thinkin' enough time has passed now to share the fun....

When I went to bed at 2 a.m., Dylan wasn't home. Darren and Aidan were out of town on a Cub Scout camp-out. Dani was asleep upstairs. Ian was sleeping on the couch. He had BEGGED to sleep on the couch, and I had let him fall asleep there. At the last minute, as I headed upstairs, I decided to go ahead and carry him to his bed. This is noteworthy, because 1) I knew he'd be mad when he woke up in his own bed after I told him he could sleep downstairs, and 2) he's heavy and I'm lazy.

At 3:30, Dani was awakened by two guys "yelling at people". I sleep like a rock, and didn't hear anything. At 4:00, she came and woke me up, saying, "Mom, I think something's wrong with Dylan. He's being really loud and knocking stuff around in his room. And I heard someone banging on the piano [downstairs]." She had knocked on Dylan's door, and when he told her to come in, she opened the door to see him standing there naked.

"I told him to be quiet 'cause I have to take the PSAT in a few hours," she explained to me. "Then he started shouting to 'other people' that they need to be quiet, then he whispered it, then he started saying 'I am God, I am God'."

"Stay here [in my room]," I told her. I went downstairs to see if anyone else was in the house and immediately noticed that our front door was standing wide open. I turned around to take a quick inventory of our TV, computer, etc. The neighbor's backyard light shines right through our family room window, which created a perfect silhouette of a naked guy lying on my couch. I was furious that Dylan was sleeping naked in my family room! I flipped on the light and immediately recognized that it wasn't Dylan.

"Who are you?" I demanded.
He jumped up, naked, and asked, "Who are you?"
"I live here. You're in my house. WHO ARE YOU?"
He kept repeating, "Who are yooooooooou?"

I realized that he must've come home with Dylan, and my first thought was that he was from the homeless shelter. (Dylan spends a lot of time volunteering there). Turns out, he was an old high school friend of Dylan's who was in town for the weekend.

"Where's Dylan?!" I asked.
He replied, "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God."

I walked to the base of the stairs and yelled for Dylan to come down. He didn't, so I bounded up the stairs and threw open the door to his room. He jumped up, startled, and said, "We're on LSD. Oh no. Oh God."

"I'm about one second away from calling the cops if you don't get your naked friend out of my house. Get your clothes on and get downstairs."

Meanwhile, I went downstairs again, where the naked guy was still standing in the family room. I said, "Either get some clothes on, or get upstairs. I don't need to see your naked butt in my family room." He kept saying that he was dead, and that dead people don't wear clothes.

I called Michael and asked him to come over. (Remember, Darren was out of town.) While I was on the phone with Michael, Naked Guy kept walking up to me, asking what was happening. I kept telling him to cover up. He followed me all around asking me if God was playing a joke on him. He'd tap me on the shoulder, and when I'd turn around, he would be in my face - almost nose to nose with me - asking, "Is this real? Am I dead?" Eventually, I walked him out the front door and locked it. He didn't protest or try to walk back in or anything. He just let me lead him right out the door. Naked Guy seemed really scared of me, which I thought was funny. Then again, I was LIVID, and I guess he could tell. I was extremely angry that Dylan had brought a guy to my home in this condition, and I was so very angry at Dylan for using drugs in my house. Also, I had just sloshed through a huge puddle of pee in my kitchen, which REALLY pissed me off.

I called Dylan's parents, who live about an hour away, and told them that Dylan was tripping on acid, and that I was evicting him, and that they needed to come get him. They said they'd be on the road in less than 15 minutes.

While I was on the phone with his parents, Dylan started smashing stuff upstairs (throwing pictures frames from the walls of the stairwell - breaking glass and knocking off a big chunk of plaster from the wall high above the window), which scared Dani to death. Thinking that Dylan was either coming after her for ratting him out, or that he was wigging out on me, she took a phone into Ian's room, locked the door, and called 911. Then she called my cell phone and said, "Mom! I just called 911. I'm sorry if I shouldn't have done that." I was proud of her, actually.

Meanwhile, Naked Guy started breaking into houses on my street. At one house, he was standing in the dining room muttering, "I'm in Hell" when the homeowner walked in and threatened to release his rottweilers if he didn't turn around and go right back out the window he'd just climbed through. At another house, the homeowner met him with a shotgun and said, "Get off my property before I blow your head off." Within minutes, there were cop cars everywhere. They arrested Naked Guy across the street from my house. I have to admit, it was pretty funny seeing this naked kid walking down the street with his hands cuffed behind his back and his jinglejangle flopping in the breeze.

I asked them to go upstairs and get Dylan as well. They said they couldn't, because he lived here and was allowed to be here. I said, "Even though he's tearing my house apart?" They said they couldn't do anything. I questioned, "Even if he has illegal drugs in my house?" Nope. "You can't search his room?" I pressed, "This is my house, and I'm giving you permission to search his room." They said that he had the right to a reasonable expectation of privacy, and they wouldn't search his room. I was so frustrated. Dani and I both argued with them pretty hard. Michael went down the street and talked to them too, and they gave him the same answers. "If he were out here, you wouldn't arrest him?" They said they could get him for public intoxication, so I offered to drag him out in the street for them. "Ma'am, we don't want you to do that. If he's doing acid, he could be a threat to the citizens." Uh, yah. That was kind of my point, seeing as how he was UPSTAIRS with my CHILDREN. Stupid laws that protect the guilty really piss me off.

Michael went upstairs and tried to make Dylan put clothes on and come outside. He had to send him back up twice because he came down naked. He finally came outside wearing boxers and a t-shirt and joined Dani and me on the porch, where we were watching Naked Guy be checked out by EMTs. (He'd cut himself up climbing through a broken window.) At this point, there were 4 police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck sitting in front of my house, and neighbors were starting to appear on their porches in the pre-dawn light.

Dylan sat down and talked to us, and had moments of what seemed like clarity, where he'd say, "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I did this. I love you guys so much. You mean more to me than anyone. Why did I do this?" Then he'd go right back to talking nonsense. I'm telling you now that if there was EVER anything that would benefit Dani as far as making her determined NOT to try drugs, it was seeing Dylan in this tripped-out state. It was funny and heartbreaking at the same time.

"Oh my God, did we kill somebody?" he asked in a panic.
"I don't KNOW, Dylan," I exclaimed. "Did you?"
He couldn't figure out why there would be so many cops unless they'd killed someone. He asked Dani to go inside because he didn't want her to see him like that, but she refused. "You don't get to ask me to go inside," she said. "You woke me up at 3:30 in the morning. I have to take the PSAT in a few hours. You don't GET to ask me to leave." He said, "Okay." A couple of times, he said he was cold and wanted to go inside, and I'd say, "Sit down. You're not going back in my house." And he'd say, "Seriously? Okay." And he'd sit down. It was so weird how he could be violent at one moment, and totally compliant the next.

Dylan continued to hallucinate, and talked about how beautiful everything was. He'd say, "This is so beautiful. No. no. This is bad. Very bad. Beautiful. It's beautiful. No. It's bad. Bad." But every once in a while, he recognized reality. Eventually, he said he didn't want his friend to "face it alone", and he walked down to the police car, where they arrested him for "public intoxication other than alcohol". His dad got here before the cops left, and was able to see Dylan for a minute. He said he didn't blame us a bit for calling the police, and in fact, that if Dylan had come into THEIR home in this state and started breaking things, they'd have called the police too. He was really very nice about it.

Ian slept through the WHOLE THING. And let me tell you... there was a lot of noise in my house that night. I thank God that he was safely in his bedroom during all of it, and not downstairs in the middle of the commotion. (Especially since Naked Guy ended up on my couch!) Dani and I cleaned up all the glass (oh my GOSH, it carpeted every step of my stairs - tiny shards all in the carpet and everywhere) and mopped up the kitchen before she left for her PSAT. In a weird, surreal way, it turned out to be a neat bonding experience for us, so I'm actually thankful for THAT. Considering the circumstances, she did pretty well, but was 3 points shy of being "commended", which disqualified her for some scholarship opportunities. I think she's still pretty mad about that!

Dylan walked home later that day after being released from jail, wearing his t-shirt, boxers, and a pair of paper pants the jail had given him. He was very apologetic and promised it would never happen again.

"It shouldn't have happened at all," I said.
"I know. I'm sorry. I would never put your family in danger."
"But you DID put us in danger," I replied. "You put me in danger. You put my kids in danger. You put my NEIGHBORS in danger."
"You're really evicting me?" he asked.
"I really am. I have to. I can't risk this happening again." It was the hardest thing I've ever had to make myself do.

The following Monday, while at the police station giving my report, a neighbor I'd never met asked me if I was okay. I said, "Oh, I'm fine. He only broke picture frames at my house; I'm so sorry about what happened to yours!" (He'd had a huge picture window destroyed when Naked Guy heaved a planter full of flowers through it.)

"I'm not talking about your house," he continued. "I'm talking about YOU. The police told me that it was a domestic dispute." I'm sure my eyes must've bugged out of my head! "What?" I exclaimed. "It wasn't! My husband wasn't even in town!"

Turns out, Dani's phone call was registered as a domestic dispute call. It went something like this: "The guy who lives with us is breaking things and yelling, and my Mom is downstairs with another guy who I don't know!" Yep. Sounds like domestic problems to me. I'm horrified when I think about what the cops who showed up first must've thought: "Wow. This middle-aged chick has a teenage daughter, a live-in 22-year-old boyfriend, and another 22-year old on the side?? What a classy lady!" roflol. I straightened it all out, though, and our record is now clean again.

And now, 18 months later, I think we're ready to host an intern again. It's been pretty boring around here lately. ;)

Foolery

2009-04-01T22:08:00.003-05:00

It's the immature 10-year old boy in me, I guess - the same one who thinks farts are funny and who can't drive safely down Hwys 183 or 121 because the planes flying overhead are too mesmerizing - but I love a good April Fool.

This morning, I called Mecca. When her voice mail picked up, I made a snap decision to tell her we were moving to Ireland where Darren had landed his dream job. Apparently, my prank was believable, because Mecca sat down at her kitchen table with her hand on her forehead and cried while I described how we'd put our house on the market, that Darren would leave in the next few weeks and how the boys and I would wait to join him later after Dani was settled in at college. When I got to "April Fool's!", she cried even harder - from relief, she claims. I had no intention of making her cry, but HOW SWEET IS THAT? I feel really truly loved. (And I'm sorry for the cry, Mec. Sorta. ha!)

Then this afternoon, having not learned my lesson from Mecca, I grew evil horns and sent the following to my dearly beloved boss, Michael, and copied my coworker and good pal Terri:

I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you this all week.
I guess I’ll just jump right in and say what needs to be said.

I’m giving my resignation. When I accepted this job, I just had no idea that I’d have to endure so much hardship. I’ve had rats watch me work from behind, mice climb up my leg and run across my feet, days when the building smells like sour mop, or
worse, like rancid green beans….

When I leave in the afternoons, I always make a list of items I intend to tackle first thing the next morning. Most days, like today, I still haven’t worked through the list when it’s time to leave again. People are always wanting something from me: either QuaQua needs another hug or some volunteer wants a tour of the building or a random group wants to know what they can do for 2 hours next Thursday. The phone rings all the ding dang time with parents whom I can’t understand wanting to know if their kid is here or not. Sometimes Nookie shows up for an unscheduled 2-hour counseling session. At least at home, I have caller ID and a peekie-hole and can
avoid these things if I’m not in the mood. Here, I’m a sitting duck.

Then there’s the issue of the internet going bonkers at least once a day and not allowing me to send/receive email or open attachments or crashing altogether. It makes me crazy, and when you add all these things up, I just don’t make enough to justify it all.

I love Fortress, but the time has come for me to take a step back and say April Fools. Unless you fire my sorry butt for this lame joke, I’ll be back again tomorrow, same bat time, same bat channel. The truth is, you couldn’t fire me if you wanted to. I love it here and I love every aspect of my job. (Except the phone. I truly do detest answering the phone.) But I love the rest of it. Even Ms. D, and even Ratatouille. Thanks again for blessing me with the opportunity to be here!

~Stacy

Terri's reply: "i almost threw up before I got to the bottom. good one"

Michael's reply, in part: Not funny! :)

Before I got to the end my mind was going a thousand different directions, even in just the 20 seconds it took me, wondering how we could replace you because no one would have your passion, skill set and ability to juggle all the crap.

I’m glad it was an April fools; still not funny, my heart is still beating way too fast.

I hope at least one of them is laughing tomorrow.
;)
Maybe by next April 1, I'll be a grown-up. :D

you found me

2009-03-11T23:07:00.001-05:00

I'd heard this song before, but until Monday, I'd never paid much attention to the lyrics. Somehow, the first words caught my attention that day, and I found myself listening, intrigued, hanging on every word as I drove Dani to work.

I found God On the corner of First and Amistad
Where the west Was all but won
All alone Smoking his last cigarette
I said, Where you been? He said, Ask anything.

In my mind, I pictured the Marlboro man, silhouetted as he leaned with his back against a light pole, cigarette dangling between two fingers, his chin low, almost touching his chest. He looked out the top of his eyes, his focus grazing the brim of his traveled hat, as a young man made known his questions.

Where were you When everything was falling apart?
All my days Were spent by the telephone
That never rang And all I needed was a call
It never came To the corner of First and Amistad.

I've been there... waiting for the rescue, for the answer, and wondering why it never came.

[Chorus]
Lost and insecure You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait? Where were you, where were you?
Just a little late You found me, You found me

At this point, I started anticipating the lesson, the answer to the questions, the resolution.

In the end Everyone ends up alone
Losing her The only one who’s ever known
Who I am Who I’m not, and who I want to be
No way to know How long she will be next to me
[Chorus]
Early morning The city breaks
I’ve been calling For years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
You never sent me no letters
You got some kind of nerve Taking all I want

I love this verse, especially the last 10 words.I love that God allows us to rant and rave and demand answers and to wag our finger in the air and tell him He's got some kind of nerve. I love that He's big enough to take it, and real enough to understand my need for it, and gracious enough to love me through it. As the song continued, just like in real life, I grew impatient for the reasoning, the answer, the resolution. I was sure it was coming in the next verse.

Lost and insecure You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor Where were you, where were you?
Lost and insecure You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait? Where were you, where were you?
Just a little late You found me, You found me
Why’d you have to wait To find me, to find me?

It didn't come; the song ended with the same questions. For a half a second, I was annoyed that the lyricist didn't wrap the story up with a neat little bow and call it a day. But as soon as that fleeting emotion died, I celebrated that it was left open-ended. It makes the song so much more meaningful.

And isn't that the way it is in life anyway? Do we ever really know WHY God does what He does? Is it ever our RIGHT to know? Job never knew. He suffered for reasons that he NEVER had a clue about. I'm sure he asked the same questions.

In the end, "You found me."That's all that really matters, isn't it?That IS the resolution. The reasoning is irrelevant.

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

happenings

2009-03-10T00:03:00.003-05:00

In the past month...

Darren and Aidan ran the Cowtown 5K; Aidan beat Darren's time by about 40 seconds, clocking in a time of 27:58 and placing 8th out of 281 other 7 and 8 year olds. He was most proud of beating Mr. Dague's (PE teacher) time! I love to see Aidan after a good run. He glows, and I'm not talking about the afterglow of a hard workout. He glows from the INSIDE. Running is such a natural thing for him, and he loves how it makes him feel. I think that's so cool.

Dani competed at UIL with both choir and history. She earned a "1" with her ensemble - a SSA piece that she and two friends performed, and a "2" on her solo. The ensemble gets to compete at State in late May. In history, she placed 5th individually, the only one on her team to medal. Her team rank was 2nd, though. This was a preliminary competition - the main one is March 28, so there's still time for improvement.

The bummer about that date is that it means she'll miss her "Meet and Greet" with Drew University. Drew (in Madison, NJ) is her #1 choice for college, and they're hosting a regional meet and greet in Dallas for accepted students in this area. It's from 2-4 on the 28th - the exact time of her UIL event. Bah!

She's also been accepted to a handful of other schools, including Texas A&M. She's holding out hope for UT, but hasn't gotten her acceptance letter yet. Texas has a law that allows automatic admission to students with a class rank in the top 10%. That's all well and good, you'd think, but the rub is that even though Dani has a GPA of 4.5, she's still only in the top 12% of her highly competitive honors program. Some of the individual schools at UT (business and architecture, for instance) fill up long before they reach the 10%ers. The College or Architecture, for instance, is so competitive that they sometimes only admit the top 4% of high school graduates before the reach capacity. This makes getting into UT very difficult even for top-ranked students. Still, Dani's holding onto hope that she'll be admitted. In the meantime, she has a trip to College Station scheduled with our friend Jake, Fort Worth's most enthusiastic Aggie. ;) I'm a little disappointed that I'm not taking her myself, but she'll have a lot more fun with Jake. For one, he's a lot cuter than I am, and a lot more cool. I'm just a Mom. Nevermind that being an Aggie was my DREAM for 4 years of high school. No, nevermind that. Dani would rather go with Jake (and Nikki, who promises me that by the time she and Jake are through with her, Dani will be bleeding maroon).

Ian is beyond excited right now about an upcoming play date with his friend Curran. He's excited about Karate, too - or Kung Fu or Tae Kwon Do or whichever one Darren decides on. Who knew that martial arts was so stinkin' expensive?? I don't know where we'll dig up the scratch to pay for it, but Ian's heart is set on it, and unfortunately, we agreed to it before we did the research. Ian's not much for team sports - he's too shy and worried about not excelling. He can't WAIT to try martial arts, though, and I think the discipline and self-confidence it'll provide will be wonderful for him.

You know how you know you're a real adult? No, not when you pay taxes for the first time. Not when you clean up someone else's barf while holding back your own. Not even when you buy your first house. No, you know you're an adult when you're able to spend your tax refund on something you WANT rather than a looming, unwanted but necessary bill, and what you WANT is something as mundane as a new dishwasher to replace your broken and unfixable one, and a new BED! YAY for us!

We'd been sleeping on The Cheapest Mattress We Could Find Fourteen Years Ago for, well, fourteen years. For a long time, I've been waking up feeling exhausted and sore - and cranky. (Can't really blame that on the bed, though. I've woken up cranky all my life. It takes me two hours to become human.) This morning, after my 3rd night on the new bed, I woke up an hour earlier than usual for no reason other than I WOKE UP ON MY OWN FEELING RESTED. And get this - I was in a good mood. SILLY mood, even. Singing in the shower, even. Weird. The earth must be off its axis. Could it be that this new bed is turning me into a morning person after all these years of hard core night-persondom? I'm betting it was a fluke. Tomorrow morning, if I don't wake up with a growl and a snarl and a hmpftoyourmomma, we'll know that the end time is near.

Funny story about the mattress shop. We walked into Sleep Experts because it was "there". We really didn't think we'd be buying that night; we were just gonna test drive some new models. We agreed rather quickly on a bed and decided to just go ahead and make the purchase, which is so unlike us. I'm the one who always wants to hunt for a better deal, and Darren doesn't make snap decisions about ANYthing, EVER. So this was strange for us. We went with a mid-range model - not too pricey, but not cheap, either. Just right, Goldilocks would say. (Simmons Beauty Rest something or other, though that doesn't tell you much, as there are a million Simmons Beauty Rests in all price ranges.)

As Darren signed all the papers and turned down all the extra warranty crap, I decided to test drive one more mattress, simply because of its placement right next to the register. It was a gorgeous bed, too. Within 45 seconds, maybe less, I was OUT. Like a LIGHT. Darren and the salesman woke me up when the deal was sealed, and after checking that I hadn't left a pool of drool on the pristine foam, I said, "I changed my mind. I want this one." The salesman laughed and said, "Yah. This one will run you $3600. And that's just the mattress, not the box." No wonder I fell fast alseep. I could buy a CAR for $3600!

Man. This post proves what a barrel of laughs we are around here. History UILs, 5k runs, martial arts and new mattresses. This is the stuff we get excited about. Try not to be too jealous now, ya hear? ;)

age

2009-02-17T23:28:00.005-06:00

Already in 2009, I've detected new wrinkles around my eyes, and two gray hairs on top of my head.

And to that I say, "BRING IT, 40s!"

In the meantime, Aidan is already planning for his future, too.
While his classmates wrote of growing old and being in wheelchairs,
Aidan was imagining his rocking out at his 100th Birthday Bash.

(click to enlarge)

"...and a wife."
You can understand how I stay young. My kids crack me up, and a good laugh is good for the soul. :)

MIA

2009-02-16T21:34:00.005-06:00

Darren has been harrassing me about this blog. So has Dani, actually. And an assortment of other people. *sigh*. I've been busy, people! And the truth is, I got tired of blogging. Don't know why. Maybe it's because I do a lot of writing at work.

The last 6 weeks in a nutshell:

Dani has been furiously writing essays and applying for scholarships.

She's applied to 5 universities and heard back from one so far. (Accepted, with a scholarship offer of $17,000 per year.) She commited to being a camp counselor this summer at a non-profit camp for inner city kids. I'm proud of that decision, and I know it'll make for an awesome summer, but it also means that she's effectively leaving home 10 weeks earlier than I'd anticipated, and I'm maybe a little bit sad about that. ;)

Aidan's been training with Darren for this month's Cowtown Marathon - the 5k, though, not the actual marathon. He also had a lead role in his school play. Funny this was, we didn't even have a CLUE that he had a rather large part. We knew he had a speaking role, but he flat refused to ever practice his lines at home, saying that he wasn't worried. Dani filmed the play and put it up on YouTube if you want to see it. Aidan plays the lion.

Ian is obsessed with war, specifically World War II. He knows who were allies and who were enemies. He knows how it started. He knows who Hitler was and what he did. He can define the word Nazi. He knows what weapons they used, and what kinds of planes they flew. He can tell you about the first A-bomb. Now he's boning up on the Civil War. He's in first grade. He blows my mind.

Darren's been building a terraced garden in our backyard - for vegetables. It's right next to the herb garden he started a few years ago, but on the other side of the fence. He's also been dancing his buns off every night and is putting me to shame on Dance Dance Revolution. Today, Aidan's teacher stopped Darren at school and said, "What's this I hear about dancing? Something about Karma Chameleon?" Darren laughed and said, "Oh yah. Aidan's really good at that one." Mrs. Bradshaw said, "I hear that YOU'Re the one who's really good." Who knew that Darren could dance? lol!

And me, I've been working. My 30-hour/week job hasn't been fewer than 30 hours since I started! But I love it SO much and can't imagine not being there every day. It's one of those jobs that people wish they had - where you're good at what you do and what you do is making a difference in the world. In the big picture, we're just a blip on the screen. But life by life, kid by kid, family by family, dream by dream, Fortress Youth Development Center IS making a big difference, and I'm both blessed and proud to be a small part of it.

Ashlie the cat is still harrassing visitors and pooping in places she ought not to poop. Tonight, I detected the most noxious odor ever, and went looking for The Cat (which is what I call her when she's in big trouble, mister). I just knew she had taken a dump on the floor somewhere, but I found her in the litter box. Scratching at the box liner. Then she pranced out of there with her nose in the air. I grabbed the scoop and buried her treasure FOR her. I swear, if my life were a cartoon, there'd have been green fumes wafting from it and flies swarming overhead. Stupid cat.

Have you forgotten what we look like?

Here's a photo to jog your memory.

I'll be back tomorrow.

I have to. I PROMISED. :)

The Dawn Treader, part 2

2009-01-02T01:32:00.003-06:00

Ian conquered his boredom by picking a book from the shelf in my bedroom and reading it. He read all of chapter one and into chapter two that first night, and this morning, the first thing he did was pick it up again. Tonight, he's in chapter 3.

He's reading "The Dawn Treader", which is his favorite book in the Narnia series. A few years ago, Darren read the books to the boys each night at bedtime. I can't believe Ian's big enough to read them on his own now!

Watching him read, and hearing him say "Dawn Treader" made me heart melt, 'cause it reminded me of this little nugget from 3.5 years ago. I'm so glad I blog!

bored

2008-12-30T23:26:00.002-06:00

Poor Ian.

He's bored.

All he has is a Wii, a DS, 3 light sabers, a slew of army men, enough Legos to build a new space station, a shiny new Rubik's cube, and a cat.

Life sucks for poor, bored Ian.

Christmas Morning 2008

2008-12-26T00:47:00.011-06:00

Eight on the nose,
Our boys arose
And just as they were taught,
Came to our bed
And thusly said,
"Let's go see what we got!"

Their plea denied,
Their dad replied,
"Not yet, you understand?"
He scurried past,
Then back so fast
With gift for me in hand.

Inside, an Elph
From Canon's shelf,
With charged up battery,
And memory
-4 gig for me!-
For pictures 'round the tree.

Then down the stairs
We went in pairs,
With Dani close behind us
And took our seats
Beside our treats
Where Santa knew to find us.

New GeoTrax
And Lego packs.
Soft Bath and Body lambies.
Puzzles to do,
Fatigues for two,
And Star Wars Lego jammies.

The paper flew,
The laughter grew,
The boys were good and jolly.
But 'cross the room
Impending doom:
Teenager melancholy.

The Office game,
A robe (so lame),
John Lennon book (she flaunted),
iTunes. And yet
forgiven debt
Is all she really wanted.

A GPS
For Darren - YES!
For geocaching jaunts.
A cool fifty
To Academy
To spend howe'er he wants.

And then for me,
New game for Wii:
The Dance Dance Revolution!
To recommit:
Size 12s I'll fit!
This may be the solution.

The day is spent
How fast it went!
The family's soundly sleeping.
Except for me,
Writing faithfully
These memories for keeping.

the numbers on Christmas Eve

2008-12-24T21:24:00.009-06:00

9 cousins

9 aunts, uncles and grandparents

8 quarts of taco soup

3 pies

12 birthday cupcakes

6 2-liter bottles of soda

14 Christmas carols

4 hours of laughter and delight

3 distinct patterns of wrapping paper, none with names attached (Only Mom knows!)

5 stockings stuffed

1 happy home ablaze with lights

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Christmas Kisses

2008-12-24T00:02:00.005-06:00

The other day riding along in the car, Darren and I chatted with the boys about how cool it is when we see us in them. For instance, Aidan is just like me when it comes to math, and Ian is just like Darren. You see, Aidan and I are happy with a close guesstimation, but Darren and Ian see a problem through to its completion - usually faster than Aidan and I can guesstimate!

Aidan is also like me in that he's not ashamed to do whatever it takes to get a laugh. One of the girls in his class appreciates it, too. "Izy talks about Aidan a lot, so when I got to help with field day I really wanted to meet him," wrote Izy's mom in an email. "She thinks he's funny and Izy's all about funny!" That boy IS funny. He cracks me up on a daily basis!

Ian is more like Darren - he's shy until he knows you well. He's content to sit back and watch the action rather than be a part of it. He notices things and has very good intuition about people and possibilities. He's a thinker, not a reactor.

Aidan loves to entertain. When we're having company and the boys are being made to clean their room, Aidan is more interested in "decorating" it than cleaning it up. If girls are coming, he tries to decorate it "girly", setting up the stuffed animals in a welcoming way on the beds. If boys are coming, he mans it up with lego creations and train tracks. I'm that way, too. When company's coming, I'm more likely to decide now is the perfect time to update all the photos in the picture frames than to make sure there are fresh towels in the bathroom.

But there's one very big detail about our personalities that Ian and I share, and that Aidan shares with Darren. Ian and I are night owls, and Darren and Aidan are not. Two nights ago, at 11:00, Ian and I pulled all the ingredients out of the pantry and spent the next hour making Christmas Kisses. Today, the boys delivered them to some of our favorite friends in the neighborhood. We're making more tomorrow to share with our company tomorrow night. Hopefully Darren and Ian will clean while Aidan and I put finishing touches on the packages! :)

(Yes, Dani's still part of the family, but we haven't seen her in a while. Word on the street is that she's hobnobbing about with theater people and making movies about the French Revolution. I'll let you know more when I know more.)

leading up to Christmas

2008-12-22T00:18:00.014-06:00

On Tuesday, I worked at the office from 8:30 am until 9:30 pm, with barely even a break for lunch. Got a LOT done, which felt good.

On Wednesday, I caught up on sleep and stayed in bed until a naughty hour, then made three 6'x3' banners for the Madrigal Feast Dani's choir was putting on.

On Thursday, I started the day with physical therapy (my therapist prescribed another 3 sessions and a re-evaluation, which she'll do tomorrow), then I went in to the office for 4 hours, then crammed in some errands before arriving at the performance hall, where Darren and I slaved away in the kitchen, preparing and plating food for the wenches and serfs to deliver to the royal court and their guests.

On Friday, I made a last minute decision to send Christmas cards this year after all, created 50 of them (after paring my list way down), and got them ready to mail. Then Darren, the boys, Darren's mom, our friends Tina and Wendell, their son Connor, and Tina's mom and sister all went to The Madrigal Feast together. This time, Darren and I got to be royal guests instead of kitchen grunts. The Madrigals put on a FABULOUS show - so entertaining and fun to be a part of.

The thing I loved most was how they entered the hall through the audience as they sang, allowing us to hear each choir member's voice individually as they went. The Madrigals are a 25-voice choir, and each one of them are incredibly talented - not a so-so voice in the bunch! It amazed me that they could be so far apart, in motion, with audience chatter going on around them, and they STILL sayed on key and together through the songs. I'm so glad that Dani gets to be a part of such an awesome group during her last year of high school!

On Saturday, I shopped. Up to that point, I'd only bought two gifts, but with a strict list in hand, I conquered most of Tarrant County's main shopping districts in under 6 hours, and crossed all but three small items off my list. I crossed two more off today and only have one more gift to buy. YAY! I've even wrapped most of them. Go me! (My foot hurts. A lot.)

Today, I decorated and prepared for the Fortress YDC Christmas Party. The Sunday School class that I teach was performing at the party; my 1st and 2nd graders - all boys - performed a skit about the shepherds who followed the star and found Baby Jesus just as the angel said they would. The boys wrote their own lines several weeks ago and have been practicing at home and on Sundays during class. They did such a fantastic job! I was so proud of each one of them today. Their audience was an overflowing, standing-room only crowd of 120 or so kids and adults, but they weren't nervous at all.

Tonight, the five of us hopped in the car and drove around to all of our favorite Fort Worth neighborhoods to look at Christmas lights. We made a game of finding "the worst lights we've ever seen", an honor which went to a certain house not far from home, and we oohed and aahed over the lights on the huge oak at Park Hill, the Lowden house near Rivercrest, and the backyard docks on Luther Lake.

And now I sit here, planning another week that's sure to be as busy and fun as this past one has been. I promise to blog as I go, though. I PROMISE.

tennis elbow and dodging shoes

2008-12-15T22:36:00.006-06:00

If any of you have played Wii Fit enough to be busted upside the head with a flying soccer cleat or three, then you were mightily impressed with W's dodgeball prowess this week. That's all I'm saying. (Ignore the cleat marks on my forehead.)

Speaking of Wii, I've gotten hooked on tennis. Darren and I play here in the family room after the kids go to bed, and tell me this isn't weird: when you play Wii Tennis, you don't have to actually move your body. All you have to do is move the remote. That's not the weird part, though. What's weird is that I cannot play worth a patoot unless I move about as if on the court. I position myself for either a backhand or a forehand shot, serve overhand, and even grunt ala Serena Williams when necessary. When I stand there and just move my remote - which works for some people whose names begin with AIDAN - I miss the dern ball everytime.

What's been happening is wonderful: I'm getting an actual aerobic workout bee-bopping all around the room, AND for once in my life, I'm able to play more than 1 volley of tennis before falling dead on the cement.

My favorite tennis memory: busting my little brother in the eyebrow and thinking I'd knocked his eyeball out when blood starting spurting all over the court. It was ALL HIS FAULT! If he'd have stayed on his own side of the court instead of being such a BOY and hogging MY SIDE too, my backhand would've never found its way to his face. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Is it possible to get tennis elbow standing in my family room? Methinks yes.

The Calm Christmas

2008-12-14T15:42:00.005-06:00

"When you have time, I'd love for you to go in and read the story Aidan wrote today. We wrote about our favorite Christmas memories. His is precious."

As it happened, I had time at that very moment, so on his teacher's suggestion, I walked inside the school and looked for the Santa paper with Aidan's name on it, expecting to read about a new bike or the year the kids got a Wii, or the year we went to Holiday in the Park at Six Flags.

"On my fifth Christmas, it was calm," I read aloud. "We talked about Jesus
christ and how he effected our Lives. We got no presents that year. I did
not care about presents. I care about my family. Oh, how I Loved that
christmas. it was so peaceful. Dear god. Thank you for are food and famLy,
thank you for everything. in Jesus name amen."

I glanced over at Aidan, who was smiling sweetly, clearly proud of his effort. I thought for a moment about what to say.

Finally I said, "So, Aidan. I don't remember this Christmas."

"That's because I made it up!" he exclaimed, breaking into a huge grin. "I couldn't remember any Christmas memories, so I just made one up!"

I congratulated him on his wonderful story and told him I thought it was beautiful. Then I called Darren from right there in the hallway, trying not to laugh out loud.

"Hey, listen to this story Aidan wrote and see if it rings a bell to you. It's his favorite Christmas memory, but I'm having a hard time remembering it myself. "

We had a good laugh, talked about how sweet the whole thing was, and then wondered if getting no presents THIS year would go over well.

Then I searched out Mrs. Bradshaw; I wanted to make sure she knew the story wasn't entirely accurate before she nominated us for KLTY's Christmas Wish or something. I can hear it now... Frank Reed sniveling and weeping, "Today's Christmas Wish comes from a second grade teacher, Mrs. Bradshaw, in Fort Worth. 'Dear Christmas Wish, I'm nominating the beautiful Kocur family because their poor children don't get gifts (sniffle snarvel chokechokechoke) on Christmas Day, but they're so precious they don't care. They went all semester without a haircut and looked like ragamuffins until someone finally took them to SuperCuts over Thanksgiving. (hey, gimme a break. I had a broken foot.) Sometimes they don't wear socks. (That's Aidan's preference, thank you very much.) They have to eat peanut butter every single day for lunch. (I try to make them branch out, but hey - they're peanut butter connoisseurs.) I want them to know the joy of opening a gift, for once in their sweet (snarf, stammer, sniff) lives."

"I found Aidan's story," I said when we found the teacher, "but he neglected to tell you that it wasn't a real memory."

"What!" she gasped, turning her attention to Aidan. "You MADE THAT UP?!"

I thought he was about to get reamed.

"I can't believe you made that up. Aidan! Have you ever thought about being a writer?"

He looked at the floor and barely shook his head.

"If you can write something that good sitting in class without even thinking about it, you should definitely think about being a writer when you grow up."

Then she looked at me and said, "It was such a sweet story."

I think she was disappointed that it wasn't true.

Stacy's Christmas Playlist

2008-12-10T22:55:00.004-06:00

Darren and I began building our Christmas music collection the first year we were married. For many years, we bought one Christmas CD each season, and we got to take turns picking out the year's album. On my years, we acquired stuff like "The Coolest Christmas", "A Very Special Christmas", and "Christmas with the Stars". I like compilations. When it was Darren's year to pick, we added the likes of Aaron Neville, "Celtic Christmas" and "Christmas with the Judds". One year, a friend gave us Celine Dion's Christmas album, and I threw up in my mouth a little. That is, until I heard "The Prayer", her duet with Andrea Bocelli. That song instantly became one of my lifetime favorites. I doubt I'll ever tire of it, partly because it reminds me of Aidan as a tiny baby. I'd play it over and over, singing in English and a sad excuse for Italian while he snuggled in my arms.

These days, we just cruise iTunes in search of a CD's worth of tunes. This year, I discovered an artist named Ali Matthews and became mesmerized by her silky smooth voice - it's so pure and melodic. Check her out! Her Christmas album is called "Looking for Christmas". I also discovered MercyMe's new Christmas album, "The Christmas Sessions". I went to high school with Bart Millard, the lead singer, but he was a lowly freshman and I was a snobby senior, so I never even knew him. I regret that every time I hear his warm, gravely voice on the radio.

A few years ago, I uploaded all of our versions of "O Holy Night" to iTunes and burned a CD for Darren. It's his favorite song, and I thought it would be really cool for him to have a CD of all its different variatios. I never did figure out if he thought it was cool or not.

This past weekend, I took a wise friends's sage advice (okay, it was Darren) and set aside an hour after the kids went to bed to slow down and just be. With no projects on my schedule (not that there weren't projects to be done - I just wasn't allowed to DO them!), I discovered time to do something I've wanted to do for a long time: I uploaded all of our Christmas CDs. Then I carefully and painstakingly chose a 25-song playlist of the tunes I can't live without each year.

O Holy Night by John Berry
Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy by Bing Crosby and David Bowie
The Prayer by Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli
Santa Claus is Coming to Town by Bruce Springsteen
Ave Maria by Andrea Bocelli
What Sweeter Music by The Cambridge Singers
Still, Still, Still by The Cambridge Singers
Have A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives
O Holy Night by Point of Grace
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer by The Smithereens
The Friendly Beasts by Garth Brooks
The Christmas Song by Aaron Neville
Winter Wonderland by Aretha Franklin
Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree by MercyMe
Christmastime is Here from A Charlie Brown Christmas
Sweet Little Jesus Boy - Natalie Cole
In the Bleak Midwinter - Ali Matthews
One Small Child - Ali Matthews
O Come O Come Emmanuel/What Child is This - Ali Matthews
Baby It's Cold Outside - Louis Armstrong
We Wish You A Merry Christmas - Relient K
Hallelujah Chorus - A Soulful Celebration
I Saw Three Ships - Sting
Angels We Have Heard on High - Point of Grace
The Wexbury Carol - Yo-Yo Ma with Allison Kraus

It's a mix of old and new, tried and true. Still and solemn, rocking and energetic. I love it all, and I love it all mixed up. Music - it's one of my favorite things about Christmas.

Elfed

2008-12-10T00:45:00.001-06:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

balancing act

2008-12-10T00:25:00.004-06:00

It's not anything that 1000s of other Moms don't do every week, but this working gig is kicking my tail. When it comes to maintaining any sort of "normal" around here, well, I'm not. Right now, I'm struggling to catch up on scrapbook jobs, decorate and shop for Christmas, celebrate both boys' birthdays, rehab my foot, catch up on all the little household things that got neglected when I was broken... and finding the new normal will just have to wait until the holidays are over.

I do love working again, though. And I've managed not to show up at the office in my pajama pants even ONCE! ;)

free at last

2008-11-13T23:35:00.004-06:00

Yesterday, I had to restrain myself.

See, I was sitting on the bed/table thingy in the doctor's office, and when Doc looked at my x-ray, then felt up my foot, then said, "You're fractures healed beautifully. Your ligament is healing. You can drive....", it took everything I had in me not to jump down off the table and kiss him full on the lips. Thankfully, I'd already warned Darren that if I got released to walk and drive, I'd be hugging the good doctor. Darren warned me to behave myself. ahem.

I celebrated today by taking my good friend Mecca out to lunch. She's the one who rescued me from my melancholy last summer and forced a pedicure and Lili's lunch on me. She's the one who called on her way to Target however many times to see if I needed anything since she was going anyway...the one who walked down the street once a week and carried my dirty laundry home, then brought it back clean and folded the next day. The one who invites my boys over to play "because it helps her out". Oh yes, I love me some Mecca.

I wore a pair of cute shoes for the first time in 8 weeks, and I felt marvelous! Walking seems a little treacherous, though. It's weird to be aware of every single bone and muscle as I plant my foot with each step. My ankle feels weak, and by the end of the day, my calf and hamstrings are sore. This poor leg has a long way to go before it's normal again. Bring on the physical therapy!

But today, I'm thankful that I'm on my way to full recovery. I'm ready to walk. Heck, I'm ready to RUN!! Thank God for continued healing, and for friends like Mecca who are seeing me through the process. :)

O LORD my God, I called to you for help

and you healed me.

Psalm 30:2
(Is it wrong that the next verse cracks me up 'cause I'm totally taking it out of context?)

O LORD...

you spared me from going down into the pit.

Psalm 30:3

(Nah. It's not bad. My God - I'm sure of it - is a laughing God. :))

in my room

2008-11-11T23:20:00.005-06:00

One month ago, my doctor told me to move my bedroom downstairs until my foot healed.
This past weekend while I was out of town, Darren moved us back upstairs to our own bedroom. WOO HOO!

Psssst. Hey neighbors! The show is over! I hope you got your money's worth! bwahahaha

Yep, it's true. For the past month, we've been camping out on a futon in the front room, in front of a big window with sheers for privacy, and a glass-paned front door. It's nice to be back upstairs in my own bed, under my ceiling fan, enjoying the ambience, and able to undress with the light on. And now, I don't have to worry about Mecca walking right into my bedroom! (Love you, Mec! We really WERE just taking a nap that afternoon, though I know you'll never believe it!)

It was good for me to be away, as the old adage proved true once again: absense makes the heart grow fonder. It MUST be true, because I awoke one morning to hear my roommates giggling about the dream I'd had that woke them all up. I wish I could remember it - it sounded quite delicious!!

When I arrived home Sunday night, Darren had a surprise for me. Not only had he moved everything back, he'd also cleaned up and... get this... lit candles! Our bedroom was flickering with romance and smelled heavenly. It made me realize how much I'd missed my bedroom. Everything is just as I left it - the Texas Monthly with Matthew McConnaughey still lies on the floor next to my side of the bed. I think I'll never move it. *sigh*. The stack of books I've yet to read have gathered dust on the side table. The pillow I was using to prop my foot up on as I slept is still shamless. And the walls are still sunny yellow during the day, and golden rich at night.

Today, I'm thankful to be back in my bedroom, thankful to be safely traversing the stairs, and thankful for romance. :)

Hallelujah! You who serve God, praise God!

Just to speak his name is praise!

Just to remember God is a blessing—

now and tomorrow and always.

From east to west, from dawn to dusk,

keep lifting all your praises to God!

Psalm 113: 1-3

where I've been and where I'll be

2008-11-10T23:37:00.002-06:00

You thought I already got bored with the thankful challenge, didn't you? You're wrong! I've been away since early Thursday morning, enjoying the dawg outta myself with 49 of the funniest, kindest, most talented women I know. It was my 5th annual scrapbooking retreat, and BOY did I enjoy myself! So much so, in fact, that in a 90-hour period, I only scrapbooked 6 pages. Eek! But it was worth every penny and every minute just to spend time with friends. More on that later.

In other news, I started a new job!

Most of you think of Fortress as my church, and it is. But about 4 years ago, we reorganized and the after-school program became a 501(c)3 non-profit organization called Fortress Youth Development Center. Last year, I designed a website for us that details the various ministries under that umbrella.

I've been a long-time volunteer, working on various creative projects, designing brochures, helping make our grant-writing look snazzy, etc. For the past couple of months, I've been working on our first annual Dinner and Auction. We raised over $17,000 with that event! While I was working on it, Michael (Fortress' Executive Director) started talking to me about making what I do a paying job. I accepted immediately!

I'd been looking at having to get a job, anyway. The economy has already affected my scrapbook business; two of the jobs on my fall schedule had to cancel due to finances, even though they'd already paid a deposit. When you have to tighten your purse strings, payin' someone to scrapbook your vacations SHOULD be the first to go, ya know? (eta: I'll still be scrapbooking for my regular clients and for any new ones who come along as well.)

Dani starts college next fall, and even if she gets plenty of scholarship and loan money, I still think of Bill Cosby's advice: When you budget for college, you've got your tuition and board, then your incidentals, but don't forget your ASKidentals, 'cause that's the most expensive part. ha! Also, the boys are old enough now to be in Scouts and sports, and that costs money. And our poor house needs so much work. It was time for me to pitch in more anyway.

I worried about marketing myself, having been out of the workforce for 6 years, and with no degree. How blessed I am to get to work for a ministry I'm so passionate about, AND to be doing something that I'm really good at and that is so much fun. The job just fell in my lap, and I'm so, so grateful!

Here's what I'm doing, in case you're curious:

JOB TITLE: Director of Public Relations & Communications

DATE: November 2008

REPORTS TO: Executive Director

JOB DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES:

Strategic Planning

Assist in short- and long-range strategic planning activities to create and implement public relations goals and objectives.
Work closely with staff and leadership to assess both public relations needs and priorities.

Communication

Direct the production of printed publications; write materials for and direct the layout of informational materials
Initiate, develop, and maintain local media and public contacts for disseminating information; research and write news releases
Create and implement plan to recruit volunteers where needed
Communicate regularly with volunteers, donors and potential volunteers and donors to convey needs of the program and updates on progress through the following methods:
Post weekly on Fortress blog; write and publish monthly E-newsletter; update website at least once a month; write, publish and mail quarterly newsletter
Establish and maintain local church relations as it pertains to communication

Fundraising

In-Kind Donations
Create and implement a plan to secure needed items through in-kind donations, soliciting groups, churches, classes, families, etc. for donation drives/collections
Dinner and Auction Fundraiser
Chair committee; Recruit committee members and volunteers; Design all marketing materials and market event throughout the year; Create and implement plan for displaying auction items
General Fundraising
Help develop materials and resources for fundraising/development purposes;
Be willing to reach out to sphere of influence and share funding needs and opportunities

Today, I'm thankful for a job that landed in my lap. I'm thankful that I'll get to keep working with people I love, doing work that I'm good at, and on projects that interest me. I'm thankful that it allows me to use my talents and skills to benefit a ministry that I'm passionate about, and that I'll be getting paid for work I'd likely be doing anyway! I'm thankful that Michael offered me the job and then convinced the Board that I was the best candidate for it. I'm thankful that I can help provide for our family in a tangible way, and still be home for the kids when they're not in school!I'm exceedingly grateful.
I'm happy. :)

I give thanks to Him Who has granted me [the needed] strength
and made me able [for this], Christ Jesus our Lord,
because He has judged and counted me faithful and trustworthy,
appointing me to [this stewardship of] the ministry.
I Timothy 1:12 (Amplified Bible)

Hair Makeover

2008-11-05T22:52:00.010-06:00

Aren't these cool? These are the colors I chose when I sidled up to the Color Bar at Magnolia Ave Salon this afternoon. I went in for my celebratory hair makeover - my reward for reaching my halfway mark! As of this week, I've lost 70 pounds! WHEEEE!

I went to a new salon because I wanted a new 'do by someone who wasn't afraid to let me be bold. I wanted someone edgy. I was told that Magnolia Ave was my answer, and I booked a consultation and appointment on blind faith.

After telling Richard that I wanted red lowlights and honey highlights, he gently told me that I was using '90s speak, and asked if I wanted to try something new. Uh, YAH. The method is called color blocking, and the technique he used is called "the sun". Basically, we put the darkest color - a red brown - all over. Then he took a mid-section layer around my crown and colored "sunbursts" in the honey. Finally, he topped it on the topmost layer with a color between the two. It gives me bold color and lots of movement, which is exactly what I wanted. :)

As for the haircut, it's not quite as drastic as I was hoping, but it's a good cut. He took 3" off the length, then layered it up in choppy chunks. I also cut my bangs back to chin-length and had him blend them into the back. Lots of play with this cut, and it's a cinch to style!

So... without further ado, here's the before:

And here's the after! (with Richard the Colorista)

Darren took this one a few minutes ago, 10 hours after the fact, all sweaty and gross and limp. But you get a better feel for the chunky color at this angle....

Today, I'm thankful that when I changed into the smock at the salon and realized that there was only one size (Fits All) to choose from, there was no need to panic. I fit! :)

Blessed be God— he heard me praying.
He proved he's on my side; I've thrown my lot in with him.
Now I'm jumping for joy, and shouting and singing my thanks to him.
Psalm 28:5-7 (The Message)

change

2008-11-04T23:32:00.005-06:00

Darren and me at Wendy's election party.

I don't generally discuss politics. Save for this entry (and now this one), I doubt I've ever mentioned politics on this blog. There are a few reasons for that. Number one, I'm not well-read enough to carry on intelligent conversation about policy or candidates. Often, I'm an emotional thinker rather than an analytical one, and that just doesn't bode well in political discussions and debates. And number two, I'm a terrible debater, so I just avoid them altogether. :)

The sad truth is, politics just has never really interested me. History classes were barely tolerable; in fact, the only thing that kept me awake during Mrs. S's class was guessing how much thigh she'd show while sitting at her desk, and then watching everyone wince and gag when the view became R-rated.

Dani, who at 17 can't be heard yet, is quite the little pundit. She knows what she thinks and she thinks analytically. She can hold her own on any political subject. For fun, she reads books about the Holocaust and the 1960s; tonight, she started reading this. Me, I even snoozed through the week we played RISK in Mrs. S's class, which everyone else thought was the best week of the whole semester.

So - I don't generally talk politics. And I won't start now, except to say that today, it was a privilege to cast my ballot. My vote didn't make much of a difference here in red Texas - I mean, we're still a red state - but nonetheless, I cast it, and that alone is enough. I feel invigorated and optimistic about the future, and I'll always be proud that I participated in this historic election.

Today, I'm thankful for the privilege of casting my vote.
I agonized over my decision, riding the fence, feeling overwhelmingly one way, then sliding toward the other side. Ultimately, this morning as I looked down and saw the candidates' names in black and white, I was thankful for clarity.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything,

by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,

present your requests to God.

Phillipians 4:6

ABFFs

2008-11-03T23:35:00.007-06:00

(A month of thanks, day 2)

me, Nikki and Kristi - the past Sunday at Fortress

Five years ago, I stepped through the doors of Fortress Church for the first time, having no clue that it was about to change my life, literally. Because of Fortress, Darren and I decided to stay here in Fort Worth instead of chasing dreams of New England. We laid down roots (finally) and commited our resources and lives to the very worthy ministries under Fortress's umbrella. In so many ways, our involvement with Fortress has blessed and enriched us.

For the first year, I kept wondering WHY I felt so strongly about being there. See, Fortress exists to serve the kids who live in the urban jungle of Fort Worth. KIDS. I make no secret about the fact that I'm not a kid person. I love my own kids more than my own life, and I love my neices and nephews and my friends' kids - but mostly only 'cause I love my friends. I never enjoyed babysitting as a teenager. I've just never been a kid person. And so I kept asking myself, "Why are you HERE? What is your purpose?"

For several years, I'd been praying for a best friend - one who didn't belittle my faith, one who was on the same road of life I was on, one who could give as well as take. One day, it finally dawned on me. I was at Fortress because that's where the answer to my prayer was! Not only had I found the best friend I'd longed for, I'd found them in PLURAL!

I'll blog about them this month, in more detail. But today, I feel especially thankful for Nikki. When I walked through those doors that crisp November morning in 2003, she was a senior in high school. I never dreamed back then that in a few years, she'd be one of my nearest and dearest friends, that she'd take to calling me her ABFF (adult best friend forever), or that I'd cherish her as I do. She encourages me by noticing my accomplishments and remarking on them. She's always ready with a squeezy hug. She laughs at my lame jokes and makes a bazillion lame jokes of her own. She's a total goofball, and I love it!

One night several months ago, she was behind the wheel and stopped in the middle of the road, calling a Chinese Fire Drill. Cara, Kristi and I - because we're the mature ones - jumped out of the Suburban and started running around the back of the vehicle. Nikki gunned it and went roaring down the road, leaving us in her dust to fend for ourselves in an area of town well-known for prostitution. I could've been furious, but as soon as we caught up to the car, which Nikki had pulled over into the turn lane, her riotous laughter completely erased my ire.

I love this girl, and thank God for her everyday. I heart you, CBFF! (college best friend forever)

"I thank my God everytime I remember you."

Philippians 1:3

A Month of Thanks

2008-11-02T19:53:00.004-06:00

My cyberfriend Sherry issued a challenge for the month of November, and I'm IN, baby!

I have so much to be thankful for. Today, I'm especially thankful that even though I've been unable to work out aerobically for the last 7 weeks, I've managed to lose weight! I slipped into a new size of jeans today - one I've never worn! When I got pregnant with Dani, I was a 12-14. After nine months, I'd gained 40 pounds and was only wearing stretched out elastic stuff. I continued to gain weight after the pregnancy, and when I finally bought my first pair of post-baby jeans, they were 20s.

Today, I wore a pair of 16s.

There's no reason that *I* should be credited with the continued weight loss. About two weeks ago, I re-invited God to be a part of this journey with me. I'd let myself become complacent about my healthy eating, and hadn't made an effort to work out at all. When I relinquished control and stopped feeling sorry for myself, I actually FELT like working out, and got pretty creative about going about it. I got serious about eating right again. And I lost weight. And a pants size.

All because God is in control. I'm thankful that He's real, and that He doesn't hesitate to prove it to me over and over again!

Give thanks to God—he is good and his love never quits.

I Chronicles 16:34 (The Message)

in the news

2008-10-31T08:29:00.003-05:00

This story makes me happy:

11:08 AM CDT on Wednesday, October 29, 2008
By JESSICA MEYERS/ The Dallas Morning News

Marilyn Mock went to last weekend’s foreclosure auction in Dallas as a dutiful parent. She left as a minor celebrity. Now, she’s a national hero.

The 50-year-old Rockwall woman acted on instinct when she bought Tracy Orr’s Pottsboro home back for her while Ms. Mock’s son was signing papers on his first house. But at a time when economic woes rule the headlines, a stranger’s big-heartedness can make national news.Ms. Mock’s good deed prompted Good Morning America to knock on her door before dawn, drew local police to investigate CNN’s satellite truck, and led to a slew of interview requests from the Oprah, Ellen and Dr. Phil shows.

“All these people are calling and calling and calling and calling,” said Ms. Mock, who runs a rock yard with her three children. Two pot-bellied pigs wander around outside.

“I don’t understand it. I just happened to be there, and anybody else would have done the same thing.”

But few others have agreed to bid on a piece of property they’ve never seen, for someone they’ve never met. Ms. Mock paid about $30,000 for the house in Grayson County and plans to use her dump truck as collateral against the mortgage payments. Ms. Orr will make payments to her instead of a bank, Ms. Mock said.

The women are awaiting final approval from Fannie Mae before they visit the single-family home for which Ms. Orr, 38, took out an $80,000 mortgage in 2004. She lost her job a month after taking out the loan, and earlier this year she lost the house.

“I’d kind of already accepted the fact that this was the end. It was closure,” she said.The two women were sitting by the auction door Saturday when Ms. Mock struck up a conversation with the sobbing Ms. Orr and discovered that she was about to lose her house.

“Then she was standing there and bidding and someone was shaking my hand,” Ms. Orr said.

“She didn’t even know if I had a job or was a nut case. She didn’t even see a picture of the house.”

None of that mattered, Ms. Mock said. “She needed help. That was it.”

Ms. Orr’s fairytale rescue happened amid a sea of foreclosures. At least 4,200 homes in the Dallas area are scheduled for a foreclosure sale in November, according to Addison-based Foreclosure Listing Service. More than 46,000 homeowners have been threatened with foreclosure this year, a 31 percent increase from the same period last year.

“All these things were going through my mind,” Ms. Mock said. “I grabbed her arm and pulled her with me and tried to make her understand.”

After the purchase, Ms. Orr disappeared. “I thought, what if she left?” Ms. Mock said. “What would I tell my husband, ‘Hello, honey, I bought a house for this lady and I don’t know where she went?’.”

But Ms. Orr, a former U.S. Postal Service employee and now a housekeeper at All Saints Camp and Conference Center, was waiting outside in tears.

Then a news camera showed up.
“They caught us,” said Ms. Mock, who was hoping to keep the deal quiet.

The Mock family is adjusting to the extra attention, said her son Dustin,27, who accompanied her that day.

“I said, ‘I can’t believe you just did that. What are you thinking?’.” he said. “It’s a little annoying,” he admitted about the endless ringing of the phone. “People are calling to say, ‘The story touched me so much.’ We appreciate
it, but we are trying to get stuff done.”

The women talk on the phone daily but haven’t met since the purchase or worked out details of the financial arrangement. In the meantime, Ms. Orr said she doesn’t mind the barrage of media, saying she hopes others will follow Ms. Mock’s lead.

“More than my house, she gave me something inside, and that’s more important than material or financial things,” she said.

I was surprised to read THIS one. I SURVIVED MY FIRST EARTHQUAKE, and I didn't even know it!

Two minor earthquakes shake Dallas-Fort Worth area 08:26 AM CDT on Friday, October 31, 2008
By ARLINDA ARRIAGA /
The Dallas Morning News

Dallas-Fort Worth residents received a pre-Halloween scare as two minor
earthquakes shook the area overnight.

The U.S. Geological Survey says a 2.5-magnitude earthquake centered in
the Grand Prairie area was reported at 11:25 p.m. Thursday. A slightly stronger
3.0-magnitude quake centered in the Irving area occurred 36 minutes later.

Law enforcement agencies across northern Texas said they received some
911 calls from concerned residents but no reports of damage.

Irving police spokesman David Tull said his agency received about 25
calls around midnight from people inquiring about the vibrations, which set off
car and building alarms.

Grand Prairie and Fort Worth officials also reported no damage. "We
just learned about it on the news this morning,” said Dawn Atkins, a Grand
Prairie emergency dispatcher.

USGS geophysicist Randy Baldwin said the quakes, which lasted only a
few seconds, most likely felt "like a lightly loaded truck passing by, kind of a
sharp jerk and then a rapid vibration."

Irving resident Christine Laughland said she was sleeping when the
earthquake woke her up. She's from California and wasn't too shocked by the
vibrations. But she couldn't say the same thing for her dogs. “They were barking
hysterically because it was their first one,” she said.

Reports of the quake also came from Dallas, Euless and Hurst and
Fort Worth, Mr. Baldwin said. Aftershocks could last several days. There is also
a possibility of more smaller quakes in the coming days that no one would likely
feel.

Texas occasionally has earthquakes. An April 7 earthquake in southern
Texas had a 3.7 magnitude. A minor earthquake was felt by some people in
Amarillo on March 30, 2002. The Amarillo area also recorded seven minor
earthquakes in 2000.
The Associated Press contributed to this report.

playing catch up

2008-10-29T09:10:00.013-05:00

For someone who's stuck on her butt, I've sure been busy!

But enough about me.

Here's a quick run-down of what's been happenin' here in FunkyTown.

Dani is a senior! She's having the BEST year of her high school career, socially and academically. Thank goodness! Her SAT score came in last week, and she did great. These days, SATs are graded on a 2400-point scale. She scored 660 in math, 730 in verbal and 710 in writing, for a score of 2100. That's the equivalent of a 1390 on the old-school 1600-point system. :) She's still working for the lawyer downtown after school, but it's only 8 hours a week and she's finding that it barely puts gas in the car. She's looking for a temporary seasonal job through Christmas so she can afford to buy gifts. She auditioned for All-region choir last week and was bummed to place as 2nd Alternate, meaning she still has to learn the music for Area, but isn't guaranteed an audition time. She's been amazing while I've been hurt. She helps get the boys off to school in the mornings, picks them up in the afternoons, drives me wherever I need to go and pushed the wheelchair without being TOO horribly embarrassed, runs a bazillion errands for me, cooks dinner and cleans the kitchen more than she should have to, and does it with a good attitude. Last week, I had to be at a meeting about the auction (more on that in another post), and Darren was scheduled for a 5k race, and it also happened to be Open House at the boys' school. Dani took them, and even took photos of their work so I could feel like I didn't miss so much. To reward and thank her for her hard work and her cheerful disposition about it, Darren and I won something for her at the auction - but that's another post, too. Here she is with one of her BFFs.

Aidan started his first season of soccer this fall. He plays in the YMCA league; they play all kids at all positions at this age, but Aidan's favorite is halfback. It's amazing to watch him play. From the time he was four years old, he could dribble the ball. We couldn't believe it the first time he did it; he knew how to take the ball all the way down the field, dribbling between feet as he went! He's aggressive and FAST. I think he's one of those guys who is just naturally athletic. Speaking of... he's training with Darren again, and will run his next 5k on Thanksgiving morning. And he's growing his hair out. Before school started, he printed out a picture of (The Suite Life of) Zach and Cody and said he wanted his hair like theirs. Crack. Me. UP.

Ian is all boy. All over the place, all the time. He's been sent to the nurse twice this year after smacking his head when the legs of his chair went flying. He can't seem to keep all four of them on the ground at the same time. He loses his backpack, homework, folder, shoes..... constantly. And yet, his teacher loves him. Darren and I had a conference with her last week and she giggled the whole time. He's reading a couple of grade levels ahead of his class, and she's working on a special math curriculum for him. I've said for a long time that I'm not smart enough to raise this kid, and it becomes more evident every day! He doesn't hate girls as much as he used to, but don't tell HIM that.

Darren ran his first 10k a couple of weeks ago. His time was 58:47. I didn't get to go; it happened right after I broke my foot and I was still completely immobile. BUMMER! He's running both the 5k and the 10k at the Turkey Trot next month, and depending on where we have Thanksgiving, I don't know if I'll be here or 3 hours north in Oklahoma. I hope I get to watch him!

6 Random Things

2008-10-27T02:06:00.002-05:00

The Rules:1. Link to the person who tagged you (Elaine tagged me).
2. Post the rules on your blog (this is what you are now reading).
3. Write 6 random things about yourself (see below).
4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Ok. Now that we have THAT out of the way...
The Random:

1. I'm a crazy driver. This wheelchair has two speeds: turtle and rabbit. I love to go fast, and because I'm not real good with the joystick that controls this thing, I've taken paint off of doorfacings, a chunk of wood out of the french door, busted a porcelain knob right off the kitchen cabinet, and run over two friends' toes. Even the cat is scared of me now.

2. I'm addicted to Dove Dark Chocolate and Blue Diamond Bold Lime n Chili almonds.

3. I won't drink out of a cup at a restaurant unless it's with a straw. I hate to even share my drinks with my kids, so the concept of drinking out of a cup someone else used this morning grosses me out. I've seen too many lipstick prints on "clean restaurant cups".

4. I kinda miss the workplace since I started working from home 6 years ago. I'm moving back into a full-time job, and am hoping to be full-time by this time next year.

5. The first thing I notice on a man is his calves. Then his butt. But if his calves are exposed, that's where I look first. Since Darren started running last year, his calves have become beautiful, and his butt.... never mind. I don't wanna embarrass my Mom.

6. I'm thrifty, frugal, and sometimes downright cheap, but there are a few things that I'm a brand snob about:

paper towels must be Viva, and white.
Mac-n-Cheese must be Kraft.
Coke must be Coke, not Pepsi and especially not "cola".
cotton swabs must be Q-Tip
Aveda hand therapy lotion
Secret deodorant - lately I'm hooked on the Asian Pear scent!

I tagged: Bobbie, Terri, Desiree, Summer, Nookie, Carrie

cautiously optimistic!

2008-10-22T14:20:00.002-05:00

Dr. Myers looked at today's xray, then without facial expression, looked at me and said, "There's been no change."

It scared me at first.

"That's good, right?" I asked.

He replied enthusiasticly, "That's excellent! It's what we were hoping for."

"So... we don't have to talk surgery?"

"Not today, at least," he answered. "I'm cautiously optimistic."

So, all these hours of riding around in my wheelchair and making people run my errands is paying off. I have to continue staying off the foot for two more weeks. Then I get to start putting weight on it a little at a time... still in my boot and on crutches... 25% for 2 days, then 50% for two more days if there's no pain, and then 75% for two days. On the seventh day, he'll X-ray again and we'll see how it's reacting under pressure.

YAY!!! There's an end in sight! I can't wait to be able to walk again!

You should see my right leg. The little bit of muscle definition I'd developed over the last few months is gone. It's a sad little sorry excuse for a calf compared to my left leg. Doc says that I'll require rehabilitation, because my quads and joints and calves have been dormant for so long. It'll be 7-8 weeks from the day he declares me "healed" before I can count on walking for exercise or doing Nia.

Even so, I'm ecstatic!!! If I can just be good for two more weeks and stay off my foot, bone fusion surgery is getting drop-kicked out the window. YAY!

diagnosis: grim

2008-10-08T13:51:00.003-05:00

See the two red lines? That's where the fractures are. They're healing perfectly. Nothing to worry about.

Now, see those two circles? Take a look at the one on the left. Notice the vertical black space between the two bones. That's my healthy left foot.

Compare that space to the one on my right foot. See how the space is wider and longer? That's bad. It's a torn ligament. What's worse is, the reason the gap is so wide is because the other 4 metatarsals are sliding off to the right, away from my big tone bone. That's very bad. As the podiatrist said, "We're dealing with a substantial injury here. This is serious."

Then he had a Come To Jesus meeting with me.

Under no circumstances am I to put any weight or pressure on the foot - for FIVE MORE WEEKS. That means no walking, no standing, no stepping for balance, no driving, no kickball (ha!), and get this - no placing my foot on the ground when I'm sitting. NO STRESS WHATSOEVER.

There's no magic that will pull those bones back to where they're supposed to be; our only hope is that they don't slip further apart. It's imperative that I stay off of it. The doctor conferred with one of his surgeons today, who agreed that if it separates a fraction more, it'll require surgery. They'll recheck it in two weeks to see if it's continuing to slide. "Trust me," he said. "You do not want a bone fusion in your foot at 39." It would mean a lifetime of painful and limited walking. As it is, this injury alone could nag me forever. Told ya it was grim news. At least it doesn't hurt much anymore.

He prescribed a wheelchair. I wonder if I can borrow one instead of paying high rent for one?

Looks like I'll be learning real fast how to get over myself and lose some pride. I'll be asking for help. I won't be trying to sweep the kitchen myself, or throw a load of laundry in myself, or walk around in my boot - however carefully - ever again. I owe it to my family to let this thing heal so they don't have to deal with months of recovery instead of weeks. And I owe it to myself, damn it.

Over the last several months, so many things had started coming together in my personal life. One, my health was under control and I'd lost 60 pounds. Suddenly, I can't walk anymore, or dance, which were my two main forms of cardio. I've got to figure out a new workout strategy that doesn't involve my feet. Any suggestions?

And two, I'd finally conquered my intense dislike for housework and devised a system that was working for me. My house was staying CLEAN, and the laundry was never piled up. Even though Darren and the kids have taken over all of my former chores, it still realllllly pisses me off that all those months of hard work and getting things in order are going up in smoke. You know the saying... "If you want it done right, do it yourself"? I have to accept the fact that since I can't do it myself, I have to be content with how it's being done.

For someone as active as I am, being immobile has been torture. Five weeks seems like a lifetime, but at least there's light at the end of the tunnel. I can do it. What's harder for me is this: I have to swallow my pride and ask for help. I can't keep using my foot, and Darren can't keep carrying the extra load by himself. Neither can Dani. We need outside help. That's the hardest thing I've ever had to admit.

I'm smiling because...

2008-10-07T00:18:00.003-05:00

1. Darren brought me flowers today.

2. Ian said to Darren last night, "Will Mom be back before my bedtime?" (no) "Well, give her a message. Ms. Bailey (his art teacher) said she likes everything Mom does." awwww!

3. I laughed out loud several times tonight at Denny Crane.

4. I'm drawing near to a major deadline and that always gets me revved up.

5. I'm really happy with the job I finished today.

6. My orange pants are too big!!

7. The kitchen is clean.

8. The laundry is caught up.

9. The boys did their homework without complaint today.

10. I get to leave the house tomorrow. :)

still broken

2008-09-29T17:46:00.005-05:00

Since people keep asking me how my foot's doing, I'll just answer once and for all here on the great big internets. (crack me up)

It's still broken.

The bruising appeared early last weekend, and turned all sorts of purple and black - across and around and under my toes, mostly, which I think it weird. It's now a muted purple/green and doesn't look as gruesome. I should've taken pictures, but decided that no one needed to be subjected to that, so I didn't. You can thank me any time.

When I'm wearing the boot, the swelling seems to be a lot worse, and then my toes go numb, and my leg starts itching, and I get all kinds of cranky, so mostly I keep it off. All I'm doing is sitting around on my rumpus anyway, right?

I haven't walked or driven or even stood for any length of time in almost 2 weeks, and for a person as active as I am, well.... you draw the conclusion. I feel trapped and homebound and like a drain on society. Ha! People keep commenting that it must be nice to be waited on hand and foot, but I gotta tell ya: I'm not enjoying it so much. When I need a drink, I'd rather be able to get up and get it myself. When I have to ask someone, I feel like a burden, especially when 30 minutes later I have to ask again, and 20 minutes after that, my tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth and I'm still waiting. It infuriates me to have to depend on others; I really hate being so needy. I told Darren to just buy a couple of feed sacks and tie 'em around my neck. Hey - it works for horses, it could work for me!

Thank God for Cara, my nurse friend who finally laid eyes on me crutching around all hunch-backed, and adjusted my crutches properly. She saved me from a debilitating case of Quasimodo Syndrome, which I'm certain was setting in. It's amazing how much easier it is to get around on those things when they're adjusted correctly!

Even so, my house is full of stairs. You can't get IN without climbing stairs. Not in the front, nor in the back. Once inside, you can't get to a bathroom without traversing more steps. Even though the downstairs bath is down a short flight of only 3 steps, let me assure you, my friends: three mere steps with no handrails, ample bazooms, a pair of crutches, a foot that won't bear weight, and general hurriedness combined with profound clumsiness does not a pretty picture make. I've fallen three times. Imagine, if you will, leaning over and trying to hop down one step. First of all, I HAVE to lean over to even see the step over my bahombas. Secondly, when I lean over, my center of balance is all screwed up. I sometimes think we should video my bathroom treks, especially on those occasions when I'm not wearing a bra and the clap of boobs-on-belly sets off seismic activity that's picked up in Marin County CA. Surely we could win $100,000 on Funniest Videos, which would then allow us to install an elevator.

Going up is much easier. I use my right knee and my left foot, which leaves only one position for my butt: up in the air. I've actually gotten pretty fast at ascending to my bedroom. The cat stares and cocks her head, but no one else has had the nerve to laugh out loud yet.

Pain-wise, for the past two days, it's been mostly non-existent unless I'm waking on it. Which, of course, I'm not supposed to be doing. The broken bones should be healing just fine, but the ligament is what the doctor is worried about. Next Wednesday, we'll reX-ray and go from there. Until then, I have to try to stay off of that foot. Anyone have a feed bag I can borrow?

Countdown #2

2008-09-22T14:28:00.002-05:00

10 Things I Want to Do Before I Die:

skydive
run a 10k
wear a size 8
own a VW bug again
finish my degree
publish a book
climb a 14er
tour Italy
live in Ireland
own a mountain cabin

9 Places I Last Spent Money:

Walmart
2 Peas in a Bucket
Walgreens
Orthopedist's office
Doctor's office
The Wild Bunch
Staples
USPS
Target

8 Sounds I Routinely Hear Around My House:

Pow Schpuh Hoooh Ahhh PshouPshou (the boys having light saber fights)
Brick House (Cara calling)
the landline ringing
someone clacking on a keyboard
Spanky, the next door dog
mail dropping through the slot
ice maker
iTunes

7 Real Restaurants Where I Last Ate Out

Pappasito's
Chili's
Lili's Bistro
Old Neighborhood Grill
Flying Fish
Mi Familia
Chadra Mezza

6 Things I've Recently Scratched Off My To-Do List

get packages ready to mail
get quotes from printers
cut letters for Kristen's wall
design YDC newsletter
work on lesson plans for Bible class
sort the kids' outgrown clothes

5 People I Don't Know but Would Like to Hang Out With

Ellen DeGeneres
Steven Curtis Chapman and family
Kacey Luvi
Carrie in the West Bank
The Fug Girls

4 Songs That Make Me Happy

I Will Change Your Name
I Can See Clearly Now
Song Sung Blue
Forever Young

3 Things I Hate To Do:

Dishes
Get out of bed in the morning
Come home to a messy house

2 Things I'm Really Good At:

Procrastinating
Hand-lettering

1 Bad Habit:

Picking at my cuticles

And now... how did I answer these same questions 2 years ago?
Clicky

Plain Dumb Bad Luck

2008-09-17T22:34:00.001-05:00

We have a guest blogger today. Darren is writing this blog because Stacy is incapacitated in the bed. "How'd that happen?", you ask. Well, I'll tell you.

Have you ever had something happen to you and it seemed like you were just, through no fault of your own, completely in the wrong place at the wrong time. In Texas we call that dumb bad luck.

Stacy wanted to do something fun for herself this week. First, she thought about getting a pedicure. But she stepped outside and it was one of those gorgeous sunny fall days in Texas, so she decided instead that she'd like to pick me up from work for a picnic lunch by the Trinity River.

So, she picked me up around noon and we drove down 7th Street to Trinity Park. When we got there, though, they were doing construction on the roads and parking lots. There was nowhere to go, so I suggested a little parking area on the other side of the river that I'd driven by many times. So, we crossed back over the Trinity and went down Forest Park Blvd. until we found the spot.

It was a beautiful spot. There was a picnic table, but Stacy had brought a blanket because she wanted to lay in the shade under a tree. There was a nice pecan tree nearby with a flat grassy area so we made our picnic there. It was great. We ate and talked and lay there and had a great time enjoying being outdoors on a beautiful day.

The weekly tornado siren testing let us know it was 1:00 and time for me to head back to work. I grabbed the trash and drinks and headed back to the car, leaving Stacy to bring the blanket. I was halfway to the car when I suddenly heard Stacy screaming. She was clearly in terrible pain. I set all the stuff on the ground and ran back to her.

When I got back to her, she was rolling around on the ground, holding one leg up at a funny angle. I thought she had dislocated her knee. I asked her what was hurting she couldn't tell me, she was in too much pain. I knew something serious was wrong. I gently grabbed her leg and foot and she flinched and yelped. Finally, she told me her foot was hurt.

To try to figure out what was wrong, I reached for her foot, but at a touch from my fingertips, she winced and flinched again. I knew it was bad, and I told her I thought it was broken. I said we'd go straight to the doctor's office and went to move the car to the closest part of the parking area.

When I got back, I saw Stacy was laying on her stomach looking into a hole. She had been walking to the car and all of a sudden her left foot and leg had sunk into the ground all the way to her thigh. Her weight had suddenly shifted to her off-balance right foot with no time to prepare, injuring it. I was wondering to myself how there could be such a deep hole in such an innocuous-looking spot.

Upon closer inspection, I realized the hole had not been there before. There was still grass covering the hole and it had obviously been torn by her foot. At the bottom of the hole, there was a mound of fresh dirt and grass that she had knocked down there. Stacy had stepped on a weak spot in the ground, where a sewer line ran underneath, and the ground had collapsed beneath her.

The sewer line had an opening at that point for a drain, but no drain had been installed. Instead it had been covered with dirt. Over time, the dirt above had gradually collapsed into the sewer line underneath as water washed through it, until there was a cavity in the earth below with only a few inches of soil held together by the roots of the grass. One step on that would've sent anyone crashing through. Stacy was the person with the dumb bad luck to step on that one spot first.

I tore out the grass from over the hole so it would be visible to anyone else walking by. Then I helped Stacy onto her good foot and held her up as she hopped a few hops. Each hop brought excruciating pain to her hurt foot. We made it as far as the nearby picnic table. I went back to the XTerra and off-roaded down to the picnic table, where I helped her to gingerly get in. A call to the doctor got her in quickly thanks to a last-minute cancellation, so we headed straight there.

At the doctor's office, the X-rays confirmed two broken bones. The X-ray below is not Stacy's, but I circled the part of her foot where the breaks were. The doctor called a nearby orthopedist to arrange a visit for that afternoon.

From there it was on to the orthopedist. We parked in the handicapped parking and joked about getting a ticket. "I think I could get us out of that one," I said. Thankfully, both the doctor's office and the orthopedist had loaner wheelchairs, so Stacy mostly got to roll around. It was tricky getting in and out of our high-clearance XTerra, though. Stacy practically had to do a chin-up using the handles above the door!

The orthopedist touched Stacy's foot all over to ensure that the pain matched up with the breaks he could see on the X-ray. He was also concerned that she might have strained or torn the ligament holding her big toe to the toe next to it. Meanwhile, Stacy was mortified because she had spent the earlier part of the day walking around barefoot, so her feet were quite dirty, and she hadn't shaved in a while. But she got through it and we decided to go with a boot rather than a 3-week splint followed by a cast.

After a trip to the drugstore for crutches, Darvocet, and chocolate, we went to pick up the boys. (Our good friend Tina, whose child is in school with Aidan and Ian, had taken them home from school while we were at the doctor.) Then, I went out and took pictures of the hole—to post on this blog and as evidence for our upcoming discussions with the city's Parks department...

(Using a broom handle to measure the depth of the hole)

coupla things

2008-09-16T22:48:00.003-05:00

My head hurts.
Still.
It's full of cotton and weighs 1000 pounds.
My eyes are buzzing.
Someone squirted silly string all up in my nasal passages.
My ears need to pop.
My neck aches.
And my head hurts.
Still.
Thank you.
That's all.

oh, wait. No it's not. I have one more thing to whine about.

Biggest Loser Family premiered tonight.
I watched even though I had mixed emotions about it.
Desi and I poured our hearts into auditioning for this season, but then they went and made it a FAMILY show and we were disqualified. Hmmmph. As I watched the new teams, I kept thinking, "We coulda taken them." "We have more personality than they do!" "She's a wuss."

But what REALLY pissed me off?
Even though I've lost 60+ pounds since sending in our audition tape, I still outweigh a couple of the girls on the show.

I coulda been a contedah!

I've hit a major plateau. Been stuck on either side of 60 for a month now. Methinks I need Jillian to kick.my.BUTT. Kick it HARD!

back to the '80s

2008-09-15T10:56:00.011-05:00

I've been reliving the '80s lately, by reconnecting with old friends on Facebook. It's been a lot of fun to exchange messages, relive memories and share milestones.

But nothing took me back to the '80s like this did this morning:

It's '80s Day at Dani's school. Of course, she informed me of this last night at 10:15 when it was too late to get my hands on leg warmers and top-siders. Instead, we dug out some old pink foam rollers for her to sleep in, and I hacked up one of Darren t-shirts Irene-Cara-style. It's amazing how those radical 80's hair skills like, totally came back to me! With a hairdryer in one hand and a can of hairspray in the other, I majorly Molly Ringwalded Dani's hair. I only wish I'd had a can of Aqua Net on hand!

We pegged her jeans, plastered on the blue eye shadow and scrunched down her socks. What I wouldn't have given for some twister beads this morning. Dani cracked herself up when she caught her reflection in the mirror. "I can't believe y'all thought this was a good look! I can't believe I'm leaving the house in this."

It was like staring at my 17-year old self as I watched her drive off - so much so that I had to run upstairs and dig through old photos! Here's another one of me at 17:

The really funny thing is, Dani suffers from the same "I Was Born In The Wrong Decade" syndrome that I suffered from at her age. I always wished I'd been a teen/young adult in the late '60s/'70s. Dani does, too. Her room is covered in John Lennon posters - and check out her book bag:

I love that kid! She beats to her own funky drum, it's true, but that's one of the things I admire about her.

That, and she just texted me, saying, "I'm bringing you lunch today. What do you want?"

boys

2008-09-11T09:33:00.004-05:00

Twice yesterday, I was surprised by two little gifties left for me. The first one, at the bottom of the laundry basket, stealthily tucked beneath the last few socks, took several months off my life.

The second one was discovered last night, in the dark of my car, as I reached into my purse for my cell phone. You can't tell from the picture, but this nasty little dude is slimy and sticky and wiggly and gross. Aidan knows how much I love it. {insert curled lip here}

I have a couple of suspects in mind.

NSV = non-scale victories

2008-09-05T15:46:00.001-05:00

As you know, I gained back 6 pounds and only ended up losing an overall 2 pounds last month. I pinpointed my problem as emotional eating and avoidance of exercise because of those same emotions.

This week, I've strived to overcome that, and I've been pretty successful in both areas (eating and exercise). I still wasn't gung ho, though... I've just been faking it 'til I make it. Know what I mean?

Yesterday, I saw an older woman (my friend's Granny) whom I hadn't seen in several months. She asked if she'd ever met me. At first, my feelings were a little hurt because YES she's met me, many times! When I said, "Granny, I'm Stacy!", her mouth dropped open and she gasped, "You've lost so much WEIGHT! Cara told me you'd lost weight, but you don't even LOOK the same."

Then last night, an old high school friend reconnected with me on Facebook, and said, "You look exactly the same as you did in high school. Not a day over 20!" I'm 39, and it's a recent picture.

Today, I feel GUNG HO AGAIN! I needed those NSVs!

ribbon storage... and the BOOK!

2008-09-02T10:01:00.008-05:00

Last spring, I saw an idea that I loved and couldn't wait to implement. In my scraproom, I had a big drawer full of random ribbon, all mumble-jumble. Most everything else I use is out and visible - otherwise, I just don't use it, and that's been true of my ribbon.

Last week, I finally got around to hanging it up! It's not the same as Donna'a exactly, but it works and I'm happy with it! I haven't decided exactly where to hang it yet....

And this is late in coming...

you might remember this post? Here's the published copy. WooHoo!

Here's the layout up close.

Happy Tuesday!

Month 5 Weigh-In

2008-09-01T10:30:00.005-05:00

It was bound to happen sometime, and sometime is now.

I only lost 2 pounds the entire month of August.

Well, that's not entirely true.

The TRUTH is, I lost 8. Then I gained back 6 in the last two weeks.

Not good.

I've identified the problems:

1. I did some emotional eating. I knew I was doing it, but didn't seem to care .THAT's not good, and not normal for me, either.

2. I didn't eat during the day.

3. I ate empty calories and junk at night.

4. I overate empty calories and junk at night.

5. I didn't exercise.

But today is a new month.

A new slate.

A new day.

A new beginning.

I'm back on track, and I resolve to invite God to be the center of this again. (In fact, I've already done so.) It's obvious that I can't do it by myself, isn't it? But with Him, it's possible; He's proven that to me so many times!

I have a great support system in place that I've also neglected to lean on recently. When I finally returned and told them of my weight gain, I got so many words of wisdom and advice. A few that really hit home:

I say jump back in - today's a new day. Look for a big loss next week as you shock your body back into it's new routine! (thanks Shannon!)

Remember this is a lifelong journey you're on.... revisit your goals and your dreams and commit to making this week a good one. (Thanks Jayne!)

You have done so much already a little set back is okay as long as you don't let it knock you off your horse for good. (Thanks Les!)

I can so sympathize. Just went things are humming along, something derails you and you lose momentum. The most important thing is that you don't give up. I've done that before too...and it feels just awful. Get back into it right away. Here's a (((hug))) for good measure. I'm still here cheering you on! (Thanks Carrie!)

Just get back on that train and go forward. You can do it.... (Thanks Jat!)

It is okay. Remember this is a lifetime journey and about long term changes. Little ups and downs should be expected. You are doing GREAT!!!!! (Thanks Joanie!)

You are a shining example of God's love and light and with Him - you can do anything! We're human. We make choices - some of them are better for us than others, but sometimes, for me, he lets me stumble in order to remind me to lean on Him. (Karin, you're so right. Thanks!)

Stace. Can you imagine a year ago, thinking that losing 6 pounds in a month would be a BAD month? (said before the month was over, but still... I love you Ginger.)

Look how much you HAVE lost! Even with a little gain.. you've still lost a lot!! Get back in there and back on track. It can be done.. you've already proven it! (Thanks Ginger!)

I'm glad to see you come here for encouragement and then keep on keeping on...I want to be more like you when I grow up. (Aww Alli. ((((hugs))))

And the one that spoke the loudest to me, James 1:4: Let perseverance finish its work, so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (Thanks, Nina!)

Here I am Friday night, holding the amount I've lost to date: 57 pounds. :)

I smelled a squirrel because I'm sexy and I do what I want.

2008-08-28T19:39:00.002-05:00

Darren danced with a football player because the voices told him to.
Dani did the Macarena with a noodle because she thinks she needs some serious help.
Aidan ran over his dog because he's cool like that.
Ian yelled at a surfer because HE'S cool like that.

So. What did YOU do?

Pick the month you were born:
January----- --I kicked
February---- --I loved
March------- --I karate chopped
April------- ----I licked
May--------- --I jumped on
June-------- --I smelled
July-------- ---I did the Macarena with
August------ --I had lunch with
September--I danced with
October----- -I sang to
November---I yelled at
December---I ran over

Now pick the day (number) you were born on:
1-------a birdbath
2-------a monster
3-------a phone
4-------a fork
5-------a snowman
6-------a gangster
7-------my mobile phone
8-------my dog
9-------my best friends' boyfriend
10------my neighbor
11------my science teacher
12------a banana
13------a fireman
14------a stuffed animal
15------a goat
16------a pickle
17------your mom
18------a spoon
19------a smurf
20------a baseball bat
21------a ninja
22------Chuck Norris
23------a noodle
24------a squirrel
25------a football player
26------my sister
27------my brother
28------an ipod
29------a surfer
30------a llama
31------A homeless guy

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:
White---------because I'm cool like that
Black---------because that's how I roll.
Pink----------because I'm crazy.
Red----------because the voices told me to
Blue----------because I'm sexy and I do what I want
Green--------because I think I need some serious help.
Purple--------because I'm AWESOME!Gray----------because Big Bird said to and he's my leader.
Yellow--------because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange-------because my family thinks I'm nuts anyway.
Brown---------because I can.
Other----------because I'm a Ninja!
None----------because I can't control myself!

the cat needs love

2008-08-27T08:45:00.005-05:00

I wish I knew how to do animation. If I did, I'd YouTube a video of our pathetic cat bustin' out with her best LL Cool J impersonation.

When I'm alone in my room sometimes I stare at the wall
And in the back of my mind I hear my conscience call
Telling me I need a girl who's as sweet as a dove
For the first time in my life, I see I need love
I need luuuuuuv.

She's lonely, the cat.

I know she is because she knocks on Dani's door all the time.

No, it's true. She knocks. (Remember, this is the cat who uses her paws to turn the glass knob on the family room door when she wants out.) When she wants Dani (who's teenage room is ALWAYS closed when she's not home, to keep out snoopy brothers and shedding cats), she stands on her back feet and knocks with her front feet. Pat pat pat pat pat, in quick succession, one paw after the other. When it first happened the other morning (or at least, the first time any of us noticed), Dani happened to be inside. She heard someone rapping on her door, and thinking it was Ian, growled in an animated way, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

There was no answer.

So she threw open the door, thinking she'd spook him a little and was disappointed that he wasn't there. Looking down, she saw the cat gazing up with longing in her eyes.

"WHAT THE!" Dani exclaimed. "Ashlie just knocked on my door!"

Both boys came running from their room to see for themselves. I don't think they believed 100%, but they giggled just thinking about it.

The next day, they witnessed it for themselves, and Ian literally fell on the floor laughing. This is how we know for sure that the cat knocks. I, however, still hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

Flash forward to this morning.

I'm sitting here at the computer, minding my own business and not paying one lick of attention to the cat, with whom I'm still cranky for dropping a load on the hardwood in the entryway yesterday, when she sidled up beside my leg and started meowing.

It wasn't a loud meow.

It wasn't a quick, punctuated mew; that's the one that says "I'm out of food, you stupid slag heap."

It wasn't a drawn-out longing mrrrrowwwwl, the one that wants to burst through the window and claim the squirrel on the other side as her slave.

This meow was different, somehow. It was kinda sad.

Even so, she's the cat, and on principle, I don't like her. So I ignored her. I'd already filled her water bowl this morning, so if she had a problem, it would have to wait until 3:00 when the kids return.

Soon enough, she gave up the meowing, walked around to the back of my desk chair, where my still-too-ample-butt is hanging off the back, and started knocking.

Yes. The cat knocked on my butt in the same exact way the kids described her knocking on Dani's door. I looked over my shoulder at her and said, "What's up, Cat? You need some love?"

At that, she rolled her head over in that weird cat way and waited to be scratched under the chin. And I, in a moment of weakness, felt sorry for her hairball-yacking self and gave her some love.

half-marathoner

2008-08-27T00:23:00.002-05:00

Last winter, a few months after Darren started running (for fun - what a weirdo!), I quipped that we should plan a Disney vacation for January '09, so that he could run the half-marathon there. He laughed heartily, saying that he'd never be a marathoner, or even a half-marathoner.

Well. For the past few weeks, the man has been running 9 miles at a time. Of course, he's wiped for the rest of the day, and usually pretty sore the next day, but still. NINE MILES.

Tonight, we went walking through one of the parks he screams through on his runs. It's a beautiful park, tucked deep into a neighborhood in the heart of Fort Worth. If you're not a runner or a cyclist, or if you don't live in that neighborhood, you'd never know it's there. It follows a creek and meanders through oaks and pecans, over wooden bridges, past benches marked with remembrance plaques of loved ones lost. It was a beautiful walk, and he enjoyed taking it at a slower pace than usual.

We drove the rest of his route, through one gorgeous neighborhood and into the next, up the long hill to the top of the bluff, around Colonial, past the zoo, and back home to our neighborhood. It took forever to drive it. He runs it. It makes me hot just thinking about it. ;)

I think he could handle a half-marathon in 6 more months, don't you?

Taking donations now for our trip to Disney World.
ha.

One last time

2008-08-25T10:37:00.001-05:00

School started today.

Ian's in 1st, Aidan's in 2nd, and Dani's a Senior.

The boys were bouncing-off-the-walls excited about school starting back up. Last night, Ian even had a stomach ache and couldn't sleep. They bounced out of bed this morning and giggled, laughed and wrestled through breakfast, teeth-brushing and getting ready. This year, no tears. No apprehension. No worries.

I'm sitting here enjoying the quiet stillness of an empty house. I have a hot date with the bug man in a couple of hours, a load of laundry to fold, some dishes to wash. Life is just busting at the seams around here. I'm also looking forward to carrying on a tradition later this afternoon.

When Dani started Kindergarten, a brand new Cracker Barrel had just opened near us, and I promised her an after school treat there on her first day of school. We’ve kept the tradition of going to Cracker Barrel on the first day of school ever since - even after moving across town from that neighborhood four years ago.

Also, on her first day of Kindergarten, she wore her hair in braided pigtails.

On her first day of high school? Braided pigtails.

Today, on the first day of her senior year, she asked me to braid some pigtails.

After school, we’ll drive across town to have dessert at Cracker Barrel ...one last time.

Olympics in review

2008-08-22T22:46:00.004-05:00

We've spent more time in front of the TV in the last two weeks than we have in the last year. No exaggeration. Every night after dinner, we tuned in to NBC and watched Olympic coverage, and then many nights, Darren and laid in bed and watched the late night coverage until our eyelids grew heavy and we couldn't focus any longer. We didn't miss a single Phelps race. We watched with interest as our local gymnast Nastia Liukin took gold. The boys were especially excited about the Olympics, this being the first one they've been old enough to take notice of.

Just before the games began, we read "An Hour at the Olympics" - a Magic Treehouse story about the first Olympics in Athens. We were reading a chapter each night before bed, but one night, Ian couldn't resist and read 6 chapters in a row out loud to me. to finish the book.

As we watched the opening ceremonies, he said, "Wait a minute. This is in CHINA?"

Darren answered in the affirmative.

"Ah MAN," said Ian. "I was gonna ask you to take me there!"

"There", meaning "the opening ceremonies". He wanted to be there in person, and just assumed we could hop in the car and go. Even now that the games are over, that night remains his favorite of the whole 2008 games. His most favorite part was the guy running in mid-air to light the flame.

Aidan loved Track and Field the most. He couldn't narrow it down to one event - he loved the sprints, the relays, the discus, the jumping, EVERYthing. He thinks he can be an Olympian one day.

Dani 's favorite was the swimming - specifically, rooting for Michael Phelps. One night while I watched upstairs, I heard her down here jumping and screaming and going crazy, then she yelled, "MOM!! ARE YOU WATCHING THIS? YOU BETTER BE WATCHING THIS!"

I love the swimming. Always have. Diving didn't do much for me this year, for some reason. I still remember Greg Louganis hitting his head on the platform back in '88 like it was yesterday. I just googled it and showed the footage to Dani. She gasped, just like I (and the world) did all those years ago.

Also this year, aside from Nastia, I was disinterested in gymnastics, which for years was my absolute FAVORITE. Anyone remember this ad featuring Mitch Gaylord? I tore it out of my Rolling Stone magazine back in '84, framed it, and gave it a place of honor in my bedroom for years. (Dani just quipped, "Your parents let you have that poster? Wow." lol!)

But my favorite this year, hands down, was beach volleyball. I don't know why, exactly, except that I played a lot in college, and while I was far from exceptional, I have really great memories of all those Sunday night games. Someone asked the other day which event I'd like to medal in if I could choose one. Me? Beach volleyball - one, because it would be a BLAST, even (or especially) playing in the pouring rain, and two, because it would mean I had a hot enough body to be wearing the official "uniform".

Darren watched an awful lot of volleyball this year too, and says it was his favorite event. But to his credit, he watched just as much men's and team volleyball as he did the beach variety. ;)

It was fun watching and rooting and discussing Olympics coverage as a family. I can hardly wait for 2010 - I love winter events more than the summer ones!

bloated and gross

2008-08-21T22:40:00.004-05:00

This morning, I woke up bloated and with a familiar nagging cramp in my belly. I felt gross and fat all day.

Tonight was Meet the Teacher night at school, and I made myself get all gussied up, knowing that I'd be seeing school-mom friends, some of whom hadn't laid eyes on me since May. I must admit, I was looking forward to the accolades.

But not a single person mentioned my weight loss. (Tina, bless her sweet heart, DID say "You look wonderful", but I'm not counting her, 'cause she's seen me off and on all summer.) Others have told me that I look like a different person, so I find it hard to believe that people who haven't seen me in so long didn't notice at all.

Just a few minutes ago, another friend who's losing weight mentioned the same wonder. "Why don't people notice? I keep thinking people will say something!" And another friend said, "Weight loss is a sensitive subject. People who don't know us well will hesitate to say anything, because it could be misconstrued as a backwards insult." As in... telling someone they look they've lost weight could be misinterpreted as, "Are you saying I NEED to lose weight?" It's just the way women are, so other women tend to tread lightly around sensitive subjects. I understand that, and I'm glad my friend pointed it out.

Thinking about tonight at school, I did notice one mom give me the up-and-down once-over on her way to hug me. And the other moms? I'm sure they noticed, too, but wondered if they should say anything or not. I like to imagine that as they watched me walk away, their conversation went a little something like this:

"Look at her butt!"
"I know. It's TINY"!
"She must have lost 4 cup sizes."
"It's taken 10 years off her."
"I wonder how much she's lost?"
"How's she doing it?"
"Who's gonna ask her on Monday?"

LOL! My butt's not tiny.
Yet.
A girl can dream.

oh - and Darren reminded me that even all Bloated and Gross (that would be a cool name for a girl band. Or... not.), my newest skinny pants still fit comfortably. True, that. Thanks honey!

Top Ten Reasons I Want to Reach and Maintain....

2008-08-18T23:11:00.004-05:00

(click to enlarge)

My sweet new friend Diane W. gave me this idea, and totally inspired me to do it. This list, which I created while chatting with her, is taped to walls and dashboards, here and there, some complete lists, and some bits and pieces of the list... tucked into my mirror, in my wallet, on the speedometer, on the fridge, in the book I'm currently reading.... gracing my fridge, my vanity, my computer monitor, the window above the kitchen sink. It helps to see those reasons everywhere I turn. I'm almost halfway to my goal. No turning back, no turning back!

tutorials for Mom and Aunt Sis

2008-08-18T12:22:00.004-05:00

To save my blog to your favorites:
Assuming you're using Internet Explorer, which you probably are, you should see a yellow star near the top left of your screen. Next to that, you should see a yellow star with a green plus sign on it. The yellow star will open your "Favorites". The green plus sign will let you add a site to your Favorites. Click the green plus sign, then click "Add to Favorites". That's it! It'll add whatever site you're currently sitting on. From now on, to find the site you just bookmarked, all you have to do is click the yellow star, and it'll bring up a list of all the links you've created.

If you don't see the green plus sign and the yellow star, there's another way. At the very top of your screen, just below the navigation bar (where you type in the web address you want to visit), you'll see "file", "edit", "view", "favorites", "tools", and "help". Click on "favorites", and then click "add to favorites". Easy peasy!

To comment on my blog:
At the end of every blog post, you'll see "posted by Stacy K at whatever time." Right after that, you'll see "6 comments", or however many there happen to be. Click on that link. (You can tell it's a link because it's a different color, and your cursor turns into a pointing hand when you roll over it.)

The link will take you to a page that lets you read all previous comments, and also leave your own. You don't need to have an account to leave a comment here. Just click "anonymous" after you type your message. But make sure you sign your name so I'll know who the anonymous comment is from! :)

I hope this helps.
I tried not to speak in too foreign of a language.
Now... COMMENT so I'll know it made sense to you. :0
Love you!

bedroom retreat

2008-08-15T14:06:00.009-05:00

While Darren and Dani toured colleges for a week, I got down to the dirty task of renovating our bedroom.

Originally, my plan was just to clean and declutter it. For 4 years, it's been the catch-all for junk that has no where else to go, and there was junk piled here, there and everywhere; we both hated being in there. I'd never even decorated it, though I'd been collecting a bunch of stuff over the years for that purpose. Here it is, before:

Darren is working from home more than ever now, and he struggles to find a spot that's quiet and peaceful - a place where he can concentrate. That was my main motivation for redoing our bedroom - to create that space for him.

It took me 2 days to sort, trash, box, store and otherwise dejunk the room. While doing that, I decided that the room HAD to be painted. It's the only room I haven't put my touch on since we bought the house, and it was time. I'd always envisioned a blue room - a soothing, calming, dusky blue. But that was for me. With Darren in mind, I decided to go with something he'd like better, and ended up choosing a golden honey color. I already had sheets, a rug, and a few other items in that color (I always thought it'd be the accent color to my blue). Then I decided to add stripes. I bought paint in two close shades - in fact, they were side by side on the paint chip. First, I painted the whole room the lighter color, and then Cara helped me measure and tape off 10-inch stripes, which we painted the darker color. The curtains are simply panels of fabric that I haven't sewn yet, and the chair was a serendipitous find. I wasn't even chair shopping when I discovered this at the fabric store - marked down from $550 to $190. I couldn't resist it! Well, I DID resist it for a day, but I went right back and got it the next afternoon. :)

(Click photos to enlarge)

I've painted more quotes on more walls in more buildings than I care to remember. This time, I cheated and used a computerized die cut machine to cut the letters out of self-adhesive vinyl. :)

This is the view from our bed. We have bookcases all over the house, but our room houses the books that are most special to us for whatever reason. Before the redo, this case was jam-packed with books. I made myself cull and purge, and then added trinkets - from here and there in forgotten corners and random cubby holes - that are special to Darren. The blue geode is from Pitkin, Colorado, where we've spent our past two summer vacations. The cross is made of peat, and came from our Ireland trip. The brass globe was a gift that my brother David gave Darren for Christmas when we were newly married. It has a secret compartment inside it, and David spent hours cleaning and shining it to like-new condition after finding it in a junk store. Darren has always loved it. The toile boxes are my "happy files" and contain letters, cards and notes from years past. The case on top houses Darren's clarinet, which he pulls out and plays every once in a while. I organized all of his sheet music and it's now stored in the ottoman by his chair.

We love our room. We spend HOURS in there now. I love to sit in the chair and read next to the window. Darren's sitting there working right now. I make the bed every day (ME!!) and keep the room pristine. It's a retreat within our own house. The kids know it's special, and think it's kinda cool that they're no longer allowed to bring toys in there, or sit on our bed, or sit in the chair, EVER, unless it's in one of our laps.

oh - and one more photo, especially for my neice Brittani. She gave this Eiffel Tower print to me for Christmas a few years ago, to commemorate Darren and my trip to Paris in 2002. I finally hung it! It makes me happy to think of Brit and then Paris first thing every morning. :)

It was a ton of work, but it's been GLORIOUS to have a space that's all our own. I did it for Darren, but I'm reaping the benefits as much as he is. :)

Weddings

2008-08-13T13:29:00.005-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of photographing our neice Shaina's wedding. Our whole family got dressed up (something we rarely do all at the same time, because we're not fancy dressers without reason, and we never have reason. Our church is very laid back and casual, for instance.) ANYway, since we all looked nice, I set the camera up and handed it over to to nephew-in-law to snap a pic of us.

This past weekend, Darren, Dani and I attended the wedding of our good friend Luke and his beautiful bride, Lacie. It was such a lovely wedding, and I even convinced Darren (DARREN!) to dance with me. He grinned all the way through The Chicken Dance (and tried to claim it wasn't any fun later), and then we danced to Rod Stewart's "Have I Told You Lately". I bought a new dress for the occasion several weeks ago, and although it fit at the time, it was a little snug on my tummy. I hit a plateau and didn't lose a pound for the past 2+ weeks, so I was nervous about putting the dress on again. I was surprised and ecstatic when it fell over my stomach without clinging! I think it's cool how, when I'm not losing pounds, I'm often losing inches in their place. :)

See all those bruises on my calves? Yah. There are more all over my torso, the backs of my arms, and my thighs. And my feet. The bottom of my right foot looked like a chicken breast that someone had taken a meat mallet to, and it also featured two puncture wounds. Why, you ask? 'Cause I'm a klutz, and fell off the tall stool I was using when painting our bedroom. More on that later. :)

the program

2008-08-11T14:11:00.003-05:00

I know you are probably bombarded with PMs and emails wanting to know just
how YOU do it. Well, add me to the list. Can you give me a run down of what you
are doing to make these amazing changes? I know you are a busy gal...I mean come on, you're busy shedding those pounds!! But I would really appreciate your help. Any advice is greatly appreciated. ~Lisa

Finally, I'm blogging about my program. Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to it!

EXERCISE

Walking. I started in March by walking 1 mile each day, three days per a week. At the time, it's all I could do! After a while, I increased my mileage and my speed, walking a longer distance in the same amount of time.

Nia. Two weeks after I began my weight loss journey, I joined a Nia class, which is a combination of dance, yoga and martial arts. It's SO MUCH FUN, it doesn't even feel like exercise. I've missed it so much this summer, and can't wait for school to start back up so I can dive back in to my Nia routine. I do it for 50 minutes each Tues/Thurs morning. I know it gives me a good cardio workout, but it's also been fabulous for toning and building muscle. I've never had visible arm muscles, but now I do, and all I can contribute it to is the martial arts part of Nia. I don't use weights or anything else.

Moving. Other than walking and Nia, I've just added small things here and there, like parking out in the lot and walking up to the store rather than circling and circling for the closest parking spot. I don't save all of my upstairs errands to do at once anymore. Now, when I need something upstairs, I just go. In May at the boys' school, I had to take photographs of about 40 individual kids, who were in classrooms all over the building. As I worked through the list, I made myself go up and down the stairs over and over. In the old days, I'd have mapped it out ahead of time to make sure I didn't have to climb the stairs more than necessary! At camp this summer, I had to climb a hill each time I went down to the swimming hole. I could've driven, but each time, I made myself walk. The first day killed me. By the end of the week, I was climbing while carrying on a conversation, and suddenly found myself at the top of the hill. I hadn't even realized I was climbing!! Since I work at home, I'd gotten in the habit of not getting up out of my desk chair for most of the day. Now, I make myself get up about once an hour and get some activity in - I walk down the block and back, water my plants, dance through a song, whatever. It keeps my metabolism going strong, which means I can burn calories easier, even just sitting at my desk.

EATING

Calories. As for eating, I've made some major changes there as well. I eat between 1500-1600 calories a day. I actually hired a nutritionist to help me with that for the first three weeks, because counting calories totally overwhelmed me. She planned my menus, gave me recipes, made my grocery lists, etc. I could only afford her for 3 weeks, but by then, I felt completely comfortable doing it myself. Googling "1500 calorie menus" is a great place to start, too. Another wonderful took is http://www.sparkpeople.com/. There, you can log what you've eaten and it'll track your calories for you. If you don't know the calorie count of something - say, a casserole - you can add the recipe and it will calculate the calories. The site is also full of articles, tips and support to guide you and encourage you on your journey to health.

Omissions. I cut out processed foods entirely. Basically, if it comes in a box, I don't eat it. I cut out dairy for the most part. I still eat eggs and cheese occasionally, but in strict moderation. I quit my daily Route 44 Sonic Diet Coke with Vanilla habit cold turkey. For a month, I challenged myself to only drink water. After that month, I started adding unsweet tea to the mix. I don't use fake sugar, ever, even though it would mean getting to eat yummy-tasting things and still staying under my calorie limit. My goal: the most nutrional bang for each calorie buck. You'd be amazed at how many empty calories you consume!

Eat more! I eat breakfast every morning, which was a HUGE change for me. I've never been a breakfast eater. Then I eat 5 more times throughout the day: a mid-morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, late-afternoon snack, and dinner around 7:30. I never eat or snack after dinner. That alone was a huge change for me, because I'd gotten in a habit of not eating all day, and then way overeating in the evening. I snack on fresh fruit and veggies, dried fruit, almond butter, walnuts and pecans, and hummus. I try to keep my snacks packed in snack baggies, so I can grab one without having to think about it. I also carry them with me when I leave the house, to ward off temptation to snack on something unhealthy, and to keep my metabolism going. One thing I've learned is that you have to eat to lose!

Water Water Water. I keep a pitcher of cold water in my fridge at all times. I drink it all day long. I've gotten in the habit of taking a cup of iced water with me whenever I get in the car; it keeps me from wanting to stop and get a Coke somewhere.

This program is working for me, but it's imperative that you find what works for YOU. Good luck, Lisa et al!

tagged: Spouse

2008-08-08T16:48:00.006-05:00

Desiree tagged me on her blog, so here goes!

What is his name?
Darren

How long have you been married?

17 years

How long did you date?

We never dated. We went from being best friends to talking about marriage to getting married to having Dani!

How old is he?

39 next month

Who eats more?

Hmmm. Probably him, but that certainly hasn't always been the case!

Who said I love you first?

He did. I was in Seattle, he was in Denton. When he said it, I was so amazed and overjoyed and shocked beyond belief that I said, "OK, BYE!" and hung up the phone. Then I burst into tears. LOL!

Who is taller?

He is, by 3 inches

Who sings better?

He sings better bass, and I sing better lead. :)

Who's temper is worse?

Mine flashes hotter, but his is triggered faster.

Who does the laundry?

I do

Who pays the bills?

He does.

Who cooks dinner?

We take turns. It's about 60% me these days, but not so long ago, it was 75% him!

Who mows the lawn?

He does

Who wears the pants in the family?

I let him think he does. But seriously, we both make decisions together and always listen to each other.

OK, so I need to tag someone ... Joe, Elaine, and Bobbie, you're it!

I miss Darren and Dani

2008-08-04T14:25:00.003-05:00

...and apparently, I've compensated by falling off the wagon.
Last week, I indulged in 2 cheeseburgers, an order of onion rings, an ice cream cone, 2 large snow cones, and 2 dark chocolate Dove bars. I gained a 10th of a pound. That's not a big gain, I know. It's not even worth mentioning. But it makes me cranky to realize that I'd have LOST weight if I'd stayed true to my program. Grrr.

I've gotten some emails asking what my program IS, exactly. I'll elaborate soon.

Darren and Dani return home tomorrow night. They've had a great time so far. They both loved U of Chicago and think it's a perfect fit for Dani. Tomorrow, they have several appointments/interviews at Drew U in New Jersey. This morning, they woke up in D.C.; Darren's been keeping up with his running schedule and had a great run this morning from his hotel, past the Capitol, down the National Mall, around the Lincoln Memorial, past the White House, and back. In 55 minutes, he ran past some of the most famous landmarks in the U.S.!

I've kept very busy around here, in between calorie splurges. I totally upended my house and shook out most of the dust and clutter. I've done some fun, creative stuff, too. Last night, I hosted my Fortress church family. The house was PACKED with people, the air conditioner was blasting, we had two oscillating fans blowing, and STILL we couldn't cool the house down enough. It was 107 degrees outside, the heat index was 114, we were packed like sardines in my family room and kitchen, but even so..... good times. Good times.

But I still miss Darren and Dani. :)

college bound

2008-08-01T00:49:00.003-05:00

Darren and Dani have been ridin' the rails. They departed Fort Worth on Amtrak's Texas Eagle late yesterday afternoon and arrived in Chicago early this evening. They've both decided that train travel is the only way to go. Darren can't wait to take me on a long train trip now. We've taken Amtrak before - between here an Oklahoma City - but it wasn't exciting enough to write home about. The longer routes have better accomodations, apparently. They enjoyed the lounge car, the observation deck and, of course, the dining car. If Darren ever DOES take me on a train trip, I'm gonna insist on a sleeping car, too. :D

They visit the University of Chicago tomorrow, and then Saturday,they board another train and head to Washington D.C. for a day of site-seeing. Then late Sunday evening, they'll board one more time and head for New Jersey, where they'll spend Monday keeping appointments with Drew University. They'll fly home Tuesday night.

A neighbor tonight mentioned that no one in our day ever thought about doing college visits, and what a cool idea it is. The thing is, colleges are so competitive these days, and scholarships are even more so, that a face-to-face meeting often gives you an edge. In fact, some colleges are requiring an in-person interview as part of the admissions process. Lucky for us, Dani found out about an excellent deal: if you're travelling on Amtrak for the purpose of college visits, one parent gets to ride free. Otherwise, I don't know that we could've made this trip happen!

Before they left, I told Darren that I really hoped they'd not only have fun, but also spend some time talking about serious stuff. They have, in fact, spent a lot of time talking, and Darren said it's been really, really good for both of them to connect that way. That makes me heart happy. It also made my heart sing when he told me that they got to laughing so hard on the train that he couldn't breathe. Evidently, they were imagining Aidan being in the circus. I guess you had to be there!

But I'm not, and I miss them both.
This time next year, I'll be making the trip somewhere with Dani- college-bound once more - only THAT time, she won't be coming back home. That's hard to imagine. I'm not going to think about it yet.

questions I stole from Carrie's blog

2008-07-30T12:03:00.003-05:00

I give you money and send you into the grocery store to pick up 5 items. You can only pick one thing from the following departments. What do you buy?

1. Produce: red seedless grapes
2. Bakery: frosted sugar cookies for the kids
3. Meat: salmon
4. Frozen: whole wheat waffles
5. Dry goods: walnuts

Let's say we are heading out for a warm weekend getaway. You're only allowed to bring 3 articles of clothing with you. So, what's in your bag?

1. mu cut-off capri jeans
2. clean underwear
3. the white blouse I wore in the previous post

If I was to listen in on your conversations throughout the day, what 4 phrases or words would I be most likely to hear?

1. Close the door!
2. Stop using your cartoon voice, Aidan.
3. Hello. (My phone rings incessantly)
4. The Wii is TOO LOUD.

So, what 4 things do you find yourself doing every single day, and if you didn't get to do, you probably wouldn't be in the best mood?

1. Check my e-mail
2. guzzle ice water
3. talk to Darren
4. sleep under a ceiling fan

You're driving down the road, and suddenly you're hit with this sense of road rage. What 3 factors probably contributed to it?

1. Someone drifting into my lane and not realizing it 'cause they're on the phone or applying makeup or reading the paper
2. someone turns right in front of me, making me jam my brakes
3. someone flies up on my tail and sits there, even though they COULD easily go around me

Sweet! You just scored a whole afternoon to yourself. We're talking a 3 hour block with nobody around. What 5 activities might we find you doing?

1. checking email/surfing the net
2. having lunch with a friend
3. getting a pedicure
4. sleeping
5. reading

We're going to the zoo. But, it looks like it could start storming, so it will have to be a quick visit. What 3 exhibits do we have to get to?

1. lions
2. coyotes (the boys LOVE the coyotes in the Texas Wild section)
3. penguins (for Dani)

You just scored tickets to the taping of any show that comes on TV. You can pick between 4, so what are you deciding between?

1. The Ellen DeGeneres Show
2. Saturday Night Live
3. The Late Show with David Letterman
4. Oprah

You're hungry for ice cream. I'll give you a triple dipper ice cream cone. What 3 flavors can I pile on for ya?

1. Tin Roof Sundae
2. Chunky Mocha something
3. Vanilla Bean

Somebody stole your purse/wallet…in order to get it back, you have to name 5 things you know are inside to claim it. So, what's in there?

1. scrapbooking receipts
2. business cards
3. driver's license
4. zoo membership card
5. Costco card

You are at a job fair, and asked in what areas you are interested in pursuing a career. Lets pretend you have every talent and ability to be whatever you wanted, so what 4 careers would be fun for you?

1. creative director for a magazine
2. writer
3. event planner
4. creative escape retreat center owner/operator

Weigh-in: Month 4

2008-07-30T02:13:00.005-05:00

Ladies and gentlemen, this is 7 gallons of milk.

It's fortified. With vitamins. It's pasteurized. I love it! It's ho...mo....gonized. Oh I love my milk!

(Sorry. It's just that random songs from my past pop into my head ALL the time. If I always bothered to tell you about the songs in my head, you'd be scared of me - so I don't.)

Yesiree. Seven gallons of milk, at roughly 8 pounds per gallon... well, you do the math. 56 pounds of milk, equal to the 55 pounds I've lost, plus the one pound I shed trying to finagle 7 gallon jugs into my hands.

Speaking of finagling....

I was standing there, minding my own business, smiling pretty for the camera, when that rogue jug in my left hand - the one on top - started trying to escape. The problem was, I had that one hooked on my thumb, and if you've ever seen my hands, you know that I have stubby thumbs. It's one of the reasons I could never master anything other than the G chord on guitar. When it started slipping, I hollared, "Help! Slipping, slipping!". Dani, in a flash of brilliance, ran the other way.

She was getting the grocery cart, which was a few feet behind her, but I didn't know that. So I yelled louder, "HEY!! HELP ME!" All of a sudden, BOOM! The jug hit the concrete floor with a splat, splitting wide open and gurgling vitamin D all over the place. In that same nanosecond, a man came running from behind and took the jug tucked under my right arm. Turns out, Dani snapped a picture of him moments before. Look closely, and you'll see him. I thanked the guy, but he looked at me like I was a loony tune and continued on his way.

It was then that I really thought about it. What must people have thought, walking past while a crazy woman off her rocker enough to wear orange pants struggled to juggle 7 gallons of milk, when her grocery cart is a mere 5 feet away? And then, what kind of weirdo poses for a PHOTO with those 7 jugs of milk??

A woman who's lost 55 pounds, that's who.
And fifty-five pounds, my friends... WORD TO THE MOMMAS. That's a lot of spilled milk!

He's got a mouth, that one.

2008-07-29T20:10:00.005-05:00

I sent Ian to bed, after having let him stay up extra late to finish a movie. Thirty seconds later, I ascended the stairs to retrieve some clothes hangers, and from the shadows of his bedroom, I heard him say, "Mom. I can't fall asleep."

"You just got in bed, you nutcase. Give it some time."
"But I get scared."

At this, I stopped and backed up, standing in his doorway.

"What do you mean you get scared? You've never been scared before."
(Ian, in fact, is the one who has always insisted on his room being completely dark at night.)

"I just keep thinking about bad things. Every night, they just pop in my head, and I can't get 'em out."
"Scary things?"
"No. Not really scary, just bad things."

"Ahh. That used to happen to Dani when she was your age. You know what worked for her?"
"What?"
"Prayer."
"Praying never works for me. I've tried it before, and it doesn't work."

By this time, I'd made my way to his bedside, and I sat down on the edge of it and rubbed his back.

"Aw, Ian. Yes it does! Why don't you believe in prayer?"

"I dunno."

"Do you believe in God?"

Ian sat up and snarled his lip at me. "That was a dumb question to ask. Of course the answer is yes."

I caught myself before I full out laughed, but not before I let a giggle escape. We prayed, and then I went downstairs to tell Darren how proud I was of our youngest kid for having the guts to tell me I'd asked a dumb question. Truly, I offended him! "He's bold," I bragged. "I love that about him. He's SO not afraid to tell me like it is."

The next morning, after mounting frustration at him for not being able to find his shoes (AGAIN), which he had only taken off 12 hours before, I snapped. I yelled, "If you'd take care of your THINGS, then they wouldn't get LOST all the time! You don't take care of ANYthing!!!!"

He wrinkled his nose, furrowed his brow, tucked his chin, glared at me out the top of his eyes, and yelled right back: "Well if YOU weren't so MEAN, maybe I WOULD take care of my stuff!!"

"Come here for your spanking," I said. "You don't get to talk to me like that."

He came. I swatted his butt once with my hand.

I found his shoes, and as he put them on, I called Darren at work. "You know how last night I was so proud of Ian for telling me what he really thought? Well, I'm over it."

It's a fine line, you know, between knowing when it's okay to tell your Mom what you really think and sensing when to keep your trap shut. I hope he learns sooner than later!

I've come to realize....

2008-07-23T13:43:00.002-05:00

1. I've come to realize that my boobs aren't as grotesquely huge as they used to be - but they're still obsene.

2. I've come to realize that my job is important to our family's budget and it's time I started treating it as such.

3. I've come to realize that when I'm driving, I can stick my foot up against the rear view mirror like I used to do in college. :)

4. I've come to realize that I need a daily balance of exercise - both physical and spiritual - to feel alive and free.

5. I've come to realize that I have lost a lot more baggage than this mere ~50 pounds represents.

6. I've come to realize that I hate it when I sleep too long.

7. I've come to realize that if I'm drunk... wait a minute. It's been so many years since I've been drunk, I can't even remember it!

8. I've come to realize that money buys things that make people look happy, but money can't buy happiness.

9. I've come to realize that certain people hide in the bottom of the boat while others dare to walk on water - but none of us are better than the other.

10. I've come to realize that I'll always be cherished by the one who matters most.

12. I've come to realize that my mom has never felt the freedom of true forgiveness.

13. I've come to realize my cell phone needs a ring tone that doesn't annoy Darren so much. (Oh, but I LOVE "Brick House"!)

14. I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning, my body felt more sore and weary than it did last night when I fell into bed. We need a new mattress!

15. I've come to realize that last night before I went to sleep, I loved Darren truly, madly, deeply - forever, for always, and no matter what.

16. I've come to realize that right now I am thinking about how the simplest words from those who love me can be so powerfully healing.

17. I've come to realize that my dad loves deeply, completely and selflessly.

18. I've come to realize that when I get on the computer, I can be self-disciplined about how much time I let it absorb.

19. I've come to realize that today marks 17 years since I gave birth to the baby who would eventually own my heart and teach me everything under the sun about betrayal and forgiveness and truth in love.

20. I've come to realize that tonight and every night, my call is to give myself to my family and their needs and wishes - and in doing so, fulfill my own needs and wishes.

21. I've come to realize that tomorrow I will be wrapping up some projects around here or else I'm gonna ground myself from everything fun that keeps distracting me from seeing them through to completion.

22. I've come to realize that I really want to skydive, and I WILL - as a reward for reaching my weight goal. :)

24. I've come to realize that life isn't what we make it. It's what we allow GOD to make it.

25. I've come to realize that this weekend I will taking photos at the wedding of the neice who was the little flower girl in MY wedding!

26. I've come to realize that the best music to listen to when I am upset is Rich Mullins' music. I haven't recently come to realize this for the first time; I've come to realize it yet again.

27. I've come to realize that friends know when you need space without getting all huffy or paranoid about it; they know when to kidnap you for lunch and a pedicure; they know when to celebrate with you and when to pray with you and when to just be present, and how to communicate without words.

28. I've come to realize that this year, I'm reaching the potential that God's seen in my all along.

(Thanks to my friend Brandi. I stole this from her blog!)

It works for me!

2008-07-22T11:16:00.002-05:00

People keep saying to me, "You're so strong! How are you doing it? What's your secret? How do you stay motivated? Teach me how to have your willpower!"

Here are my answers:
"I'm not strong. I've never had willpower. I'm no different that I was every other time I tried to lose weight. My secret? It's gonna sound hokey, but it's the only truth: this time, I asked God to take me on this journey.

It all started when I decided to audition for The Biggest Loser. At the time, I was convinced that being pushed physically and mentally in front of a huge audience was the only thing that would work for me. I gave 100% of myself to the making of that audition tape and then, realizing that I could do no more, I gave it to God. Literally, I packaged it up, sealed it, and as I dropped it at the post office, I gave it to Him. "It's in your hands now. I give it to you - the outcome, whatever it may be, I will accept as Your will."

Immediately, I knew that I didn't need the show to lose the weight. By this time, having gone through the emotional journey of finding a willing partner, of filling out the application, and of creating the video, I realized that it wasn't just the weight loss I wanted - it was that I wanted my life back in EVERY aspect. For me, that meant that my journey would be much more than a physical one - it also needed to be emotional, mental and spiritual.

And those are the precise reasons I'd never asked God to help me before. Asking him to help me stick to a diet would've meant that I had to actually give it my all. I've never been ready to do that before, because so much of my weight problem and the bad habits that contributed to it were based in emotional weakness, and my eating habits were my way of covering that up - of dealing with it - of literally stuffing it down. As much as I hated them, my habits and the weight were a comfort to me, and I wasn't willing to let go.

But on a bright spring day last March, I gave it all up. I don't know exactly WHAT brought me to that point, but I knew I was there, and I knew that I couldn't put it off. I was ready to give it all, and to accept the gift of grace and promise in return. I'd never felt more safe in my life as I did the moment I surrendered all control.

So. My strength? My willpower? It's not my own. I'm not one who can turn down a chocolate eclair. I don't have what it takes to pass by Sonic without stopping for a Vanilla Diet Coke. I've never believed in myself enough to make a diet plan and expect to stick to it. I've never had enough self worth to walk into an exercise class without worrying what other people saw and thought. But the fact is, I HAVE passed up donuts, Sonic and potatoes. I've created a menu and new healthy lifestyle that I stick to, and I've joined exercise classes that I've been so blessed and inspired by that OTHERS have joined with me.

But let me tell you, and let me be clear:
I still don't have the strength, willpower, self worth, confidence and dedication that it takes to lose 150 pounds. But I'm well on my way to losing it; in fact, I'm over 1/3 of the way there. The only thing *I* have going for me is God, and my conviction that HE has enough strength, willpower, self worth, confidence and dedication to make up for my lack of each. He's carrying me through this. This I know for sure.

3 months & 39 pounds

2008-07-22T10:53:00.004-05:00

As of June 29th, I'd lost 39 pounds.

That's a 37.5 pound bag of dog food, plus 2 1-pound bags of dog treats.

The jeans I'm wearing in this photo darn near fell down around my knees when I lifted the kibble above my head. They're now happily on their way to a new home - I've purged my wardrobe and emptied my closet. I'll never need those sizes again!

I'm one week away from my 4-month weigh-in. I hope I'll be able to lift what I've lost! :)

break

2008-07-06T04:06:00.002-05:00

I am taking a break from blogging indefinitely.
Maybe I'll be back, maybe I won't. I don't know yet.
Keep recognizing the little things, and celebrate each day.

39 (and my #1 June memory)

2008-06-30T11:16:00.007-05:00

This is what 39 looks like.

People keep asking me if I'm worried about being so close to 40. It's as if I'm supposed to be in denial of some sort. People expect me to be bracing myself for the downhill spiral. But I gotta tell ya:

I feel younger today than I have in many years. And I think I look it, too. So THERE, 39! Forty, BRING IT!

Yesterday marked 3 months since I began my weight loss journey. As of this morning, I've lost 39 pounds. How cool is that? I was aiming for an even 40, but I'll take 39 and be happy with it. I'm officially past the 25% of goal mark, so I celebrated yesterday by buying a couple of new tops and a new pair of jeans. I'm down from 5x in shirts to 3x and some 2x's. And in jeans, allow me to shout from the rooftops: I bought a size 20 yesterday. TWENTY, people! I remember the agony of having to buy 20s for the first time. I'm fairly certain that I left the dressing room in tears that day so may years ago when Dani was a baby. She's 17 now (well, she will be in 3 weeks), and THIS time, standing in the dressing room trying on a pair of 20s, I whooped and hollared "Yessssss!", and she celebrated with me. Perspective. It's all in perspective.

Darren treated me to the most amazing birthday date last week, which brings me to my #1 favorite memory of June, carried over from my last post. He arranged for his mom to watch the boys overnight, and we went shopping. You know how I hate to shop. I'm a weird girl and always have been; when my high school friends wanted to go to the mall and "try on clothes", I used to roll my eyes and groan. But Tuesday night, it was different because we shopped for Darren! I've been begging him to buy new clothes for several months. His shirts are all ratty and his jeans are all HUGE! Darren himself has lost 25 pounds in the last year, and was still wearing 36's. Now he's in 33s. I had a blast shopping with him and picking out his new wardrobe, and he looks amazing. After shopping, he took me to dinner at one of our favorite old haunts: Italianni's, where we shared an entree and a delectable dessert. Following that, we played a couple of rounds of Putt Putt, then played in the arcade for an hour or so, plunking tokens down for Deal or No Deal and Dance Dance Revolution, and my favorite: Skee Ball.

It was a low-key, relaxing, perfect date. I loved every second of it, and relished just hanging out with my best friend and dreamboat of a husband. He makes me believe that I'm beautiful. He thanks God for me. He paints me in a radiant light when he describes me to others. He's God's gift to me, and I suppose that's one of the reasons I'm so content with my life. I have it all.

And I'm 39. This is just the beginning! :)

a month in the life

2008-06-27T08:59:00.024-05:00

It's been 30 days since I sat down and recorded any of the little things. I haven't even written about any of the BIG things!

So, here it is: a countdown of my favorite memories from the past month.

10. To celebrate the end of school and the beginning of summer, the boys and I hosted a water balloon fight for all the kids on our street (plus Faith, Kristopher and Jonathan, who I was babysitting.) After the water balloon fight, Kristi and I took the kids to a nearby snow cone stand. I'm so happy to have one close by this year. It's been too many years since I've indulged regularly in a summer snow cone! I love that I get to share one of my favorite childhood treats with my kids. We've been having fun experimenting with flavors: Tiger's Blood, Batman, Wedding Cake, and the ever-popular rainbow. (The photos are on Kristi's camera.)

9. Last Sunday, Tina and I took our sons and husbands to East Texas for a train ride.This year marks the 75th anniversary of The Lone Ranger, and the Texas State Railroad paid tribute to the western hero by reenacting a familiar scenario from the show. Bandits boarded the train with intent to rob its passengers, but the Lone Ranger and his trusty friend Tonto rode in to save the day. We all had a blast!

8. I was blessed last week with a special visit from my friend Martha and her family, who live near Sacramento. Darren and I stayed at their home 18 months ago when we went to Tahoe for our anniversary, and it was nice to welcome her family this time. Since they were in the general area for a family reunion anyway, they made the trek to Fort Worth where our families got together for lunch on my birthday and chowed down on the BEST cheeseburgers in the world! Of course, maybe I just thought so because it was the first cheeseburger I've had in so long. :)

7. The end of the school year always brings a slew of activity, and this year was the busiest yet. During the last week, I taught a day-long scrapbooking workshop at the boys' school. Marvelous Monday is an annual event where the students get to choose a day's worth of special classes. Each class lasts an hour or so, and the kids can choose subjects ranging from chess (which Darren taught) to soccer to cooking. Ian's favorite was Zooniveristy, featuring animals and zookeepers from the Fort Worth Zoo. Aidan really enjoyed ***. The classes I taught made a paper bag scrapbook from start to finish. It was a jam-packed hour, but loads of fun and a huge success. I was exhausted at the end of the day and swore to never do it again, but I've already forgotten the pain. I'm sure I'll be on board again next year! Then there were the end-of-year parties, Field Day, field trips, awards banquets, choir concerts, and teacher gifts. I love being involved in the kids' school lives, but summer was a welcome break. Whew!

6. Dani had the most stressful couple of months of her young life late this spring. Between her job, 5 AP tests, the SAT, creating the annual video for the choir banquet (she's the Historian) and other commitments, she barely had time to eat and sleep. She managed to talk her boss into taking off for the two weeks of APs, and managed to do well on 4 of them. The 5th one - Chemistry - she decided not to take at the last minute. She also pulled her grades up significantly for the last six weeks, hopefully planting herself back in the top 10% of her class. (She'd slipped to 53 out of 510 students.) When all of her school stress was over, she set her sites on landing a summer internship with a law firm, and ended up with a new part-time job! She spends about 20 hours a week entering data, creating databases and organizing files for a lawyer downtown. She's loving it!

5. Speaking of Dani, she'll be getting her driver's license next month, 1 day after her 17th birthday. She drives as often as we'll let her, which when she's with ME, is darn near every time. She's become a pretty good driver, despite some early hair-raising, life-flashing, pee-seeping moments on the road. I'm almost okay with her driving without me in the front seat. Almost.

4. Aidan and Ian experienced summer camp for the first time last week. Camp of the Hills is a non-profit that provides a summer camp experience for inner city kids who otherwise could never afford it. The expenses are covered by churches, organizations such as Boys and Girls Clubs, and individuals. I've been familiar with CotH because our Fortress kids attend every year, but until last week, I'd never actually been there during camp. While the boys participated as campers (THEY LOVED IT AND ARE BEGGING TO GO BACK!), I sorted and organized the dozens of boxes of craft supplies that had been donated from here there and everywhere. Then I dreamed up crafts that the campers could make with the materials we had on hand. I ended up making kits to last for the whole summer - everything from "Junky Bracelets" made from saftey pins and random beads; leather journals made from leftovers from a big reupholstering project; personalized picture frames that can be used for a camp photo; fabric-tied flip flops; a wooden cross beaded wallhanging thingy, and several dozen various bead projects. I had so much fun, and loved the challenge of figuring out how to use what I had in front of me.

As for the boys, they bonded with their counselors and fellow campers and had the time of their lives. CotH is located in Texas Hill Country, and the boys' cabins are across a big ravine from the girls' cabins and the mess hall. The northern shores of Lake Travis are down a huge hill, as is the swimming hole. It was almost like being in the mountains, in that you have to hike everywhere you go at camp. They got to canoe on the lake, fish, hike, play sports, and everything else you'd expect at camp. Aidan even performed in the Talent Show; he demonstrated his mad napkin-folding skills by creating a hat with a dinner napkin. I didn't know he knew how to do that! The crowd roared when he was finished, and he took a big bow. LOL! Ian won two awards on Banquet Night: "Best Camper" and "The Gentle Spirit Award". Aidan's awards were "Bible Facts Knowledge King" and "Most Amazing Napkin Folder in the World".

3. At the beginning of the month, I had the most incredible opportunity to spend a long weekend at my friend Lee's beach house on Cape Cod! Kristi and I flew up together and enjoyed days and days of relaxation and picture-perfect seascapes, while enjoying the company of 5 wonderful, witty, warm, welcoming women. It was exactly the right timing, and it couldn't have been more perfect. Lee's vacation home is seriously the most gorgeous home I've ever set foot in - it should be gracing the pages of Beautiful Home magazine! Lee is a generous, gracious host, and I'll never be able to thank her properly for inviting me to share a bit of her "heaven on earth". (Lee has a bunch of photos posted on her blog. Click here.)

2. Before we headed to the Cape, Kristi and I spent a couple of days with friends who live in New Hampshire - Sarah and Melissa. They drove us up the coast from Boston to Kennebunkport, Maine, stopping in little coastal towns along the way. It was COLD and blustery, but I loved it. It's exactly how I had Maine pictured in my mind: cold, gray, windy skies and white-capped, choppy, wild waves slapping against rocks and ledges. It was beautiful. Sarah and Melissa were so sweet to drag their kids out (they each have 3!) to entertain Kristi and me. We loved out time spent with them!

1. I'm out of time. Cara will be here in 15 minutes to whisk me away for a birthday overnight girls' outing, and I still haven't packed up! I'll post #1 when I return tomorrow night. (I promise, Darren! And I saved the best for last. xoxo)

30 pounds. That's a lot of beef!

2008-05-27T01:17:00.003-05:00

Every month, I've committed to holding something that's the amount of weight I've lost. Here was month #1. Here's month #2:

That's beef. 20 pounds of brisket, 6 pounds of t-bones, and 4 pounds of ground sirloin.
That's nasty. Raw meat makes me gag. But MORE than that...
THAT's HEAVY! My arms were burning by the time Cara snapped an in-focus picture! To think, I've been carrying that around on my butt for all these years. Ack.

People keep asking me how I'm doing it.
"You've lost 30 pounds in 8 weeks! I wanna do what you're doing! Teach me how to have the willpower you have! What's your secret??"

I always answer honestly, even though it sounds a little hokey when I say it.
I'll answer here the same way.... tomorrow.
:)

recognizing triggers: emotional

2008-05-23T15:12:00.003-05:00

Two weeks ago, I received some upsetting news about someone I love dearly. As I tried to process the information in my head, I found myself taking the boys to Braum's for an after school ice cream treat. At the counter, I ordered their ice cream, and looked at the menu hanging above, where a big glossy photo of a Black Forest Sundae was featured.

It looked wonderful.
I needed to have it.
I opened my mouth to order it.

And then I thought, "No. You don't want it. You're not even hungry. You're acting out of emotion."

See, food has always been a coping mechanism for me. It's always comforted me. It's the first thing I turn to in times of trial.

I stood there at the ice cream counter, BonQuiQui smacking her gum, getting tired of waiting on me to finish my order. Do I want the sundae? Yes. No. But yes. BUT NO! Major internal struggle. I'm eating out of emotion, don't do it. BUT I DON'T CARE THAT I'M EATING OUT OF EMOTION. Yes I do. NO I DON'T! Yes. I do. I'm stronger than this.

Finally, I ordered a kid-sized 96% fat free frozen yogurt.

I walked every day that week except Friday, and went to both Nia sessions. On Thursday morning, I SO didn't want to go to Nia. I knew it would benefit me emotionally and spiritually, but physically, the emotional roller coaster had left me with NO energy. I went anyway. Sure enough, I kept running out of steam and thought about quitting. Several times, a cry rose up in my throat and I considered running out to the stairwell and having a good bawl. Other times, I'd be so lost in my thoughts and worries that I'd forget I was at Nia - the class would be doing something completely different and I'd be either doing the moves from the previous set, or pacing back and forth, oblivious to anyone around me. After class, Megan said, "You look like you could cry." She took me into her arms and held me tight. I knew I'd cry if she didn't let me go, and despite me trying to pull away several times, she wouldn't release me. Eventually, I relaxed into her embrace and let the tears fall. It was cleansing and such a relief to let a little of it out. I love her for seeing that need and for gifting me with her amazing spirit of compassion.

Turns out, the calming effect of Nia on my heart and soul and mind is EXACTLY what I needed to quiet the emotional triggers. Even though every fiber of my being protested me being there, it was the weapon I needed to beat down the monsters once and for all. The next session I attended put the monster out of his wounded misery, as I pounded the crap out him during the martial arts portions of class. It is an AMAZING feeling to face and beat such a beast.

Never again will I allow emotional triggers to get the best of me. I'm a new woman, and this new life of mine is so much bigger than me and my weaknesses. It's becoming a spiritual and an emotional journey more and more everyday. The physical changes are just icing!

to Tiffany, and my other Mom friends everywhere

2008-05-11T01:30:00.004-05:00

My dear sweet friend Tiffany is having a hard time. She's fighting that ugly beast that all Moms have to beat off every now and then. You know it - you've confronted it before. It's the lie that tells you that you're a bad Mom. That you're not doing your kids justice. That you should be the one holding The Bad Mother Award.

Tiffany wrote,
I get tired of being a mom every now and then and I am not the perfect mother....the one who enjoys every single minute with their child and thinks that all of their antics are delightful. I tire of the whining and yes (GASP) I even get tired of playing Candyland and Hullabaloo. Sometimes I even breathe a sigh of relief when the child is down for the night.

And for those reasons, I suppose, I am a bad mom (per my husband's definition). Please tell me I am not the only one who doubts herself? Please tell me that I am really a lot like other people. Please.

It's the mothers who claim to NEVER have those feelings.... who claim that they ALWAYS gaily anticipate another round of Hi Ho Cherry-O... who say that they still read Go Dog Go with fresh enthusiasm, even on the 348th night in a row...who expect us to believe that they've NEVER sent baby to bed with a bottle, or have NEVER shoved a cold Pop Tart in to a 6-year old's hand on the way out the door in the morning, or have NEVER pulled dirty socks out of the hamper because there were no clean ones in the drawer...THOSE are the bad mothers, because they're liars.

You, my dear friend, are real. And honest. And while you might have occasional thoughts of "get this kid away from me!!!!", the majority of the time, you're rational even when stretched to the limit, nurturing even when sleep-deprived, and a wonderful, loving Mom, even when the doubt monster thumbs his nose at you.

I have my moments, I'll admit it. I'm not always a GOOD mom, as is evidenced by the layout following this post. But by golly, I'm certainly not a BAD mom, and neither are you.

Cut yourself some slack today. Let yourself be honored, and honor yourself. You deserve it!

plugging along

2008-05-10T12:19:00.003-05:00

Spring is always a crazy-busy time around here. This year is no exception.

We've all had the regular business of spring to contend with, but on top of that, we've each had new individual goals this year.

This time last spring, Dani was choosing classes for her junior year. she chose to take five (5!) Advanced Placement classes. I told her then that it was too many... that AP Test time would kill her, and she'd hate her life. Well, in many ways, I was right. She's stressed to her limits right now. Last Friday, she took her SAT. The following Monday, she took her first AP test (in Government - she feels very confident about a good score on it!), and then yesterday, she took her 2nd, in US History. Next week, she has Latin, Chemistry and English. Good enough scores on these tests mean that she'll receive college credit for those classes, so it's a big deal to her. During all of this studying, she's also performed her duty as Choir Historian by creating an AWESOME video highlighting all 4 of Paschal's choirs this school year. The banquet was Thursday evening, and she was awarded "Most Improved Junior" in the A Capella choir. She also tried out and was given a spot in next year's Madrigal Choir. All of this, on top of a trip to New York (with choir), her job, and household responsibilities. She's ending her junior year with a bang, and I suspect she'll sleep all summer to make up for it!

Darren has finally wrapped up a horrendous project at work, and received his review for last year. He got excellent marks in every area of the review, and was rewarded with a nice raise, which has already gone into effect. He ran another 5k this morning, and here's what he had to say about that, in his own words:

I had 3 goals for this race. First, I wanted to finish in under 30:00 for
the first time ever. (Also, Aidan's last 5K was 30:00 so I could finally beat
him, hehehe.) Second, I wanted to not walk at all during the whole race. Third,
if everything went well, I really wanted to get down to 28:00.

The race started out fast going downhill for the first 1/2 mile. Bryan was flying and I was trying to keep up with him. He finished his first mile in 8:01 and I was
about 15 seconds back at the time. I dropped further behind him throughout the
race and the last time I saw him was when I was at the 2 mile mark.

The fast pace, the high humidity and the last uphill mile did me in. I had to stop and walk twice for a total of about 100 yards during the last 1-1/4 miles.
With about 3/4 mile to go I found someone else to mutually encourage to the end. That was good, because I was really starting to lag and droop my head.

I sped up a little for the last 1/4 mile and watched the clock tick right up to the finish. 29:29 was what it read as I passed under.

Yeah! My first sub-30:00 5K! My chip time is probably a few seconds over 29:00, but given the rough conditions I felt it was overall a good effort.

Darren

As for me, I've lost another 3 pounds, for a total of 24 pounds lost.
I'm wearing a smaller size in pants, and I'm buttoning shirts that I've always had to wear open with a cami underneath. I feel fantastic, and it amazes me that I'd rather walk these days than drive. I feel so good after only 24 pounds that I simply can not IMAGINE how good I'll feel when I finally reach my goal. Only 126 pounds to go!! :)

blast

2008-05-07T22:02:00.004-05:00

Last week, I de-cat-haired my house in anticipation of company. I knew that at least one of my guest was allergic to cats, so I put forth my best effort in cleaning every corner and baseboard. If only I'd known that one of them would be allergic to TEXAS!! The pecan pollen just about did poor Melissa in!

On Thursday, when everyone began to arrive, Kristi and I met three of them - Melissa, Sarah, and Lee - at the airport, then whisked them away to my corner of the metroplex for Fuzzy's Tacos - my favorite! From there, we picked up Cara, then headed back to the airport for Desiree. After spending the day shopping at my favorite scrapbook store, we made our way back to Fort Worth and the historic Stockyards, where we scarfed down tender, juicy, perfectly seasoned filets.

The next morning, 4 more friends arrived, and Darren prepared a scrumptious brunch of fresh fruit, miniature quiches, muffins, and pigs in a blanket. (I don't think I could ever entertain if not for Costco. The muffins and little quiches came from there.) By noon, we were on the road, headed for Summers Mill, outside of Salado, for a scrapbooking retreat.

Don't laugh, but we (by we, I mean Sheri) rented a U-Haul trailer to haul all of our scrap crap! Seriously... 11 women, a weekend's worth of clothes and toiletries, and our scrap stuff. We filled the floor of the trailer, and even had some stuff stacked on top of it!

On our way down to Summers Mill, we stopped in Waco to visit fellow scrapbooking friend Melissa, and to meet her 1-week old baby. He was adorable, and Melissa, as always, looked radiant. Her other two children were thrilled to have visitors, and were delightful and sweet, just like their Mommy.

I had a BLAST at the retreat! I have proof, too. Usually, I'm able to get anywhere from 20-30 layouts done, but this time, I only finished FIVE! And they were five simple ones at that! Since I largely work on client jobs here at home, I make myself work on my own photos at retreats. That's usually enough to motivate me and keep me working throughout the weekend; it's fun to work on my own memories! But this weekend, I was feeling more social than motivated. I don't regret it, though. Between visiting with the other 41 women there and reconnecting with old friends, I had the BEST time! We found time to shop in Salado (a treat in itself), sing karaoke (I did Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'"), and to take a 2 mile walk around the pastoral property.

Sunday night, we returned to Fort Worth, where Melissa, Sarah, Tiffany, Desiree and I managed to stay up all night long! At about 2:00, I said, "We have to leave for the airport in 3 hours. We might as well stay up." And so we did.

Great friends.

Great times.

What a blast!