In a previous post, I described how I have always been somewhat of a true crime buff and a sucker for just about any kind of a mystery. I got started in my early years in the Nancy Drew/ Hardy Boys books, and it just progressed from there. I also loved the old t.v. shows like "Columbo" and "Murder, She Wrote" and of course, "Sherlock Holmes."
So in my adult years, I have frequently been fascinated by some of the more challenging true life crimes that have gone unsolved. Recently, I ran across the BTK case going on out in Wichita. It is a very fascinating case in many ways, but mainly because the killer seemed to just drop off the face of the earth only to reemerge a year or two ago after a 25 yr. hiatus.
I had spent some time while I have been sick reading up on the case a little. Like everyone else, I was just bumfuzzled as to why a guy would disappear for that amount of time and then come back as though he had not skipped a beat. Also captivating was the fact that he claimed to be born around the year my parents were, so I had a very real idea of what he might be like just from observing my parents' generation.
Just two or three weeks into my research, it appears they have caught the guy they believe to be "BTK." It seems they have him dead to rights. Many people thought he would never be taken alive, and that he would kill again before he was caught. It is going to be fascinating to hear explanations for all the questions that people have had for 30 years now. Move over Michael Jackson and Scott Peterson. My dad now has a new story to be irritable about when they make up BTK theme music and have a story every 15 minutes on Fox News for the next two years. In fact, with the trials of Michael Jackson, Robert Blake, and now BTK going on, Dad is probably going to go absolutely nuts.
I have a busy weekend planned. I am going to try to go get my new contacts tomorrow, and the boys have to sing tomorrow night at a chili supper. We have a lot of house cleaning and trash hauling to do if the weather cooperates. Then hopefully, on Sunday we will all make it out to church and we will get to see my folks for the first time in about 5 or 6 weeks, if all of us are well! Mom says she is not 100 percent yet, but I told her I doubt she has anything we have not had.
I heard the "S" word today--yes, snow! But I will not believe it until I see it. Sam said it may come the first of next week, but I am not believing it yet. Time will tell.
Today was the 106th anniversary of my grandfather's birth. I can't ever forget him. He was indeed a character and one of the loves of my life. I'll always miss him, no matter how old I get. Happy Birthday, Cocky!
Friday, February 25, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Raising the White Flag
Today, the girls and I quit fighting this awful siege of the flu that has ravaged us over the last...oh, what has it been now...four weeks? We gave up---surrendered! After another miserable night and greeting the morning with the realization that we were no better, we begged Daddy to take the day off and take us to the doctor. We secured appointments for the three of us, and off we went to negotiate the terms of surrender with our individual doctors.
The girls saw the pediatrician first, and Sarah was running fever. Hannah got the prize for worst cough. The doctor decided that we had been fighting this long enough and that we needed a little help from the antibiotics. I was grateful for any help we could get. My doctor said the same thing after examining me. We are probably getting close to the back end of this thing, but hopefully the medicines will help us get over the hump and kill off any infections that are starting in sinuses and ears.
We have totally given up on all hope of snow this year. It just is not coming. I have to say that over and over to get myself to believe we can actually make it through a Tennessee winter without one snow. (Ice storms don't count.) The little birds are already showing up in the back yard chirping their heads off. It won't be long until the little things are so loud in the morning that you cannot sleep!
The boys are recovering from their disappointment about not getting to go to the basketball tournament. They have other goals in sight now that are beginning to get them rolling again. The chorus is practicing furiously for their competitions, and Dan is working on a website for his school to enter in the judging. So they will be very busy doing all their work, the extra work, and practicing ball for the ACE (American Christian Education) games at the big convention.
I'm getting near daily updates from all in the family who have been sick with this flu mess as well, and everyone seems to be doing better. For that, we are grateful. Hopefully, this will be our last week of sickness for a while.
Well, there is not a lot to report today. I am trying to get my mind focused for a big March with lots going on. Micah, my Dad, my grandmother, my mother-in-law, Sarah and an uncle all have birthdays in the first seven days of March alone! Time to get busy on the birthday cards! I am giving a shower for my sister-in-law to be on the 26th. I have to get going with that, too.
That's Wednesday's update. Have a good one!
The girls saw the pediatrician first, and Sarah was running fever. Hannah got the prize for worst cough. The doctor decided that we had been fighting this long enough and that we needed a little help from the antibiotics. I was grateful for any help we could get. My doctor said the same thing after examining me. We are probably getting close to the back end of this thing, but hopefully the medicines will help us get over the hump and kill off any infections that are starting in sinuses and ears.
We have totally given up on all hope of snow this year. It just is not coming. I have to say that over and over to get myself to believe we can actually make it through a Tennessee winter without one snow. (Ice storms don't count.) The little birds are already showing up in the back yard chirping their heads off. It won't be long until the little things are so loud in the morning that you cannot sleep!
The boys are recovering from their disappointment about not getting to go to the basketball tournament. They have other goals in sight now that are beginning to get them rolling again. The chorus is practicing furiously for their competitions, and Dan is working on a website for his school to enter in the judging. So they will be very busy doing all their work, the extra work, and practicing ball for the ACE (American Christian Education) games at the big convention.
I'm getting near daily updates from all in the family who have been sick with this flu mess as well, and everyone seems to be doing better. For that, we are grateful. Hopefully, this will be our last week of sickness for a while.
Well, there is not a lot to report today. I am trying to get my mind focused for a big March with lots going on. Micah, my Dad, my grandmother, my mother-in-law, Sarah and an uncle all have birthdays in the first seven days of March alone! Time to get busy on the birthday cards! I am giving a shower for my sister-in-law to be on the 26th. I have to get going with that, too.
That's Wednesday's update. Have a good one!
Monday, February 21, 2005
Nearly Blown Away!
Just when I wrote in my last installment that "tornado season" was a couple of months away, we awoke this morning to a huge storm. It is "President's Day," and we were sleeping in, enjoying the last day of our four-day weekend. I had waked up to move Hannah and Sarah over a bit---Sarah got in the bed in the middle of the night when the lightning had started. I was being crowded off the bed. Just when I got us all back where we belonged and covered up again, the rain began to hit hard against the front of the house and the window in my room.
Now our house is pretty well insulated to sound from the outside, so I know that when I can hear the rain that it is raining hard. This was harder than "hard." I jumped up, grabbed Hannah and told Sarah to get up---that I could not carry them both. Down the steps we all went, with one pillow to cover our heads.
By the time I reached the hallway downstairs that goes back to the boys' rooms, the hail had started. I put the girls down and removed the one glass picture from the hallway and set it in the dining room. Then, I went to Dan and Micah's room, opened the door, and saw Dan hurrying Micah out to the hall. I got Sam up---he could not hear a train if it came through his room for the fan in there---and they all dragged their covers instinctively to the hallway. We have no basement, no storm cellar...just the hallway and adjoining bathroom.
It all happened so fast that we did not have much time to react. The kids and I were convinced that this was the "big one" coming through. I suggested that we go on and move to the bathtub, since I figured that the shower stall would provide some insulation if things started flying. Once again, 5 kids, 3 blankets and one sleepy mom moved toward the east of our house. The noise got very loud, but it did not last much longer.
When it was quiet again, we stepped from our little safe spot and ran to the windows to survey the damage. No trees were down. That was good. Our garbage cans were probably blown 50 feet to the back tree line. I saw some debris in a neighbor's yard, but could not tell what it was.
Sarah was fascinated with the ice on the ground that had turned our flower beds white. She stepped out and got some of it to put in the freezer to show Daddy when he got home. It was about dime-sized to nickel-sized hail. There was lots of it.
I called Tim at work, and he told me that on radar, it just looked like one line of storms, so we should not get more. He also said that another fellow's wife reported the tornado sirens going off in a town about 50 miles due west of us. Later, we heard that some towns to our west and northwest suffered straight-line wind damage---they don't think there were any tornadoes.
I marvel that all this is starting in February here. It is usually late March to April through late fall that we have to worry about these storms. The way our winter has been more like Spring, so I guess that anything is possible. We are happy to all be safe and sound tonight!
Now our house is pretty well insulated to sound from the outside, so I know that when I can hear the rain that it is raining hard. This was harder than "hard." I jumped up, grabbed Hannah and told Sarah to get up---that I could not carry them both. Down the steps we all went, with one pillow to cover our heads.
By the time I reached the hallway downstairs that goes back to the boys' rooms, the hail had started. I put the girls down and removed the one glass picture from the hallway and set it in the dining room. Then, I went to Dan and Micah's room, opened the door, and saw Dan hurrying Micah out to the hall. I got Sam up---he could not hear a train if it came through his room for the fan in there---and they all dragged their covers instinctively to the hallway. We have no basement, no storm cellar...just the hallway and adjoining bathroom.
It all happened so fast that we did not have much time to react. The kids and I were convinced that this was the "big one" coming through. I suggested that we go on and move to the bathtub, since I figured that the shower stall would provide some insulation if things started flying. Once again, 5 kids, 3 blankets and one sleepy mom moved toward the east of our house. The noise got very loud, but it did not last much longer.
When it was quiet again, we stepped from our little safe spot and ran to the windows to survey the damage. No trees were down. That was good. Our garbage cans were probably blown 50 feet to the back tree line. I saw some debris in a neighbor's yard, but could not tell what it was.
Sarah was fascinated with the ice on the ground that had turned our flower beds white. She stepped out and got some of it to put in the freezer to show Daddy when he got home. It was about dime-sized to nickel-sized hail. There was lots of it.
I called Tim at work, and he told me that on radar, it just looked like one line of storms, so we should not get more. He also said that another fellow's wife reported the tornado sirens going off in a town about 50 miles due west of us. Later, we heard that some towns to our west and northwest suffered straight-line wind damage---they don't think there were any tornadoes.
I marvel that all this is starting in February here. It is usually late March to April through late fall that we have to worry about these storms. The way our winter has been more like Spring, so I guess that anything is possible. We are happy to all be safe and sound tonight!
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Time to Count Some Blessings
When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.
Are you ever burdened with load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings; ev'ry doubt will fly
And you will be singing as the days go by.
When you look at others with their lands and gold,
Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold.
Count your many blessings; money cannot buy
Your reward in heaven, nor your home on high.
So amid the conflict, whether great or small,
Do not be discouraged, God is over all.
Count your many blessings, angels will attend,
Help and comfort give you to your journey's end.
©1856-1926 John Oatman, 1851-1921 Edwin O.Excell
Words and Music by John Oatman Jr & Edwin O.Excell
It is easy to "get down" at times, especially when we let our eyes take over instead of letting God guide our lives. Sickness is my tormenter, I have decided. It only seems "reasonable" that a loving God would want us to be well all the time, right?
Now in our "little family," it seems that someone is just about always sick. My mother is convinced that some enemy somewhere is bombarding us with germ warfare. Who knows, maybe she is right! All I know is that I have been stuck in the house for nearly this whole "winter"---and I use the term loosely, because it has not been a real winter---with 5 grouchy children and their equally "happiness-challenged" dad/step-dad. (We all know that I'm NEVER grouchy, right? NOT!)
So, having been deprived of winter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day and every other happy occurrence of the season due to unexpected death, injuries, and disease, I decided it was time to count some blessings.
This week, I say "so long" to a pen pal that I have had for somewhere close to a year now. I meant to look it up, but I have not yet. Alice is a 86-year-old Miami native with a son who has Down Syndrome. She is a fiercely independent, vivacious lady that I met on eBay, and we hit it off and have shared a year of wonderful times, all via email. But alas, as we all do, Alice has had her share lately of physical challenges, and her time is limited, so she is going to sadly sign off for a while, at least until she can catch up on some of her own "to-do-list." She has been a great source of encouragement and laughter for me over the last year or so, and I will miss our "talks." But she has indeed been a blessing!
Word came this week, too, that friends Fred and Dot who are battling health problems in South Carolina got some good news this week. Dot had been hospitalized and was looking at having to go to an assisted living facility because Fred needs to look into his own health concerns. Dot suddenly got well enough to even get up and walk, and it was decided she could return home, at least for now. That is another blessing.
Email came tonight that Tim's cousin, Ron H., is back on American soil tonight. Praise God! He made it back from Iraq and is reportedly in Oklahoma somewhere making his way back to his family in South Dakota. He reported police escorts of their busses and waving and cheering citizens along the route. That is heart-warming. We still have several young men in harm's way over there, but we trust that God will graciously bring them home soon as well. What a blessing it truly is to live in this great country and be protected by the best military on earth!
The kids and I are plugging away at the house cleaning that is going VERY slowly, due to everyone having to stop occasionally and rest because we are all so sick. The stack of dirty dishes I attacked today reminded me of the poem I decoupaged for my mother one time:
Thank God for dirty dishes.
They have a tale to tell.
While other folks go hungry,
We're eating very well.
With home and health and happiness
We shouldn't want to fuss,
For by this stack of evidence
God's been very good to us!
(author unknown)
I could say ditto for dirty clothes (at least we are not naked), and the car that has not been washed all winter (we have a way to get around.)
The car that is in the shop doesn't seem to be as bad as we were worried it might be (some kind of gear box versus the whole transmission,) so that is happy news, too.
"Bonus time" is right around the corner, and we can fix eyes and teeth and septic tanks and cars, pay all the medical bills of the winter, etc. We have heat, telephones, and indoor toilets (contrary to what some of our Northern family members believe!) and tornado season doesn't start for a couple of months. :)
And finally, as I said in my last blog, my greatest blessing is that I have all five kids and one husband safe and sound with me tonight. I have no missing or wayward kids, no run-aways, no drug-addicted teens. My husband is here--not out "running with the boys." The fact that we missed State Tournament this weekend due to raging flu on the team pales in comparison to the blessings of knowing that each and every boy is safe in his parents' care, and that Tuesday morning, they will return to a school where the teachers not only care about their education but also about their character and their souls.
Yes, indeed, count your many blessings---name them one by one---and it will surprise you what the Lord hath done....
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.
Are you ever burdened with load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings; ev'ry doubt will fly
And you will be singing as the days go by.
When you look at others with their lands and gold,
Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold.
Count your many blessings; money cannot buy
Your reward in heaven, nor your home on high.
So amid the conflict, whether great or small,
Do not be discouraged, God is over all.
Count your many blessings, angels will attend,
Help and comfort give you to your journey's end.
©1856-1926 John Oatman, 1851-1921 Edwin O.Excell
Words and Music by John Oatman Jr & Edwin O.Excell
It is easy to "get down" at times, especially when we let our eyes take over instead of letting God guide our lives. Sickness is my tormenter, I have decided. It only seems "reasonable" that a loving God would want us to be well all the time, right?
Now in our "little family," it seems that someone is just about always sick. My mother is convinced that some enemy somewhere is bombarding us with germ warfare. Who knows, maybe she is right! All I know is that I have been stuck in the house for nearly this whole "winter"---and I use the term loosely, because it has not been a real winter---with 5 grouchy children and their equally "happiness-challenged" dad/step-dad. (We all know that I'm NEVER grouchy, right? NOT!)
So, having been deprived of winter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day and every other happy occurrence of the season due to unexpected death, injuries, and disease, I decided it was time to count some blessings.
This week, I say "so long" to a pen pal that I have had for somewhere close to a year now. I meant to look it up, but I have not yet. Alice is a 86-year-old Miami native with a son who has Down Syndrome. She is a fiercely independent, vivacious lady that I met on eBay, and we hit it off and have shared a year of wonderful times, all via email. But alas, as we all do, Alice has had her share lately of physical challenges, and her time is limited, so she is going to sadly sign off for a while, at least until she can catch up on some of her own "to-do-list." She has been a great source of encouragement and laughter for me over the last year or so, and I will miss our "talks." But she has indeed been a blessing!
Word came this week, too, that friends Fred and Dot who are battling health problems in South Carolina got some good news this week. Dot had been hospitalized and was looking at having to go to an assisted living facility because Fred needs to look into his own health concerns. Dot suddenly got well enough to even get up and walk, and it was decided she could return home, at least for now. That is another blessing.
Email came tonight that Tim's cousin, Ron H., is back on American soil tonight. Praise God! He made it back from Iraq and is reportedly in Oklahoma somewhere making his way back to his family in South Dakota. He reported police escorts of their busses and waving and cheering citizens along the route. That is heart-warming. We still have several young men in harm's way over there, but we trust that God will graciously bring them home soon as well. What a blessing it truly is to live in this great country and be protected by the best military on earth!
The kids and I are plugging away at the house cleaning that is going VERY slowly, due to everyone having to stop occasionally and rest because we are all so sick. The stack of dirty dishes I attacked today reminded me of the poem I decoupaged for my mother one time:
Thank God for dirty dishes.
They have a tale to tell.
While other folks go hungry,
We're eating very well.
With home and health and happiness
We shouldn't want to fuss,
For by this stack of evidence
God's been very good to us!
(author unknown)
I could say ditto for dirty clothes (at least we are not naked), and the car that has not been washed all winter (we have a way to get around.)
The car that is in the shop doesn't seem to be as bad as we were worried it might be (some kind of gear box versus the whole transmission,) so that is happy news, too.
"Bonus time" is right around the corner, and we can fix eyes and teeth and septic tanks and cars, pay all the medical bills of the winter, etc. We have heat, telephones, and indoor toilets (contrary to what some of our Northern family members believe!) and tornado season doesn't start for a couple of months. :)
And finally, as I said in my last blog, my greatest blessing is that I have all five kids and one husband safe and sound with me tonight. I have no missing or wayward kids, no run-aways, no drug-addicted teens. My husband is here--not out "running with the boys." The fact that we missed State Tournament this weekend due to raging flu on the team pales in comparison to the blessings of knowing that each and every boy is safe in his parents' care, and that Tuesday morning, they will return to a school where the teachers not only care about their education but also about their character and their souls.
Yes, indeed, count your many blessings---name them one by one---and it will surprise you what the Lord hath done....
The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men....
The last time I wrote, my "babies" were packing their little duffel bags for State Tournament! On Thursday morning, not having had a lot of sleep, we all woke early to make sure nothing was forgotten in the rush to get to school. I irritated each boy, asking numerous times, "Are you sure you packed enough underwear? Did you get your tennis shoes? Where is your tie?" Finally, all was packed, and quickly gathering some pillows, I placed one in each boy's arms and told them I loved them and to "Win for your old Mom," and to be safe!
I expected that they would have one game Thursday night that I would not get to see, and then on Friday, we had hoped to join them over in the eastern part of the state for the remaining games. We were hoping to go all the way and clinch our second title in 2 years!
But, "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry!" Upon arriving at school, the boys quickly learned that a decision had been made by the administration not to go to the tournament. It seems this flu epidemic has so ravaged our team that those who made this decision felt it was best for the boys not to go and play sick.
Micah called first around 9 with the news. I understood from him that the whole tournament was being canceled. But when Daniel called a little later, he told me that just our team was not going. I have no way of knowing what happened with the rest of the teams at this point. I just know that we did not go, and if the tournament went on, we forfeited.
I really felt sorry for the kids. They have worked so hard for this all year and have been robbed of their chance to repeat last year's winning of the state title. As you can imagine, they were to bury when they got home. To add insult to injury, we are just about afraid to go anywhere because the flu is just raging here. To even eat out endangers one for some new version of the flu that he or she has not already had.
The officials closed the school Friday, and they will be out Monday for President's Day. Hopefully some healing will come to the bodies of these kids. But I can tell you right now, it is going to take some time for hearts to heal. Mine included!
Daniel sees it as his senior year slipping away without all the good things happening that are "supposed" to happen your senior year. I feel for him, but I only hope there will be something better on the horizon. There is one more competition in which the basketball team will participate this year. The title game there won't be nearly as attractive as State was, but it looks like it may just be all that this year can bring.
My mom, always the optimist, told the boys to look on the bright side. Maybe they avoided a bus crash and 20 funerals. Who knows. I think you have to believe in Providence if you are a Christian. Maybe God answered my prayers to keep my babies safe.
I expected that they would have one game Thursday night that I would not get to see, and then on Friday, we had hoped to join them over in the eastern part of the state for the remaining games. We were hoping to go all the way and clinch our second title in 2 years!
But, "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry!" Upon arriving at school, the boys quickly learned that a decision had been made by the administration not to go to the tournament. It seems this flu epidemic has so ravaged our team that those who made this decision felt it was best for the boys not to go and play sick.
Micah called first around 9 with the news. I understood from him that the whole tournament was being canceled. But when Daniel called a little later, he told me that just our team was not going. I have no way of knowing what happened with the rest of the teams at this point. I just know that we did not go, and if the tournament went on, we forfeited.
I really felt sorry for the kids. They have worked so hard for this all year and have been robbed of their chance to repeat last year's winning of the state title. As you can imagine, they were to bury when they got home. To add insult to injury, we are just about afraid to go anywhere because the flu is just raging here. To even eat out endangers one for some new version of the flu that he or she has not already had.
The officials closed the school Friday, and they will be out Monday for President's Day. Hopefully some healing will come to the bodies of these kids. But I can tell you right now, it is going to take some time for hearts to heal. Mine included!
Daniel sees it as his senior year slipping away without all the good things happening that are "supposed" to happen your senior year. I feel for him, but I only hope there will be something better on the horizon. There is one more competition in which the basketball team will participate this year. The title game there won't be nearly as attractive as State was, but it looks like it may just be all that this year can bring.
My mom, always the optimist, told the boys to look on the bright side. Maybe they avoided a bus crash and 20 funerals. Who knows. I think you have to believe in Providence if you are a Christian. Maybe God answered my prayers to keep my babies safe.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Readying for Battle
Well, the children tell me that it is Wednesday. I suppose they are right. I have been trapped in the house for about 3 weeks now--I've lost track--save for getting out last Sunday morning for church. Tim has managed to stay free of both kinds of the "crud," how I do not know. However, this evening, he is feeling like his head is filling up, so he tried his new method for dealing with colds. When he feels one coming on, he shoots salt water up his nose (yuck!) with a syringe, and he gargles with Listerine, salt water, and hydrogen peroxide. Now I don't even know if the latter is safe to ingest. He hasn't died yet, so I guess since he has done this a few times now, it is o.k.
Meanwhile, all three kids have been packing all night for their 3 days away at State Tournament. I hope they are all going to be well enough to go. Micah is pushing it, as he has been out of school two days this week, but he says the
Triaminic that I gave him today did the trick and he is feeling much better now. He is still coughing every so often, but I do not think there is a chance in the world that he will get to play even one second of a game at State, so I am not too worried about him tagging along with the big boys.
I hear that Chattanooga and Memphis are both reporting large numbers of cases of the flu, so I am just hoping that our competition has been equally as ravaged as we have by this mess. We had seven basketball players out on Tuesday this week. Even the coach went home sick Tues. afternoon, so I know it is running through us.
I would surely love to see Daniel get a chance to win a State Competition in his senior year! He wants it so badly, but we have at least two very strong teams standing in our way. We know enough about their strategy that we are at least able to mount some kind of defense, but I just wonder if it will be enough. I am praying that my baby will once again transform into Shaq or Michael or Larry or Wilt. I'll take anybody famous, as long as they score well!
At this point, I am just hoping that Tim and I are able to drag ourselves up there Friday. We will miss Thursday night's opening game to my sadness. Tim just cannot get that much time off right now, having just overcome the leg injury. Watch this column for updates as soon as I can post. And wish us luck!
Meanwhile, all three kids have been packing all night for their 3 days away at State Tournament. I hope they are all going to be well enough to go. Micah is pushing it, as he has been out of school two days this week, but he says the
Triaminic that I gave him today did the trick and he is feeling much better now. He is still coughing every so often, but I do not think there is a chance in the world that he will get to play even one second of a game at State, so I am not too worried about him tagging along with the big boys.
I hear that Chattanooga and Memphis are both reporting large numbers of cases of the flu, so I am just hoping that our competition has been equally as ravaged as we have by this mess. We had seven basketball players out on Tuesday this week. Even the coach went home sick Tues. afternoon, so I know it is running through us.
I would surely love to see Daniel get a chance to win a State Competition in his senior year! He wants it so badly, but we have at least two very strong teams standing in our way. We know enough about their strategy that we are at least able to mount some kind of defense, but I just wonder if it will be enough. I am praying that my baby will once again transform into Shaq or Michael or Larry or Wilt. I'll take anybody famous, as long as they score well!
At this point, I am just hoping that Tim and I are able to drag ourselves up there Friday. We will miss Thursday night's opening game to my sadness. Tim just cannot get that much time off right now, having just overcome the leg injury. Watch this column for updates as soon as I can post. And wish us luck!
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
What Day Is It Again?
There is one thing about being confined in a house with children who are sick for extended periods of time. You lose track of the days. It is hard to tell one from the other. I guess I have always used Sunday and Wednesday outings for church, along with a few other journeys out during the week as markers to help my old brain know where we are on the calendar. All it takes to upset that is the kind of months we have had since December.
I am happy to report that we gradually seem to be getting better, although all those who have spoken to me on the phone today would disagree. I have mostly lost my voice and can only force out a few squeaks here and there. It is embarrassing. The lady from the car dealership called me again today, and the first thing she said was, "Are you still sick?" The meanie in me wanted to say, "Oh,no, I always sound like a dying cat!" But I restrained myself, and she kept the conversation short, for which I was grateful. It hurts to talk right now.
I got an email from good blogger friend Jennifer who reports that three of her four girls have the flu. It is official---they went to a doctor! She just got confirmed what we mothers have known for two weeks----this stuff is running rampant.
Meanwhile, I had to laugh at the antics of my brother the preacher and his friends this last weekend. They decided that they had not had a good get-together in a couple of months, so they "impromptu-like" decided that the men and boys would camp out on Friday night and butcher a hog. (Now that sounds like more fun than I have had in I-don't-know-when. NOT!) Then, on Saturday, they would cook the thing, and all the lady-folk would join them for a big shindig. So, Dan, and I presume my little 4 year old nephew Ben, camped out and killed the hog. They were out with members of the congregation Mark and Mary who used to worship with us where I live. Mark and Mary's oldest boy Cord was having a fun time on Saturday chasing the girls with the pig's heart! The thing they did not take into account was this flu-bug going around.
By late Sunday afternoon, Ben was not feeling so well and wanted the full attention of his mother, who now has to hold baby Lauren, the newest niece. So, my mother took baby Lauren and let Steph attend to a clingy Ben. His temperature rose on up there, and before the night was out, he was vomiting. Ben's older sister Kelsey, who is nearly 7 now, aptly remarked the next evening to her grandmother that maybe Daddy shouldn't plan any more get-togethers for the flu season, because now Ben was sick. My other brother Doug remarked, "Out of the mouth of babes...."
Well, in sports news, the boys lost their basketball game down in Alabama last night in a last-minute free-throw fiasco. We fouled, they scored, and there were only 5 seconds left with which to try and redeem ourselves. We failed and they won by 2. I did not get to attend, of course, but I would have still liked to have seen the game but for all this sickness. The only redeeming point of losing is that maybe it will keep us more humble and cautious for State playoffs later this week.
I got a couple of pieces of sad news today. One is that an 86-year-old friend of mine that I met on eBay is not doing so well and will not be able to continue emailing for now. I have enjoyed our e-conversations so much and will miss her. I hope her health and her personal circumstances will allow her to come back when she can. The other sad news was that my friend Dot in South Carolina who has been sick with complications from breast cancer is going to have to go into assisted living, because her dear husband Fred may have to battle cancer of his own. He has had prostate cancer, and his PSA levels have climbed again, and there is a lump. My thoughts and prayers are with both of them as they face this trial in their lives. Please remember to pray for Fred and Dot.
Well, I am off to find a calendar and figure out what I have going for the rest of the week. Maybe by tomorrow, I will get my bearings and know what day it is again!
I am happy to report that we gradually seem to be getting better, although all those who have spoken to me on the phone today would disagree. I have mostly lost my voice and can only force out a few squeaks here and there. It is embarrassing. The lady from the car dealership called me again today, and the first thing she said was, "Are you still sick?" The meanie in me wanted to say, "Oh,no, I always sound like a dying cat!" But I restrained myself, and she kept the conversation short, for which I was grateful. It hurts to talk right now.
I got an email from good blogger friend Jennifer who reports that three of her four girls have the flu. It is official---they went to a doctor! She just got confirmed what we mothers have known for two weeks----this stuff is running rampant.
Meanwhile, I had to laugh at the antics of my brother the preacher and his friends this last weekend. They decided that they had not had a good get-together in a couple of months, so they "impromptu-like" decided that the men and boys would camp out on Friday night and butcher a hog. (Now that sounds like more fun than I have had in I-don't-know-when. NOT!) Then, on Saturday, they would cook the thing, and all the lady-folk would join them for a big shindig. So, Dan, and I presume my little 4 year old nephew Ben, camped out and killed the hog. They were out with members of the congregation Mark and Mary who used to worship with us where I live. Mark and Mary's oldest boy Cord was having a fun time on Saturday chasing the girls with the pig's heart! The thing they did not take into account was this flu-bug going around.
By late Sunday afternoon, Ben was not feeling so well and wanted the full attention of his mother, who now has to hold baby Lauren, the newest niece. So, my mother took baby Lauren and let Steph attend to a clingy Ben. His temperature rose on up there, and before the night was out, he was vomiting. Ben's older sister Kelsey, who is nearly 7 now, aptly remarked the next evening to her grandmother that maybe Daddy shouldn't plan any more get-togethers for the flu season, because now Ben was sick. My other brother Doug remarked, "Out of the mouth of babes...."
Well, in sports news, the boys lost their basketball game down in Alabama last night in a last-minute free-throw fiasco. We fouled, they scored, and there were only 5 seconds left with which to try and redeem ourselves. We failed and they won by 2. I did not get to attend, of course, but I would have still liked to have seen the game but for all this sickness. The only redeeming point of losing is that maybe it will keep us more humble and cautious for State playoffs later this week.
I got a couple of pieces of sad news today. One is that an 86-year-old friend of mine that I met on eBay is not doing so well and will not be able to continue emailing for now. I have enjoyed our e-conversations so much and will miss her. I hope her health and her personal circumstances will allow her to come back when she can. The other sad news was that my friend Dot in South Carolina who has been sick with complications from breast cancer is going to have to go into assisted living, because her dear husband Fred may have to battle cancer of his own. He has had prostate cancer, and his PSA levels have climbed again, and there is a lump. My thoughts and prayers are with both of them as they face this trial in their lives. Please remember to pray for Fred and Dot.
Well, I am off to find a calendar and figure out what I have going for the rest of the week. Maybe by tomorrow, I will get my bearings and know what day it is again!
Monday, February 14, 2005
Happy Valentine's Day, All!
Well, the great holiday for lovers has rolled around again, but alas, it falls on Monday this year! What a bummer day to have a holiday! :)
Tim and I have everything against us this year for any hope of a romantic day, it seems. It's like that when you have five children. Trying to place all of them so that you can have quiet, romantic evenings is about as impossible as trying to smuggle daybreak past a rooster!
I expect that we will try to sneak in some quiet time over this next weekend when we travel to Chattanooga for the state basketball tournament. The three boys will be staying in their own hotel, so maybe we can get a nice room for a couple of nights up there. I had much rather put Valentine's Day off til a better day than to try and have it on MONDAY! Yuck!
The boys have their last ballgame today before state. They travel to an away game tonight, and then at the end of the week, we're off for the BIG ONE! As much as I have loved every minute of ball, I am ready for a little down time to get some other things done in our lives!
Well, in bad news, my nephew Ben has apparently succombed to the dreaded Puke Bug of blogs past. Now Ben has been nowhere in proximity to my kids or friend Jennifer's! This is just further evidence that the bug has hit the entire state and is running (literally) rampant. Our prayers are with you, young Ben. May you not speak into the "big white phone" for very long.
I really don't have a lot of news to report. We rejoiced that my brother's congregation had another baptism last night. Mom is supposed to get me a count here in the near future of how many have obeyed the gospel since Dan became the preacher at this wonderful little congregation "out in the sticks" of our fair state. This little church is a wonderful example of what can happen when people bring their family members to meet the Lord. So many there have become Christians and then had the courage to tell the rest of their friends and family about Christ. We rejoice with the new brother in Christ and all the wonderful Marcella family!
I was able to attend morning services yesterday but not evening due to teething problems with the Bee. She has jaw teeth set to come in with a vengeance, and she cried the entire 45 minute trip yesterday morning. I know she is in horrible pain.
Well, hope everyone that is celebrating today has a lovely Valentine's Day, but if you are putting it off like we are, I totally understand. See ya in the next update if I live through teething!
Tim and I have everything against us this year for any hope of a romantic day, it seems. It's like that when you have five children. Trying to place all of them so that you can have quiet, romantic evenings is about as impossible as trying to smuggle daybreak past a rooster!
I expect that we will try to sneak in some quiet time over this next weekend when we travel to Chattanooga for the state basketball tournament. The three boys will be staying in their own hotel, so maybe we can get a nice room for a couple of nights up there. I had much rather put Valentine's Day off til a better day than to try and have it on MONDAY! Yuck!
The boys have their last ballgame today before state. They travel to an away game tonight, and then at the end of the week, we're off for the BIG ONE! As much as I have loved every minute of ball, I am ready for a little down time to get some other things done in our lives!
Well, in bad news, my nephew Ben has apparently succombed to the dreaded Puke Bug of blogs past. Now Ben has been nowhere in proximity to my kids or friend Jennifer's! This is just further evidence that the bug has hit the entire state and is running (literally) rampant. Our prayers are with you, young Ben. May you not speak into the "big white phone" for very long.
I really don't have a lot of news to report. We rejoiced that my brother's congregation had another baptism last night. Mom is supposed to get me a count here in the near future of how many have obeyed the gospel since Dan became the preacher at this wonderful little congregation "out in the sticks" of our fair state. This little church is a wonderful example of what can happen when people bring their family members to meet the Lord. So many there have become Christians and then had the courage to tell the rest of their friends and family about Christ. We rejoice with the new brother in Christ and all the wonderful Marcella family!
I was able to attend morning services yesterday but not evening due to teething problems with the Bee. She has jaw teeth set to come in with a vengeance, and she cried the entire 45 minute trip yesterday morning. I know she is in horrible pain.
Well, hope everyone that is celebrating today has a lovely Valentine's Day, but if you are putting it off like we are, I totally understand. See ya in the next update if I live through teething!
Friday, February 11, 2005
Re-Greeting Your Grits
Well, the vomiting virus continues to plague our fair city! If there is any comfort in being ill, it is knowing that you are not the only one going through it! See my friend Jennifer's blog for further details! That is the funniest posting I have seen in a long time, but I feel sorry for her sweet little one that is suffering right now! Luckily, the little ones seem to heal quickly, and they are back to playing before you know it. Wish we were that able to bounce back!
I had to miss the boys' ballgame tonight in Chattanooga. I just could not summon enough strength today to get up and do anything, much less trot across the state for a basketball game. The house is getting to "disaster proportions" again. The children hate that term for some reason. They also hate it when I refer to garbage as garbage', using the French pronunciation. Why, I do not know. I just hear them mumbling to one another that they had better pick up a little because Mom is talking about garbage' again and "disaster proportions."
Those of us who do not have hurting bellies have stopped up heads and chests and are coughing. Daniel sounds like he has the croup. I know he is just trying to get through next weekend, and after that, he can relax a little. So far, Tim has managed to avoid both kinds of flu, knock on wood, but his leg is still swelling on him. We are a pitiful crew!
According to the boys, they had a nerve-racking game tonight. It was the other team's Homecoming, and it was held at a YMCA. Apparently, the refs thought that they would do the opposing team the favor of helping them towards winning their Homecoming game. It got very physical again, and the boys said that the refs were not calling some very blatant fouls. One of our team members may have broken his arm. We are waiting to hear on that. The coach thought that Daniel was having trouble hanging onto passes until Daniel told him that they were illegally pushing, and to just watch the next few plays. Surely enough, the coach saw what they were doing and protested---and ended up getting a technical for telling the ref what he was supposed to be seeing. Still, despite a tough game, we pulled out the win, and now we only have one game before State.
There's not too much to report here. We have to work hard on the house tomorrow and try to get those "disaster proportions" reduced a little. I want to make it out to church Sunday if at all possible, and I am just praying that I don't catch anything else for a while. I am with everyone who says that if we are not going to get a good snow that we might as well fast-forward to Spring and get on with it. I saw on a news page today that I believe it is NASA that is saying 2005 may be the warmest year on record. I can hardly wait! (NOT!)
Well, the bambinos are crying to go to bed. Better move it that way! Everyone have a Happy!
I had to miss the boys' ballgame tonight in Chattanooga. I just could not summon enough strength today to get up and do anything, much less trot across the state for a basketball game. The house is getting to "disaster proportions" again. The children hate that term for some reason. They also hate it when I refer to garbage as garbage', using the French pronunciation. Why, I do not know. I just hear them mumbling to one another that they had better pick up a little because Mom is talking about garbage' again and "disaster proportions."
Those of us who do not have hurting bellies have stopped up heads and chests and are coughing. Daniel sounds like he has the croup. I know he is just trying to get through next weekend, and after that, he can relax a little. So far, Tim has managed to avoid both kinds of flu, knock on wood, but his leg is still swelling on him. We are a pitiful crew!
According to the boys, they had a nerve-racking game tonight. It was the other team's Homecoming, and it was held at a YMCA. Apparently, the refs thought that they would do the opposing team the favor of helping them towards winning their Homecoming game. It got very physical again, and the boys said that the refs were not calling some very blatant fouls. One of our team members may have broken his arm. We are waiting to hear on that. The coach thought that Daniel was having trouble hanging onto passes until Daniel told him that they were illegally pushing, and to just watch the next few plays. Surely enough, the coach saw what they were doing and protested---and ended up getting a technical for telling the ref what he was supposed to be seeing. Still, despite a tough game, we pulled out the win, and now we only have one game before State.
There's not too much to report here. We have to work hard on the house tomorrow and try to get those "disaster proportions" reduced a little. I want to make it out to church Sunday if at all possible, and I am just praying that I don't catch anything else for a while. I am with everyone who says that if we are not going to get a good snow that we might as well fast-forward to Spring and get on with it. I saw on a news page today that I believe it is NASA that is saying 2005 may be the warmest year on record. I can hardly wait! (NOT!)
Well, the bambinos are crying to go to bed. Better move it that way! Everyone have a Happy!
Thursday, February 10, 2005
One of those wild roller coaster rides.....
Remember last week when I compared my life to a roller coaster ride? Well, last night, I went down one of those 180 degree drops---straight down and very fast! Our poor little family of seven has been fighting the two kinds of flu, and every day, I can hardly wait to see which child has which version of these nasty bugs going around!
Yesterday, Sam and Micah stayed home with the coughing bug, and Hannah started coughing as well. I always dread it when the little babies get it, because they don't understand why they feel so badly. Anyway, as the day progressed, I noticed that my stomach was hurting, but I just attributed it to the fact that I had not eaten a whole lot all day.
So, when supper time rolled around, the kids voted for a taco supper, and I complied. I don't know how long it has been since we have had tacos, but I cannot remember the last time. I had bought the fixings on the last trip to the store, and since I was not feeling so great, I figured it would be a quick and easy dinner.
Well, about 9 o'clock, I started to get that feeling where, well, you know, you feel like you are going to--toss your tacos. I fought it as long as I could, and then I announced to the family that I was going to be heading upstairs to see if I could get any relief.
It all hit at once, as it always does, and I had about an hour of "fun." "Ralph" and "Montezuma" both met me there, and we had a big time. I was really grateful that I had thoroughly cleaned the bathroom over the weekend, including the floor, because I lay on it for a long time.
I had visions of when I lay on the bathroom floor of the hotel right after Tim and I married with a gall stone attack. I did not know what it was at the time, but I knew it was bad. I'll tell you that story sometime. It has to be up there on the top ten list in the stories of my life.
At any rate, the room spun last night, and I yelled down once to tell the family that I might be losing consciousness at some point, so if they heard a thud, they should come check. Daniel was kind enough to blow me up a plastic bath pillow and bring it to me so that I could put it under my head on the floor.
There just is not anything pretty about stomach flu, is there? It is one of those solitary journeys we make in life. Grown men fear it more than just about anything. I just pray that no more of the kids have to take this journey this month!
In other news, Tim went back to the doctor yesterday and was told that he seems to have avoided going under the knife, this time! His ligaments have mended enough that the doctor told him that he could attempt to throw down his crutches and walk on his own, if it did not hurt too much. The doctor will see him in six more weeks, and if all is still well, he will release him. That is certainly wonderful news, and news that I did not believe could happen. It surely looked like 3 major ligaments ripping in the knee would have a hard time jumping back up there and mending themselves together, but the body is a wonderful machine, and God is good!
The boys are due to go to East Tennessee for a basketball game tomorrow night, but I wonder if the weather/and/or the school closings over there due to the flu outbreak will cause the game to be canceled.
Right now, we are just trying to avoid any spreading of Mr. Puke Bug, as my fellow-blogger Jennifer calls it! I am praying for a good, cleansing, hard snow to eradicate some of this sickness that inevitably seems to come when our winters are warm. I am wondering if the days of snows are over in Tennessee. It seems we have become the new Florida of sorts. While the North gets hit with massive blizzards, and Florida gets blown away with hurricane after hurricane, we sit up here in the 60's and 70's in the middle of winter.
Well, the Bee is crying....did you see her pictures below? She is such a doll, but so demanding! I think she needs some meds and then back to bed for the both of us!
Have a great day!!!!
Yesterday, Sam and Micah stayed home with the coughing bug, and Hannah started coughing as well. I always dread it when the little babies get it, because they don't understand why they feel so badly. Anyway, as the day progressed, I noticed that my stomach was hurting, but I just attributed it to the fact that I had not eaten a whole lot all day.
So, when supper time rolled around, the kids voted for a taco supper, and I complied. I don't know how long it has been since we have had tacos, but I cannot remember the last time. I had bought the fixings on the last trip to the store, and since I was not feeling so great, I figured it would be a quick and easy dinner.
Well, about 9 o'clock, I started to get that feeling where, well, you know, you feel like you are going to--toss your tacos. I fought it as long as I could, and then I announced to the family that I was going to be heading upstairs to see if I could get any relief.
It all hit at once, as it always does, and I had about an hour of "fun." "Ralph" and "Montezuma" both met me there, and we had a big time. I was really grateful that I had thoroughly cleaned the bathroom over the weekend, including the floor, because I lay on it for a long time.
I had visions of when I lay on the bathroom floor of the hotel right after Tim and I married with a gall stone attack. I did not know what it was at the time, but I knew it was bad. I'll tell you that story sometime. It has to be up there on the top ten list in the stories of my life.
At any rate, the room spun last night, and I yelled down once to tell the family that I might be losing consciousness at some point, so if they heard a thud, they should come check. Daniel was kind enough to blow me up a plastic bath pillow and bring it to me so that I could put it under my head on the floor.
There just is not anything pretty about stomach flu, is there? It is one of those solitary journeys we make in life. Grown men fear it more than just about anything. I just pray that no more of the kids have to take this journey this month!
In other news, Tim went back to the doctor yesterday and was told that he seems to have avoided going under the knife, this time! His ligaments have mended enough that the doctor told him that he could attempt to throw down his crutches and walk on his own, if it did not hurt too much. The doctor will see him in six more weeks, and if all is still well, he will release him. That is certainly wonderful news, and news that I did not believe could happen. It surely looked like 3 major ligaments ripping in the knee would have a hard time jumping back up there and mending themselves together, but the body is a wonderful machine, and God is good!
The boys are due to go to East Tennessee for a basketball game tomorrow night, but I wonder if the weather/and/or the school closings over there due to the flu outbreak will cause the game to be canceled.
Right now, we are just trying to avoid any spreading of Mr. Puke Bug, as my fellow-blogger Jennifer calls it! I am praying for a good, cleansing, hard snow to eradicate some of this sickness that inevitably seems to come when our winters are warm. I am wondering if the days of snows are over in Tennessee. It seems we have become the new Florida of sorts. While the North gets hit with massive blizzards, and Florida gets blown away with hurricane after hurricane, we sit up here in the 60's and 70's in the middle of winter.
Well, the Bee is crying....did you see her pictures below? She is such a doll, but so demanding! I think she needs some meds and then back to bed for the both of us!
Have a great day!!!!
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
The Bee and Me
Last night, I was running from activity to activity in my every night's business of feeding and nurturing five little busy bees and their "king bee." The boys had a ball game, so supper did not go on the stove until 9:30! I threw together some "Fiesta" which is a family favorite for a quick but tasty meal. It consists of a layer of tortilla chips or Doritos, then a layer of rice, then ground beef, and finally hot cheese sauce mixed with salsa and topped with fresh tomatoes if you have 'em. After wolfing down a very late supper, everyone ran off to his individual computer to get on the homework.
I settled into the sofa and fired up Tim's laptop which my genius has fixed to be wireless! It has a battery life of about 2 hours, and it gets its Internet connection through the air, a concept which I find to be amazing. It is wonderful when you are dog-tired to just curl up on the sofa and brainlessly surf for a while. Since I don't have cable right now, I at least can check the headlines on CNN and Fox's sites, among other favorites. I went to the "America's Most Wanted" site and read up on this elusive guy---"BTK"---and a little about the history of the case. I have always been somewhat of a True Crime buff, so I thought I would read and bring myself up to speed on this case. We know a few people that live out that way, so I wanted to see what the latest was on "old BTK."
I was surprised to find that there are some who have found strange similarities between the BTK killings and the case of JonBenet Ramsey, a case which I followed with interest for a year or two after it happened. It was fun during my "divorced" years while I did not have a lot going on to read the forums and post a little concerning the JonBenet case. Most of us felt at the time that her parents did it, but there are some troubling aspects of the case that have not been explained.
This BTK fellow apparently knew enough about his victims comings and goings that he knew when they would leave and come back. He would let himself in and wait on the victims, kill them in an unhurried, leisurely fashion, and leave when he felt like it. In the JonBenet case, if there was an outside killer, it is theorized that he broke in while they were gone and waited inside the house until the family went to bed, and then he went and got JonBenet, took her to the basement and killed her. It is a long shot that BTK and JonBenet's killer are one and the same, but I will follow that theorizing with interest. There is also some mention of the Zodiac killer with these other two. All in all, they are a nasty crew. Apparently, BTK is alive and well and taunting the police through one particular t.v. station in Wichita. They know it is really him, as he is sending them back pieces of evidence that he took from the crime scenes years ago. It is either him or someone who was in cahoots with the real killer and knew the details of the killings.
I read one post last night about these two ladies who came home one night from somewhere, and the daughter went in the bathroom and said, "Mother, you left the window up in here and the air is on." Her mother defensively grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen, went and got her daughter and quietly told her she did not put the window up. Eventually, as they searched every inch of the house, they went in an unused bedroom and found a man under a quilt on the floor. He jumped up and ran out, and they did not apparently get a good look at him. They wonder to this day if it was BTK! It gives me the eebie-jeebies to think about that! I will be double- checking my locks from now on--even though I am miles and miles from this creep. There are creeps everywhere.
I digress from my story about last night, though. I eventually had to leave my comfy couch to go help Daniel with something in his room, so while I was in there, I decided to sit down and check my email. (I leave that one on all the time, and my mail downloads in there.) It wasn't long before a blood-curdling scream was heard from the den. It had a familiar ring to it. It was Sarah, and she was letting me know that "the Bee" was in trouble again.
Hannah "Bee," as we affectionately call her, is the busiest baby you have ever seen in your life. She can single-handedly wreck an entire house in nothing flat. If there is folded laundry, she unfolds it. If there are items on a table, she cannot rest until they are all in the floor. Toys have to come out of the toyboxes, toilet paper gets unrolled, and mail could end up anywhere in the hands of the Bee! She does not "do" playpens or cribs. Hannah is a free spirit, and she must be free to be a busy Bee!
If sleep positions do indeed reveal personalities, then Hannah is going to be as outgoing as they come. She insists on sleeping on her back, arms and legs outstretched, with absolutely no cover and no one or nothing touching her. She is also a co-sleeper, meaning that she has shared our bed since she was very little. Like my friend "Jennifer" who blogs, I love having my little ones right beside me so that I can know when she needs something, make sure she is warm enough or cool enough, and just enjoy her while she is little and cuddly. But the "Bee" is not much for cuddling! She will grunt if you touch her, even accidentally! Sometimes, when she is really deep in sleep, I take the opportunity to grab her and hold her close for a while and observe her while she is still. I know it won't last long.
Like all my kiddos, Hannah does not require much sleep. Four hours is generally enough for one block of sleep for her. A nap of 30 minutes recharges her pretty well. So it is pretty much a constant battle for me to get the sleep I need ( I stay perpetually tired these days---sometimes I think a good 12 hour night would be wonderful!) If I did not get Tim and the kids to juggle Hannah-watching with me, I surely would have died of fatigue by now. I used to ask the pediatrician when Daniel and Sam were little what I could do to get some sleep. He would just shake his head and reassure me that when they got to be teenagers, they would sleep. So I have now been continuously sleep-deprived for 18 years now with around 12 to go! I'm doomed! :)
But back to the story...
So Sarah is screaming as though I need to come really, really quickly instead of just at my leisure. When I get to the den, I see Daddy's laptop open, with about 8 of the keys pulled off! I panicked, because Daddy uses this for work, and I could just hear the moans of agony if Daddy saw the computer looking like this. Quickly, Daniel and I figured out where all the characters went on the keyboard and replaced them. Luckily, they just snapped on! Hannah had done quite a job on the keyboard, but we managed to make it o.k. again.
However, that apparently was not all she did. She managed to actually post about 6 gibberish posts to my blog! Luckily, Daddy discovered them early this morning and deleted them before too many readers were left scratching their heads. I have never seen a child more adept at pressing just the right buttons to actually accomplish something on a computer. More than once, she has launched applications on my desktop computer, and she has added some addendums to my letters at times. For those of you thinking about writing your own blog, rest assured that if a 15 month old baby can add six posts, then it should not be too hard for you. She sure seems to have her father's love of technology along with her mother's boldness in learning new things on a computer.
It's like that a 1000 times a day, it seems, with the Bee around. I tell Tim that if she is alive every day when he gets home, then I have done my job! Some days, we don't get a whole lot more done than just follow Hannah, getting her out of trouble. It is a huge departure for me from how it was with Sarah. She has always been the best kid---rarely getting into much trouble at all. Hannah is just a daily reminder that every child is different and special and that each one deserves that individual dose of love and care!
I'm listening to the nine o'clock news that we can get with the old rabbit ears atop the t.v. set. We had planned not to have any channels at all, but we found during tornado season that we needed a way to see if we were about to be blown away. We have loved not having all the filth that permeates the air waves nowadays. We get PBS and one local channel and some religious t.v. channel that we seldom stop on. PBS has really polished their lineup from the days when I was a child and had to watch that annoying singing woman and her sidekick with a pointed hat called "the Professor." Every lazy elementary teacher I had stuck us in front of the t.v. set for "music" class rather than doing something live with us. I came to dislike that show very much! Now, there are some really well-done shows that even teach morality and values, and I have been pleasantly surprised when the girls and I watch together. PBS allows me to get a few things done every day without feeling guilty that they are watching some mindless show.
Well, it is way too quiet in here. I am off to see what the Bee is into now. No telling---she has probably completed our taxes by now.
I settled into the sofa and fired up Tim's laptop which my genius has fixed to be wireless! It has a battery life of about 2 hours, and it gets its Internet connection through the air, a concept which I find to be amazing. It is wonderful when you are dog-tired to just curl up on the sofa and brainlessly surf for a while. Since I don't have cable right now, I at least can check the headlines on CNN and Fox's sites, among other favorites. I went to the "America's Most Wanted" site and read up on this elusive guy---"BTK"---and a little about the history of the case. I have always been somewhat of a True Crime buff, so I thought I would read and bring myself up to speed on this case. We know a few people that live out that way, so I wanted to see what the latest was on "old BTK."
I was surprised to find that there are some who have found strange similarities between the BTK killings and the case of JonBenet Ramsey, a case which I followed with interest for a year or two after it happened. It was fun during my "divorced" years while I did not have a lot going on to read the forums and post a little concerning the JonBenet case. Most of us felt at the time that her parents did it, but there are some troubling aspects of the case that have not been explained.
This BTK fellow apparently knew enough about his victims comings and goings that he knew when they would leave and come back. He would let himself in and wait on the victims, kill them in an unhurried, leisurely fashion, and leave when he felt like it. In the JonBenet case, if there was an outside killer, it is theorized that he broke in while they were gone and waited inside the house until the family went to bed, and then he went and got JonBenet, took her to the basement and killed her. It is a long shot that BTK and JonBenet's killer are one and the same, but I will follow that theorizing with interest. There is also some mention of the Zodiac killer with these other two. All in all, they are a nasty crew. Apparently, BTK is alive and well and taunting the police through one particular t.v. station in Wichita. They know it is really him, as he is sending them back pieces of evidence that he took from the crime scenes years ago. It is either him or someone who was in cahoots with the real killer and knew the details of the killings.
I read one post last night about these two ladies who came home one night from somewhere, and the daughter went in the bathroom and said, "Mother, you left the window up in here and the air is on." Her mother defensively grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen, went and got her daughter and quietly told her she did not put the window up. Eventually, as they searched every inch of the house, they went in an unused bedroom and found a man under a quilt on the floor. He jumped up and ran out, and they did not apparently get a good look at him. They wonder to this day if it was BTK! It gives me the eebie-jeebies to think about that! I will be double- checking my locks from now on--even though I am miles and miles from this creep. There are creeps everywhere.
I digress from my story about last night, though. I eventually had to leave my comfy couch to go help Daniel with something in his room, so while I was in there, I decided to sit down and check my email. (I leave that one on all the time, and my mail downloads in there.) It wasn't long before a blood-curdling scream was heard from the den. It had a familiar ring to it. It was Sarah, and she was letting me know that "the Bee" was in trouble again.
Hannah "Bee," as we affectionately call her, is the busiest baby you have ever seen in your life. She can single-handedly wreck an entire house in nothing flat. If there is folded laundry, she unfolds it. If there are items on a table, she cannot rest until they are all in the floor. Toys have to come out of the toyboxes, toilet paper gets unrolled, and mail could end up anywhere in the hands of the Bee! She does not "do" playpens or cribs. Hannah is a free spirit, and she must be free to be a busy Bee!
If sleep positions do indeed reveal personalities, then Hannah is going to be as outgoing as they come. She insists on sleeping on her back, arms and legs outstretched, with absolutely no cover and no one or nothing touching her. She is also a co-sleeper, meaning that she has shared our bed since she was very little. Like my friend "Jennifer" who blogs, I love having my little ones right beside me so that I can know when she needs something, make sure she is warm enough or cool enough, and just enjoy her while she is little and cuddly. But the "Bee" is not much for cuddling! She will grunt if you touch her, even accidentally! Sometimes, when she is really deep in sleep, I take the opportunity to grab her and hold her close for a while and observe her while she is still. I know it won't last long.
Like all my kiddos, Hannah does not require much sleep. Four hours is generally enough for one block of sleep for her. A nap of 30 minutes recharges her pretty well. So it is pretty much a constant battle for me to get the sleep I need ( I stay perpetually tired these days---sometimes I think a good 12 hour night would be wonderful!) If I did not get Tim and the kids to juggle Hannah-watching with me, I surely would have died of fatigue by now. I used to ask the pediatrician when Daniel and Sam were little what I could do to get some sleep. He would just shake his head and reassure me that when they got to be teenagers, they would sleep. So I have now been continuously sleep-deprived for 18 years now with around 12 to go! I'm doomed! :)
But back to the story...
So Sarah is screaming as though I need to come really, really quickly instead of just at my leisure. When I get to the den, I see Daddy's laptop open, with about 8 of the keys pulled off! I panicked, because Daddy uses this for work, and I could just hear the moans of agony if Daddy saw the computer looking like this. Quickly, Daniel and I figured out where all the characters went on the keyboard and replaced them. Luckily, they just snapped on! Hannah had done quite a job on the keyboard, but we managed to make it o.k. again.
However, that apparently was not all she did. She managed to actually post about 6 gibberish posts to my blog! Luckily, Daddy discovered them early this morning and deleted them before too many readers were left scratching their heads. I have never seen a child more adept at pressing just the right buttons to actually accomplish something on a computer. More than once, she has launched applications on my desktop computer, and she has added some addendums to my letters at times. For those of you thinking about writing your own blog, rest assured that if a 15 month old baby can add six posts, then it should not be too hard for you. She sure seems to have her father's love of technology along with her mother's boldness in learning new things on a computer.
It's like that a 1000 times a day, it seems, with the Bee around. I tell Tim that if she is alive every day when he gets home, then I have done my job! Some days, we don't get a whole lot more done than just follow Hannah, getting her out of trouble. It is a huge departure for me from how it was with Sarah. She has always been the best kid---rarely getting into much trouble at all. Hannah is just a daily reminder that every child is different and special and that each one deserves that individual dose of love and care!
I'm listening to the nine o'clock news that we can get with the old rabbit ears atop the t.v. set. We had planned not to have any channels at all, but we found during tornado season that we needed a way to see if we were about to be blown away. We have loved not having all the filth that permeates the air waves nowadays. We get PBS and one local channel and some religious t.v. channel that we seldom stop on. PBS has really polished their lineup from the days when I was a child and had to watch that annoying singing woman and her sidekick with a pointed hat called "the Professor." Every lazy elementary teacher I had stuck us in front of the t.v. set for "music" class rather than doing something live with us. I came to dislike that show very much! Now, there are some really well-done shows that even teach morality and values, and I have been pleasantly surprised when the girls and I watch together. PBS allows me to get a few things done every day without feeling guilty that they are watching some mindless show.
Well, it is way too quiet in here. I am off to see what the Bee is into now. No telling---she has probably completed our taxes by now.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
The Night Red Bull met Mr. Shaq
(The only-slightly-fictionalized account of the night "my baby" got "the spirit")
In our last little installment we reviewed how Dan, Sam, and Micah came to be at a little private school and how they all three managed to make the basketball team. If my math skills serve me correctly, (and my mother will tell you they rarely do,) my boys collectively comprise 20% of the team. Now they rarely play at the same time, due to the differences in their ages, skills and sizes.
Little Micah, you will recall, is well----- little. A fifth grader, Micah stands a whopping 4'8"---we just got out ye olde tape measure a few days ago. Sarah likes to compare him to one of her favorite PBS characters, George Shrinks, who is also the shorty pants in his family. (Of course, Micah does not like the comparison, because George Shrinks is about three inches tall!) It is likely that Micah got the majority of his genes from his two grandfathers. His father and I do not see much of ourselves in him. Micah has his Pappy's ears and his GrandDan's height. GrandDan is around 5'8", so we figure Micah only has another foot to grow during his teen years.
Meanwhile, while we know exactly where Micah got his traits, it appears that Sam, our middle child, did indeed crawl out from under a rock. He favors no one that we know of. While he has enough of his daddy in him to assure his paternity, his physical characteristics are still under investigation. Sam certainly did not get his metabolism from his dad or me. He eats like a horse but never gains an ounce. He already wears a size 14 shoe and is somewhere around 6'1" or 6'2". There are plenty of tall men in Sam's lineage, but we just cannot figure out which one gave him the majority of his physical traits. I'll keep you posted on the status of the investigation.
I should interject here that I have had witnesses to all the births of the children, and we are pretty sure that none were mixed up at the hospital.
And then, there is Daniel. Daniel is probably the easiest of the kids to dissect. He looks so much like his daddy that it hurts, as they say. However, Daniel has finally hit the place at 18 that he has outgrown his father. He is 6'1" according to the measuring tape, although he just "knows" he is bigger than that. He does seem a lot taller than that to me, but the mark on the kitchen doorway does not lie. We did it three times, turned the measuring tape around two different ways, and still came up with the same numbers. What we have here is a case of boys exaggerating their height! The whole basketball team thinks they are 3 inches taller than they actually are! They claim the doctor told them they were 6'4"! But that's another story.
But back to Daniel. I guess it is true what a girlfriend told me 20 years ago. First babies are special. It is not that you love them any more than the others. It is just that you seem to recall everything about their babyhood so much more vividly, I think. At least, that is the way it is with Daniel. That is why I am simply not believing that my baby is 18 now, and it is just so hard to think that he will be out on his own sooner than I am ready to let him go.
As far as I am concerned, though, Daniel is giving me my money's worth out of his senior year. He is participating in many activities, but basketball has been the most prominent thusfar. We go to state in just two weekends now. However, there was one night--just one game--this year that if that had been the only game of the year, it would have been worth all the effort. That was the night that the Red Bull met our version of Shaquille O'Neal.
I have heard many mothers tell about how their sons have rituals that they do before sporting events. There was the one story about how one kid had his lucky undershirt that he wore under his football jersey. He would not let his mom wash it all season as long as they won. I have heard similar stories about other items of clothing not washed--socks, jocks, shoes, and jerseys. (All I can say is that I am extremely glad my child lets me wash his clothing, because his socks alone could be used as a weapon of mass destruction.) Other kids have a series of special movements that they must go through before the big game, like napping, eating, and meditating, or something like that.
Well, as the year has progressed, Daniel has come up with his own ritual that must be completed prior to game time. First, he comes home and sleeps for as long as he can between school and the game. When he gets up, he likes to consume some rice or pasta, but nothing heavy. Then, he dresses and we head for the gym, where he likes to be half an hour early so that he can "shoot around." Then, right before the game starts, he consumes his secret weapon---the Red Bull.
"Red Bull" is a new drink out on the market that is in the family of drinks designed to boost the mental acuity of all of us overworked, overstressed, sleep-deprived people of the 21st Century. It taste like a combination of Mountain Dew and urine.
(I hear my mother's familiar little voice again..."And how would you know what urine tastes like?" O.k., Mother, it tastes like what I imagine a combination of Mountain Dew and urine tastes like!)
It is certainly not on my top ten list of drinks to grab from the convenience store cooler, as I would take a Dr. Pepper anytime over any of these new-fangled brain-booster drinks. However, Daniel has come to believe that he cannot make it through 4 quarters of play without a Red Bull.
And so, a few weeks ago, we had traveled south to a neighboring town for a match-up between schools that have a history of strong rivalry. Apparently, year after year, these two schools have met, and being in such close proximity to one another, the kids know one another and "talk smack" to one another before games. Our kids had heard that their kids had really been "talking smack" and apparently, that is the worst thing that rival teams can do to one another--this "talking smack" thing. So we were already loaded for bear when we stepped off that bus.
I was taken aback when we walked into the gymnasium of this opposing team. It was the tiniest little gym I had ever seen. Around the court, there was about 3 feet of space between the boundary lines and the wall on 3 sides. On the 4th side, there was maybe 20 feet of space. There was just enough room to put 3 rows of folding chairs, and this is where the parents were expected to sit. Nearly every chair was filled, and there had to have been another 100 people standing where they could. There was a hint of excitement in the air that I had not sensed before. This was going to be an unusual game--I just knew it!
Tim looked nervous. He was on crutches, still, and I could tell that he did not like the idea of ten sweaty, gargantuan boys fighting over a ball ending up landing on his torn up knee in a sea of folding chairs. I did not particularly like the idea of Hannah ending up as a greasy spot on the floor should that scenario happen, either. But it was what we had to work with, so we found a chair and settled in for the game.
What followed reminded me more of a hockey game than a basketball game. I have never seen such hitting, punching, slamming, jamming play in a high school basketball game before. The refs tolerated more than they should have, and by letting the roughness go, it escalated as the game progressed. I personally did not see unsportsman-like conduct, really, although I was told later that some sneaky punches were being thrown here and there. Being down on ground level, I saw more of what the players see than ever before. Our kids were shooting into the hoop on the far end of the court during the first half, so we could not see as well until the second half when they came down to shoot on the spectator end of the gym.
Now Daniel has had this habit of looking somewhat like a deer in the headlights during the first half of most of the games this year. Granted, he has only been playing basketball for two years now, and he has come an awful long way in the time he has played. The coach told us he has rarely ever let a second year player play, much less start, in games in the past. Daniel has practiced and practiced, and his size does not hurt either. But we have all been frustrated that it takes him a whole half usually to get rid of his nerves.
Plus, he is not a good dribbler. The coach has told him in no uncertain terms to only dribble when he has no other choice. His job is to pull down rebounds and block so that the skinny little good dribblers can use him as a screen to get around to the goal and score. He has been quite a useful player in that role this year.
So, on this particular night, things had been really ugly so far, and prospects for winning did not look good. Our crowd was quieter than usual, having been taken out of the game somewhat by the harshness of the play and the unusual officiating, or lack of it, that was being done. Nearly every player had hit the floor hard due to some sneaky move by the opponents. By the fourth quarter, battered and bruised, we were 15 points behind. The way they had played, it was a wonder we were not further down than we were. We were beginning to resign ourselves to going home to tell of a hard-fought near-win against our dear arch-rivals.
Then, the Red Bull kicked in.
It was like when Bill Bixby changed into the Incredible Hulk! We saw it in his eyes. Daniel got mad! And you know what happens when Bill Bixby/Daniel gets mad. He transforms. Except Daniel did not transform into the Hulk---he transformed into the Shaq!
Yep, right there before our eyes, my mild-mannered, too-polite-to-play-ball "baby" transformed into a basketball player. Woe be to that player that hit Daniel in a bad spot. In the next moments, he was up there grabbing rebounds and feeding them to his slightly-shocked teammates. As soon as the ball made it back across to the opposing team's side, he would steal it and send it on back down our way! When our point guard could not find a way in to the goal, Daniel would just take the ball, plow in, and shoot! The score began to tighten! The cry started going up---"Get it to Daniel, get it to Daniel!"
"Brother Lloyd," the man who announces our home games looked over and caught my eye. By now, Tim and I were both standing on the wall with a host of other cheering parents. "What has gotten into Daniel?" he asked with a huge grin.
He presumed it was "the spirit." I knew better. It was the Red Bull!
With every steal, every rebound, every field goal, the intensity in the gym mounted. The crowd was on its feet. The cheerleaders looked like they were lip-syncing, as they could not be heard over the roar. As we overtook the opposing team in scoring for the first time all night, an even louder roar went up. We just might win this one!
The opposing coach was livid. He told his players to turn it up a level. Our coach was on his feet, but for once, he was pretty speechless! I don't think that he could believe that Daniel was flawlessly executing all those plays that he draws on the clipboard while yelling at my blond son.
The officials stopped the game, put all ten players in a huddle and told them to settle down and quit being quite so physical. It was too late for that. Shaq was in the house!
Our team had new life, and with some of the prettiest playing I have seen in a long time, they moved ahead and won by 10 points. It was not just Daniel. The whole team was working like a well-oiled machine. Together, they managed to score 25 points that went nearly unanswered in the fourth quarter(only two points for the opposing team). By this time, the Baptists were sure that Tim and me (but especially me) had "gotten the spirit" too! I was jumping up and down like a school girl of 16 as Dan made play after play. Hannah and Sarah were delighted that their "old Mom" actually still had some life left in her. Tim was throwing in a few "That's my boy" 's.
It was a special night for me. Every parent needs at least one night like this in their life. For those of us that do not have super-athletes, it is fun when they have one game where everything goes right.
As I said, we have State Tournament in two weeks. We'll be there, carrying Daniel's stash of Red Bull. I think we just have to get him to drink it a little earlier--that's all! I'll keep you posted on whether or not there are any more Shaq sitings.
And who knows what could happen if Sam gets hold of a can of Red Bull. "Michael Jordan" just might show up at a high school game!
Wish us luck!
In our last little installment we reviewed how Dan, Sam, and Micah came to be at a little private school and how they all three managed to make the basketball team. If my math skills serve me correctly, (and my mother will tell you they rarely do,) my boys collectively comprise 20% of the team. Now they rarely play at the same time, due to the differences in their ages, skills and sizes.
Little Micah, you will recall, is well----- little. A fifth grader, Micah stands a whopping 4'8"---we just got out ye olde tape measure a few days ago. Sarah likes to compare him to one of her favorite PBS characters, George Shrinks, who is also the shorty pants in his family. (Of course, Micah does not like the comparison, because George Shrinks is about three inches tall!) It is likely that Micah got the majority of his genes from his two grandfathers. His father and I do not see much of ourselves in him. Micah has his Pappy's ears and his GrandDan's height. GrandDan is around 5'8", so we figure Micah only has another foot to grow during his teen years.
Meanwhile, while we know exactly where Micah got his traits, it appears that Sam, our middle child, did indeed crawl out from under a rock. He favors no one that we know of. While he has enough of his daddy in him to assure his paternity, his physical characteristics are still under investigation. Sam certainly did not get his metabolism from his dad or me. He eats like a horse but never gains an ounce. He already wears a size 14 shoe and is somewhere around 6'1" or 6'2". There are plenty of tall men in Sam's lineage, but we just cannot figure out which one gave him the majority of his physical traits. I'll keep you posted on the status of the investigation.
I should interject here that I have had witnesses to all the births of the children, and we are pretty sure that none were mixed up at the hospital.
And then, there is Daniel. Daniel is probably the easiest of the kids to dissect. He looks so much like his daddy that it hurts, as they say. However, Daniel has finally hit the place at 18 that he has outgrown his father. He is 6'1" according to the measuring tape, although he just "knows" he is bigger than that. He does seem a lot taller than that to me, but the mark on the kitchen doorway does not lie. We did it three times, turned the measuring tape around two different ways, and still came up with the same numbers. What we have here is a case of boys exaggerating their height! The whole basketball team thinks they are 3 inches taller than they actually are! They claim the doctor told them they were 6'4"! But that's another story.
But back to Daniel. I guess it is true what a girlfriend told me 20 years ago. First babies are special. It is not that you love them any more than the others. It is just that you seem to recall everything about their babyhood so much more vividly, I think. At least, that is the way it is with Daniel. That is why I am simply not believing that my baby is 18 now, and it is just so hard to think that he will be out on his own sooner than I am ready to let him go.
As far as I am concerned, though, Daniel is giving me my money's worth out of his senior year. He is participating in many activities, but basketball has been the most prominent thusfar. We go to state in just two weekends now. However, there was one night--just one game--this year that if that had been the only game of the year, it would have been worth all the effort. That was the night that the Red Bull met our version of Shaquille O'Neal.
I have heard many mothers tell about how their sons have rituals that they do before sporting events. There was the one story about how one kid had his lucky undershirt that he wore under his football jersey. He would not let his mom wash it all season as long as they won. I have heard similar stories about other items of clothing not washed--socks, jocks, shoes, and jerseys. (All I can say is that I am extremely glad my child lets me wash his clothing, because his socks alone could be used as a weapon of mass destruction.) Other kids have a series of special movements that they must go through before the big game, like napping, eating, and meditating, or something like that.
Well, as the year has progressed, Daniel has come up with his own ritual that must be completed prior to game time. First, he comes home and sleeps for as long as he can between school and the game. When he gets up, he likes to consume some rice or pasta, but nothing heavy. Then, he dresses and we head for the gym, where he likes to be half an hour early so that he can "shoot around." Then, right before the game starts, he consumes his secret weapon---the Red Bull.
"Red Bull" is a new drink out on the market that is in the family of drinks designed to boost the mental acuity of all of us overworked, overstressed, sleep-deprived people of the 21st Century. It taste like a combination of Mountain Dew and urine.
(I hear my mother's familiar little voice again..."And how would you know what urine tastes like?" O.k., Mother, it tastes like what I imagine a combination of Mountain Dew and urine tastes like!)
It is certainly not on my top ten list of drinks to grab from the convenience store cooler, as I would take a Dr. Pepper anytime over any of these new-fangled brain-booster drinks. However, Daniel has come to believe that he cannot make it through 4 quarters of play without a Red Bull.
And so, a few weeks ago, we had traveled south to a neighboring town for a match-up between schools that have a history of strong rivalry. Apparently, year after year, these two schools have met, and being in such close proximity to one another, the kids know one another and "talk smack" to one another before games. Our kids had heard that their kids had really been "talking smack" and apparently, that is the worst thing that rival teams can do to one another--this "talking smack" thing. So we were already loaded for bear when we stepped off that bus.
I was taken aback when we walked into the gymnasium of this opposing team. It was the tiniest little gym I had ever seen. Around the court, there was about 3 feet of space between the boundary lines and the wall on 3 sides. On the 4th side, there was maybe 20 feet of space. There was just enough room to put 3 rows of folding chairs, and this is where the parents were expected to sit. Nearly every chair was filled, and there had to have been another 100 people standing where they could. There was a hint of excitement in the air that I had not sensed before. This was going to be an unusual game--I just knew it!
Tim looked nervous. He was on crutches, still, and I could tell that he did not like the idea of ten sweaty, gargantuan boys fighting over a ball ending up landing on his torn up knee in a sea of folding chairs. I did not particularly like the idea of Hannah ending up as a greasy spot on the floor should that scenario happen, either. But it was what we had to work with, so we found a chair and settled in for the game.
What followed reminded me more of a hockey game than a basketball game. I have never seen such hitting, punching, slamming, jamming play in a high school basketball game before. The refs tolerated more than they should have, and by letting the roughness go, it escalated as the game progressed. I personally did not see unsportsman-like conduct, really, although I was told later that some sneaky punches were being thrown here and there. Being down on ground level, I saw more of what the players see than ever before. Our kids were shooting into the hoop on the far end of the court during the first half, so we could not see as well until the second half when they came down to shoot on the spectator end of the gym.
Now Daniel has had this habit of looking somewhat like a deer in the headlights during the first half of most of the games this year. Granted, he has only been playing basketball for two years now, and he has come an awful long way in the time he has played. The coach told us he has rarely ever let a second year player play, much less start, in games in the past. Daniel has practiced and practiced, and his size does not hurt either. But we have all been frustrated that it takes him a whole half usually to get rid of his nerves.
Plus, he is not a good dribbler. The coach has told him in no uncertain terms to only dribble when he has no other choice. His job is to pull down rebounds and block so that the skinny little good dribblers can use him as a screen to get around to the goal and score. He has been quite a useful player in that role this year.
So, on this particular night, things had been really ugly so far, and prospects for winning did not look good. Our crowd was quieter than usual, having been taken out of the game somewhat by the harshness of the play and the unusual officiating, or lack of it, that was being done. Nearly every player had hit the floor hard due to some sneaky move by the opponents. By the fourth quarter, battered and bruised, we were 15 points behind. The way they had played, it was a wonder we were not further down than we were. We were beginning to resign ourselves to going home to tell of a hard-fought near-win against our dear arch-rivals.
Then, the Red Bull kicked in.
It was like when Bill Bixby changed into the Incredible Hulk! We saw it in his eyes. Daniel got mad! And you know what happens when Bill Bixby/Daniel gets mad. He transforms. Except Daniel did not transform into the Hulk---he transformed into the Shaq!
Yep, right there before our eyes, my mild-mannered, too-polite-to-play-ball "baby" transformed into a basketball player. Woe be to that player that hit Daniel in a bad spot. In the next moments, he was up there grabbing rebounds and feeding them to his slightly-shocked teammates. As soon as the ball made it back across to the opposing team's side, he would steal it and send it on back down our way! When our point guard could not find a way in to the goal, Daniel would just take the ball, plow in, and shoot! The score began to tighten! The cry started going up---"Get it to Daniel, get it to Daniel!"
"Brother Lloyd," the man who announces our home games looked over and caught my eye. By now, Tim and I were both standing on the wall with a host of other cheering parents. "What has gotten into Daniel?" he asked with a huge grin.
He presumed it was "the spirit." I knew better. It was the Red Bull!
With every steal, every rebound, every field goal, the intensity in the gym mounted. The crowd was on its feet. The cheerleaders looked like they were lip-syncing, as they could not be heard over the roar. As we overtook the opposing team in scoring for the first time all night, an even louder roar went up. We just might win this one!
The opposing coach was livid. He told his players to turn it up a level. Our coach was on his feet, but for once, he was pretty speechless! I don't think that he could believe that Daniel was flawlessly executing all those plays that he draws on the clipboard while yelling at my blond son.
The officials stopped the game, put all ten players in a huddle and told them to settle down and quit being quite so physical. It was too late for that. Shaq was in the house!
Our team had new life, and with some of the prettiest playing I have seen in a long time, they moved ahead and won by 10 points. It was not just Daniel. The whole team was working like a well-oiled machine. Together, they managed to score 25 points that went nearly unanswered in the fourth quarter(only two points for the opposing team). By this time, the Baptists were sure that Tim and me (but especially me) had "gotten the spirit" too! I was jumping up and down like a school girl of 16 as Dan made play after play. Hannah and Sarah were delighted that their "old Mom" actually still had some life left in her. Tim was throwing in a few "That's my boy" 's.
It was a special night for me. Every parent needs at least one night like this in their life. For those of us that do not have super-athletes, it is fun when they have one game where everything goes right.
As I said, we have State Tournament in two weeks. We'll be there, carrying Daniel's stash of Red Bull. I think we just have to get him to drink it a little earlier--that's all! I'll keep you posted on whether or not there are any more Shaq sitings.
And who knows what could happen if Sam gets hold of a can of Red Bull. "Michael Jordan" just might show up at a high school game!
Wish us luck!
Saturday, February 05, 2005
A Note to my Blog-Readers
Just wanted to be sure and tell those of you that are coming here for the first time that all of the posts I have done this week may not show up on the same page, as some may be in the archive folder already due to space. I wanted to try my hand at posting pictures, and they take up a whole blog apiece. I have to learn how to add them to the posts so as not to have so many separate posts. I thought you might enjoy some pictures added in every now and then to break the monotony of all the words! So be sure to scroll on down past the pictures for the first post and the explanation of the Blog name, etc. O.K.?
I have also fixed it now to where you don't have to be a member here to reply to posts. I may regret this and have to change it in the long run, but I thought I would try it for a while.
O.K. That's it for now. I am going to bed now! Nite!
I have also fixed it now to where you don't have to be a member here to reply to posts. I may regret this and have to change it in the long run, but I thought I would try it for a while.
O.K. That's it for now. I am going to bed now! Nite!
You Win Some, You Lose More
Well, we just got back from Dan, Sam, and Micah's basketball game. It is a fun way to spend a Friday night. I am convinced that we live in a small microcosm far removed from the rest of the world in this new millennium. Let me explain.
A few years ago, we had just lived through what seemed like the worst series of national tragedies that anyone could imagine. Waco, Columbine, the Gulf War, 9-11---it seemed like televised, hellish scenarios just kept coming at all of us faster than we could emotionally or intellectually process.
On a personal level, going through a divorce and being left with 3 little boys to raise alone did not make my world seem any more secure, either.
By early 2002, I had remarried, but I was one nervous person when it came to the upbringing of my kids. I had gotten to the point that I did not want to send the three boys to public school any more for a number of reasons. We had been wrestling with situations like drunken, irresponsible bus drivers, complacent and incapable teachers, and the attitudes of our own kids who were so dissatisfied with the public school system that it was affecting their grades and their health. No one in this house was happy.
One by one, we pulled our three boys out of the public school system. We decided to try our hand at home schooling. It was an experiment with mixed results. The kids eventually decided that they thought that they liked the socialization that came from being with other kids. (In other words, it was boring being home with old Mom all day.) We also found that each child had a different learning style, and we were having a hard time hitting on a curriculum that suited all three.
When I became pregnant with Hannah in 2003, things went from bad to worse, and I eventually had to have both a c-section and a bowel obstruction surgery within a week of each other. The combination left me close to dead. I surely was in no shape to teach 3 lively boys.
In the fall of 2003, we decided that we would try something new. We put the older two boys in a little private school in town that used the American Christian Education (A.C.E.) curriculum and was Bible-based, obviously. Micah, the youngest boy, returned to a public school that was given big kudos by other friends and members of our community. We figured that he should not have the pressures yet that the older kids had experienced in public school with things like sex education and evolution crammed down their throats by godless teachers with anger management problems. Luckily, he got the teacher of his dreams, and he sailed through the year with flying colors.
We anticipated that we might have some problems with the private school, since most of the students and the administrators and teachers were Baptists and we were not. We voiced our concerns early on that we wanted our kids not to have to participate in anything that would violate their conscience, as we generally find that our values are more conservative than nearly anyone's these days. What we had no way of knowing was how close the standards of the school were to our own personal convictions about the way that young people should be educated and raised. In some ways, their practices were more conservative than those of our own brethren!
We were delighted to find early on that this school held up the highest of standards in dress and behavior, among other things. Young men dressed in collared shirts and young ladies wore skirts and dresses. Our boys regularly were called upon to memorize blocks of scripture and recite it. They were a little baffled as to why they had to work from the King James version of the Bible only, but I told them that they would not die. I had memorized from that translation all my life until the NKJV came along. When I helped them get their homework, I found that the text of the books reinforced principles from the Bible. It was nice to diagram sentences with Daniel that spoke of characters in the Bible. It was wonderful to see Creation taught the way the Bible reveals it. Special lecturers were brought in to further reinforce that we live on a young Earth--one that was created in 6 days a few thousand years ago---not an Earth that just happened to fall out of the galaxy several million or billion years ago. Again, it was funny to see the Baptists be "right on" about something that we cannot even agree upon in the church.
(Just an aside here. The other day, as a boy at the school worked in his lesson books, he read that some people profess that we come from monkeys. He raised his hand and asked the teacher if we came from monkeys. She told him to open his Bible and read Genesis chapters 1 and 2. Now what do you think a public school teacher would have told him? And even if he had been told the right thing, he surely could not have opened his Bible in class and read about it anymore!)
Perhaps one of the most delightful discoveries at this little school came when our boys made the basketball team. As we began to attend games, we found that modest dress was carried into the gym at this school as well. Our boys played ball in long sports pants and modest jerseys. The cheerleaders wore the cutest little dresses that covered their thighs clear down to the knee, and when they cheered, they cheered---not dancing and gyrating like so many of their contemporaries. They looked like cute little girls--not street-walkers. They conveyed innocence and school spirit--not sexuality.
As the team warmed up, and throughout the game, theme songs from 50's and 60's t.v. shows were played. It had been forever since I had heard the theme from Gilligan's Island or Mayberry played in a setting like that. There was no hard rock with lyrics to make you blush. The smell of funnel cakes and popcorn and hotdogs and hamburgers further served to make the atmosphere warm and inviting. Games started with a prayer, and men removed their hats. Young men shook hands with each other, the refs, and the opposing coaches before a ball ever bounced.
Our team was o.k but not spectacular. We won some games, and sometimes we lost. But it was o.k. Our boys were learning sportsmanship and skills that would take them into this year as better young men. Somehow, against all odds, we fought our way clear to the State Tournament for private schools and won it in our single A division. A little school with less than 100 students in grades K-12 had made it all the way!
So this year, Dan and Sam returned for their second year, and Micah joined them. All three tried out for the basketball team. We warned Micah that he should not get his hopes up, as they only had room for 15 players, and being in 5th grade and only 4' 8" tall, he might not "measure up." When the roster was complete, all three boys were VBA players! I have never been so proud to see all three of them out there shooting layups before the game---little Micah heaving them up twice as high as he is to sink them right along with the big boys. Daniel and Sam are such good big brothers, respecting the "little guy" that stands waist level on them as a fellow teammate.
I hesitate to sum up tonight's game by saying "We lost," as that is not entirely accurate. Daniel got out there and played the whole game without being pulled once, despite the fact that he had the flu and was doing well not to pass out the entire game. He "sucked it up" and gave his all against a team that has beaten college teams. In fact, half the team had a virus, and there were a lot of sick-feeling boys out there who "sucked it up" for the team. I don't think I have ever been more proud of Daniel on the court, because I knew how much it was costing him to be out there. In the end, the other team was 15 points or so ahead of us, and a lot of parents were left wondering if things would have been different if the flu had not ravaged us tonight. But none of us can leave too disappointed, because we are blessed people to have sons like ours whose character was probably built a little bit more tonight by losing than it would have been built by winning.
We'll see this team again at State in two weeks. They will probably be expecting the team they played tonight. We will have a few surprises for them, hopefully. The competitor in me would love to see this team take State again in Daniel's senior year. It is doubtful if he will play college ball, so this is it for him. Whatever happens, I am just enjoying the ride life is providing right here, right now in our own little Mayberry. And as Andy would say to Opie, I can say to each of my boys---- "I'm proud of you, son!"
A few years ago, we had just lived through what seemed like the worst series of national tragedies that anyone could imagine. Waco, Columbine, the Gulf War, 9-11---it seemed like televised, hellish scenarios just kept coming at all of us faster than we could emotionally or intellectually process.
On a personal level, going through a divorce and being left with 3 little boys to raise alone did not make my world seem any more secure, either.
By early 2002, I had remarried, but I was one nervous person when it came to the upbringing of my kids. I had gotten to the point that I did not want to send the three boys to public school any more for a number of reasons. We had been wrestling with situations like drunken, irresponsible bus drivers, complacent and incapable teachers, and the attitudes of our own kids who were so dissatisfied with the public school system that it was affecting their grades and their health. No one in this house was happy.
One by one, we pulled our three boys out of the public school system. We decided to try our hand at home schooling. It was an experiment with mixed results. The kids eventually decided that they thought that they liked the socialization that came from being with other kids. (In other words, it was boring being home with old Mom all day.) We also found that each child had a different learning style, and we were having a hard time hitting on a curriculum that suited all three.
When I became pregnant with Hannah in 2003, things went from bad to worse, and I eventually had to have both a c-section and a bowel obstruction surgery within a week of each other. The combination left me close to dead. I surely was in no shape to teach 3 lively boys.
In the fall of 2003, we decided that we would try something new. We put the older two boys in a little private school in town that used the American Christian Education (A.C.E.) curriculum and was Bible-based, obviously. Micah, the youngest boy, returned to a public school that was given big kudos by other friends and members of our community. We figured that he should not have the pressures yet that the older kids had experienced in public school with things like sex education and evolution crammed down their throats by godless teachers with anger management problems. Luckily, he got the teacher of his dreams, and he sailed through the year with flying colors.
We anticipated that we might have some problems with the private school, since most of the students and the administrators and teachers were Baptists and we were not. We voiced our concerns early on that we wanted our kids not to have to participate in anything that would violate their conscience, as we generally find that our values are more conservative than nearly anyone's these days. What we had no way of knowing was how close the standards of the school were to our own personal convictions about the way that young people should be educated and raised. In some ways, their practices were more conservative than those of our own brethren!
We were delighted to find early on that this school held up the highest of standards in dress and behavior, among other things. Young men dressed in collared shirts and young ladies wore skirts and dresses. Our boys regularly were called upon to memorize blocks of scripture and recite it. They were a little baffled as to why they had to work from the King James version of the Bible only, but I told them that they would not die. I had memorized from that translation all my life until the NKJV came along. When I helped them get their homework, I found that the text of the books reinforced principles from the Bible. It was nice to diagram sentences with Daniel that spoke of characters in the Bible. It was wonderful to see Creation taught the way the Bible reveals it. Special lecturers were brought in to further reinforce that we live on a young Earth--one that was created in 6 days a few thousand years ago---not an Earth that just happened to fall out of the galaxy several million or billion years ago. Again, it was funny to see the Baptists be "right on" about something that we cannot even agree upon in the church.
(Just an aside here. The other day, as a boy at the school worked in his lesson books, he read that some people profess that we come from monkeys. He raised his hand and asked the teacher if we came from monkeys. She told him to open his Bible and read Genesis chapters 1 and 2. Now what do you think a public school teacher would have told him? And even if he had been told the right thing, he surely could not have opened his Bible in class and read about it anymore!)
Perhaps one of the most delightful discoveries at this little school came when our boys made the basketball team. As we began to attend games, we found that modest dress was carried into the gym at this school as well. Our boys played ball in long sports pants and modest jerseys. The cheerleaders wore the cutest little dresses that covered their thighs clear down to the knee, and when they cheered, they cheered---not dancing and gyrating like so many of their contemporaries. They looked like cute little girls--not street-walkers. They conveyed innocence and school spirit--not sexuality.
As the team warmed up, and throughout the game, theme songs from 50's and 60's t.v. shows were played. It had been forever since I had heard the theme from Gilligan's Island or Mayberry played in a setting like that. There was no hard rock with lyrics to make you blush. The smell of funnel cakes and popcorn and hotdogs and hamburgers further served to make the atmosphere warm and inviting. Games started with a prayer, and men removed their hats. Young men shook hands with each other, the refs, and the opposing coaches before a ball ever bounced.
Our team was o.k but not spectacular. We won some games, and sometimes we lost. But it was o.k. Our boys were learning sportsmanship and skills that would take them into this year as better young men. Somehow, against all odds, we fought our way clear to the State Tournament for private schools and won it in our single A division. A little school with less than 100 students in grades K-12 had made it all the way!
So this year, Dan and Sam returned for their second year, and Micah joined them. All three tried out for the basketball team. We warned Micah that he should not get his hopes up, as they only had room for 15 players, and being in 5th grade and only 4' 8" tall, he might not "measure up." When the roster was complete, all three boys were VBA players! I have never been so proud to see all three of them out there shooting layups before the game---little Micah heaving them up twice as high as he is to sink them right along with the big boys. Daniel and Sam are such good big brothers, respecting the "little guy" that stands waist level on them as a fellow teammate.
I hesitate to sum up tonight's game by saying "We lost," as that is not entirely accurate. Daniel got out there and played the whole game without being pulled once, despite the fact that he had the flu and was doing well not to pass out the entire game. He "sucked it up" and gave his all against a team that has beaten college teams. In fact, half the team had a virus, and there were a lot of sick-feeling boys out there who "sucked it up" for the team. I don't think I have ever been more proud of Daniel on the court, because I knew how much it was costing him to be out there. In the end, the other team was 15 points or so ahead of us, and a lot of parents were left wondering if things would have been different if the flu had not ravaged us tonight. But none of us can leave too disappointed, because we are blessed people to have sons like ours whose character was probably built a little bit more tonight by losing than it would have been built by winning.
We'll see this team again at State in two weeks. They will probably be expecting the team they played tonight. We will have a few surprises for them, hopefully. The competitor in me would love to see this team take State again in Daniel's senior year. It is doubtful if he will play college ball, so this is it for him. Whatever happens, I am just enjoying the ride life is providing right here, right now in our own little Mayberry. And as Andy would say to Opie, I can say to each of my boys---- "I'm proud of you, son!"
Friday, February 04, 2005
Life and Life
I never forget the significance of a date---well, rarely ever. Tim is exactly the opposite. He rarely remembers what is special about any date. That is why we married on July the 4th. I figured that all those bombs bursting in air might trigger his memory each year and save him lots of forgotten anniversaries and thus, lots of lonely nights in the doghouse!
As the calendar turns and the clock ticks, I find myself once again at February the 4th. I cannot believe this date has rolled around again so quickly, because it was just February the fourth a few short days ago. Really.....
I remember.........
The year is 1973....My mother is pregnant with twins, but she does not know that yet. All she knows is that something is very different. She has a while til July. It is the week of our "gospel meeting"---what other people call revivals. It is a cold February night, the fourth day of the month, in the quiet little town of Franklin, Tennessee.
I am at church on a school night. James Cope is in town. He has been here all week delivering timely lessons about the home and family. It has been good to hear him every night. He is the president of the college where I want to go some day, in addition to being a gospel preacher. He is an accomplished orator and a respected Bible scholar. He goes long every night, but you don't notice or mind, because he is a captivating speaker.
I am 10 1/2 years old. I have been babysitting for about a year now for ladies in my neighborhood. I am mature for my age, I am told. I have something more on my mind than the lesson tonight. My conscience is tender, and I have waited as long as I can stand it to become a Christian.
I am not the only one with a heart that has been touched tonight. Roughly 16 others (if my poor memory serves me right) decide that tonight is the night to start a new life as well. My younger brother is also in this convicted group of believers. So is my best friend in the world, several of my classmates, and a future cousin by marriage! 7 others decide to rededicate their lives to the Lord. It is like nothing I have ever seen. I have heard that in the "olden days," it was not at all uncommon to baptize this many at one time. In 1973, people are not as worried about the state of their souls.
The song leader is doing his part. He has enthusiastically led number 598, "Lord, I'm Coming Home," all the way through, three complete times now--all six of the verses each time!
"Brother Joe---one more verse, please" the preacher calls. This continues one verse at a time until the penitents stop coming. Brother Rufus, the local preacher is ecstatic. He knew the fields were "ripe unto harvest," but he had no idea this many would be moved.
Boys to the left...girls to the right. We are sent to changing rooms, and the baptisms begin. Brother Rufus has become so overcome with emotion that he has forgotten to solicit a confession of Christ from each convert. So it must be accomplished in the baptistry now before the immersions. It all works out fine. It takes a while to dress and baptize 16 people. No one cares. There are a lot of happy parents in the crowd!
"Do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?" With each affirmation comes another plunging and another birth of a babe in Christ!
I end up somewhere towards the back of the girls line. I get stuck with a wet baptismal gown. It is cold, but it does not matter. This is the day I have longed for since I was at least 6 years old. My only sadness is that my father is not here to see my brother and me baptized. He is a lawman, and duty calls tonight.
Fast forward 31 years.
It is February 4, 2004. I am now 41 and the mother of five children. I never dreamed in 1973 when my mother gave birth to those twins, babies number four and five, that I would someday equal my mother's accomplishment in birthing. But I have, and as I remember the day when my sins were washed away, my baby number three is walking the aisle.
He doesn't know what day it is. I did not tell him the significance of February the 4th. He just happened to decide that this was the day he would start his new life. He has wanted to do this every since he was little bitty. We encouraged him to wait until he was old enough to understand what it means to die to your sins and live for the Lord.
As the calendar turns and the clock ticks, I find myself once again at February the 4th. I cannot believe this date has rolled around again so quickly, because it was just February the fourth a few short days ago. Really.....
I remember.........
The year is 1973....My mother is pregnant with twins, but she does not know that yet. All she knows is that something is very different. She has a while til July. It is the week of our "gospel meeting"---what other people call revivals. It is a cold February night, the fourth day of the month, in the quiet little town of Franklin, Tennessee.
I am at church on a school night. James Cope is in town. He has been here all week delivering timely lessons about the home and family. It has been good to hear him every night. He is the president of the college where I want to go some day, in addition to being a gospel preacher. He is an accomplished orator and a respected Bible scholar. He goes long every night, but you don't notice or mind, because he is a captivating speaker.
I am 10 1/2 years old. I have been babysitting for about a year now for ladies in my neighborhood. I am mature for my age, I am told. I have something more on my mind than the lesson tonight. My conscience is tender, and I have waited as long as I can stand it to become a Christian.
I am not the only one with a heart that has been touched tonight. Roughly 16 others (if my poor memory serves me right) decide that tonight is the night to start a new life as well. My younger brother is also in this convicted group of believers. So is my best friend in the world, several of my classmates, and a future cousin by marriage! 7 others decide to rededicate their lives to the Lord. It is like nothing I have ever seen. I have heard that in the "olden days," it was not at all uncommon to baptize this many at one time. In 1973, people are not as worried about the state of their souls.
The song leader is doing his part. He has enthusiastically led number 598, "Lord, I'm Coming Home," all the way through, three complete times now--all six of the verses each time!
"Brother Joe---one more verse, please" the preacher calls. This continues one verse at a time until the penitents stop coming. Brother Rufus, the local preacher is ecstatic. He knew the fields were "ripe unto harvest," but he had no idea this many would be moved.
Boys to the left...girls to the right. We are sent to changing rooms, and the baptisms begin. Brother Rufus has become so overcome with emotion that he has forgotten to solicit a confession of Christ from each convert. So it must be accomplished in the baptistry now before the immersions. It all works out fine. It takes a while to dress and baptize 16 people. No one cares. There are a lot of happy parents in the crowd!
"Do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?" With each affirmation comes another plunging and another birth of a babe in Christ!
I end up somewhere towards the back of the girls line. I get stuck with a wet baptismal gown. It is cold, but it does not matter. This is the day I have longed for since I was at least 6 years old. My only sadness is that my father is not here to see my brother and me baptized. He is a lawman, and duty calls tonight.
Fast forward 31 years.
It is February 4, 2004. I am now 41 and the mother of five children. I never dreamed in 1973 when my mother gave birth to those twins, babies number four and five, that I would someday equal my mother's accomplishment in birthing. But I have, and as I remember the day when my sins were washed away, my baby number three is walking the aisle.
He doesn't know what day it is. I did not tell him the significance of February the 4th. He just happened to decide that this was the day he would start his new life. He has wanted to do this every since he was little bitty. We encouraged him to wait until he was old enough to understand what it means to die to your sins and live for the Lord.
Micah's dad is not here either. But it is for different reasons. He left the Lord and me and Micah a long time ago. Micah was three months old then; now he is a month shy of 10. There is a lot of "water under the bridge" for me, but in some ways it seems like I just blinked and here I am. I hold to the hand of my husband of nearly 6 years and try not to cry as Micah is baptized.
The preacher who baptizes Micah tonight was visiting our church meeting the night I was baptized. He was a mere boy of 12 then. We did not know each other in 1973, but his cousin would eventually marry my cousin. He ended up performing the marriage ceremony for Tim and me in 1998. Ironies never cease.
It is funny where life takes us. One minute we are dead in sin and the next minute we are alive again in Christ. Praise God!
One day, our life seems over when we lose a mate or a parent or a job, but in some future increment of time, the good Lord gives us new life and breath with a new circumstance and new people to enrich our experience here on this earth.
One day, we think we are all through having babies, and we are kind of sad that we did not get the mixing of genders that we wanted. And then in a matter of a few short months or years, for some of us, more and unexpected babies come along! I had my three boys; I got my two girls with Tim.
I guess it is indeed true that as long as there is breath, there is life, and as long as there is life, there is hope.
In what seems like the blinking of an eye, it is 2005. Today I am spiritually 32, and my son is 1. I am well down the road of life, and he has just begun. Happy Birthday Micah, Doug, Janet, Tommy, and all the rest! It is a day for reflection, for remembering, and for rejoicing.
I am alive! And I am alive!
Thursday, February 03, 2005
This Roller Coaster We Call Life
Life.
(O.K., I can already hear my high school English teacher screaming at me that "one word does not a sentence make!) I beg to differ, dear Ms. Hofstetter.
I have to think that everyone around me is probably amused at one time or another by the degree of naïveté that I bring to the table! I guess that is a trait I inherited from my maternal grandmother. She never got jokes, but she pretended she did, and the expressions on her face as she tried to "get it" were funnier than the jokes themselves! I can't help being naïve, and I am actually a little proud that I don't have certain life experiences that would probably cure me of my "condition."
But I digress. Being naïve causes one to see life through glasses that not all wear. As a result, I think that sometimes I feel things more deeply than those whose glasses were shattered years ago.
Having said all that, I guess I am just constantly amazed at the highs and lows of our everyday lives. One minute, everything can be so good. The next, it can go to so very bad.
Nanny (my maternal grandmother) would tell me, if she were still with us, that a lot of life consists in how you look at things. And I guess she would be right about that. Do we see the glass as half-empty or half-full? ( I used to gag every time someone pulled out that analogy!)
When Tim, my husband, slipped on the ice on our porch and fell two days before Christmas, I have to tell you, my glass looked pretty empty! I mean, after all, I had just had my neck cut open eight days earlier, and nothing was done towards Christmas. (Big "I-told-you-so" for Mr. Great-at-the-last-minute!) My grandmother had just died, it was colder than kraut, and I had five sets of little and not-so-little eyes looking up at me (or down at me in the case of our six-foot-plus sons) silently inquiring as to whether Santa was going to make it this year or not!
But things always have a way of working out, and this year was no exception. Four frantic hours in the local mini-mall in the last possible shopping minutes til Christmas yielded sufficient booty to ensure that children were not going to be emotionally scarred this year.
However, much to my surprise, Providence has once again provided in a time when we seemed to rolling clear out of control on the ride of life.
I did not anticipate the benefits that would come from Tim having to work from home. He has gotten to spend "quality time" with the girls for the first time in a long time. Not having to drive three hours a day to and from work left him with some time to see all the cute things he usually misses. To anyone who knows Tim and how he loves his daughters, you would know what this has meant to him.
I have gotten to see the goodness of God in allowing Tim to heal from his injuries without surgery so far! Having torn all three of the major ligaments around his knee, this recovery seemed near to impossible in the beginning. I have also gotten to see the resolute strength that is in my husband--a quality which I have always admired in him. "The Little Engine That Could" has nothing on him.
And who could have foreseen that the transmission would die suddenly on one of our vehicles, leaving us in the dreaded "one-car" scenario---not too handy when your husband works an hour and a half away. Tim's fiasco has bought us time to deal with another of the wonderful little surprises that keep the gray matter perking, trying to find solutions to the puzzle we call "our life."
So I begin yet another day. I inhale, I embrace, I savor the up moments. I dread, I deplore, I despise the downs. I know that the "downs" probably refine us more than do the "ups," but the humanity in me cries out,"Let this cup pass." I pray for strength to endure more gracefully, to give thanks more abundantly, and to trust more perfectly, for after all, there is nothing more exhilarating than a good roller coaster ride!
In the beginning.....
I am constantly amazed at where technology is taking us. Eight short years ago, I had never had much exposure to a computer, much less the world wide web. I'll never forget how exciting it was to turn my personal computer on for the first time and experience the thrill of hearing Windows open for the first time. That familiar sound has become as close as an old friend.
It is like that with so many things in my life. I love what is familiar, but I long to learn new things too, lest I become stale. Hence....this blog!
I am fairly familiar with my computer now...where it can take me and what I can accomplish with it. But a blog is new terrain.
I have been told---no, strongly encouraged--by family members, friends, and even total strangers I meet on places like eBay that I should write for a living. I don't know when I would get any sleep if I added one more thing to my plate. I guess that as I begin this journey, I will just rearrange my responsibilities so that I can try my hand at putting my thoughts into writing. Maybe if this goes well, I will think about loftier projects.
Lately, my days have been full of coincidences and ironies....you know how it is. You think of someone and they call you out of the blue. You write an email as one comes in from the person you were just writing. You get a piece of news that answers a question you and your mate were just discussing. It has been like that all week. So tonight, when a good friend sent me the URL for her Blog, and I had just been discussing the possibility of blogs with my techno-husband, I took that as a sign that it is time to start a Blog of my own.
O.K. So I know you are wondering why the title, "Grit Gravy." Well, when I was a little girl, my favorite place to be was at my grandparents' house. My grandfather, affectionately known as "Cocky " (that's another blog) made the best gravy known to man. When I would awaken in the morning, I would be knocked backwards, as it were, by the unique and delightful blend of scents coming from the kitchen. The smell of baking biscuits (the real deal, not store-bought), perking coffee, and the gravy----oh, the gravy!----was just about more than one could process through the old olfactory organs!
Cocky claimed that the secret to his gravy was the grits. (Now grits are a food stuff known only to Southerners, apparently, because my Yankee love, alias husband-- Tim, had never really experienced the joy of grits before getting with me. Now Tim is truly a Southerner, because he has embraced grits with all the love of a Tennessee native!) But there was more than just grits in that gravy. It was surely a special blend of secret ingredients and a lot of love that went into that artery-clogging mix.
So, as I started this blog, I could not think of any better name for my mixture of thoughts and love than "Grit Gravy." By the way, my Cocky, my Nanny, my mother, my father, and my grandmother who recently passed--Mammaw--were all exceptional gravy-makers in their own right. This is dedicated to them--all those who threw something into the pot of my life and seasoned it all with love.
I also dedicate this to Tim---my husband and the love of my life---from your G.R.I.T.S. (girl raised in the South!)
To fulfill a dream, to be allowed to sweat over lonely labor, to be given the chance to create, is the meat and potatoes of life. The money is the gravy. As everyone else, I love to dunk my crust in it. But alone, it is not a diet designed to keep body and soul together.
Bette Davis (1908 - 1989), The Lonely Life, 1962
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I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.
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