We're Back!

Wow...what a week! Although I have just returned from a splendid family vacation to the Smoky Mountains, there has been a barrage of tragedy back home. Two friends (both men), one 32 years of age and the other 41, both collapsed and died. Neither had any warning and both had small children. There are two devestated families close to me right now. I also found out 3 days ago that my brother-in-law's mom, who is also a close friend of mine, is violently ill and has been diagnosed with lung cancer that has spread to the liver. The outlook doesn't look good. Many times during this vacation brought tears to my eyes, especially since it was wrought with photographic opportunities. Jackie is the one who helped me get my start in photog freelance, as many of you know. She is such a giving person, as is my brother-in-law, and the thought of that family experiencing any more pain (lost son to suicide a few years ago) is unbearable to me. Unfortunately, she is in a tremendous amount of physical and emotional pain at the moment, and I am powerless. This entire week's events have brought back several unpleasant memories for me where I have felt just as powerless, or even more so. My dad's battle with cancer when I was ten, witnessing my mom's heart attack, head injury and ensuing custody battle when I was eleven, my mom's battle with breast cancer twice, once in 1997 and then more severely in early 2002...all these have made me the anxious hypochondriac that I am today. However, I think they have also taught me more about human strength, the power of prayer and hope than anything else. Right now, as I listen to my husband practice playing the Mercy Me song "I Can Only Imagine" for the first funeral tomorrow, I am somewhat comforted. I may not find resolution today or tomorrow for these losses or for my past tragedies, but there is peace lurking in the vicinity. I just have to catch it.

Jackie's site

One Hot Mama...

The heat index is 114 degrees today! I mean, I am used to the Alabama heat since I have lived here all my life, but this is ridiculous!

My Daughter

Hallie is five years old and has short blonde hair, a little button nose and sweet brown eyes. Not only is she beautiful, she has a heart beyond her years. Fiercly loyal, extremely giving, very creative, affectionate, happy, responsible, nurturing, inquisitive, intelligent and deep...these are my daughter. Whenever I hear her playing with her brother I think to myself "She is going to be an amazing woman one day." She is, of course, a child and she still does childish things. I am not under the impression that she is perfect or that she will someday change the world. Like me, I think she will be content with just changing her world and those lucky enough to be a part of it. Fortunately, Randy, Ethan and I are. When I watch her caring for her brother, patting his cheeks or randomly kissing his head and telling him that she loves him so much..Or when she tells her daddy she wants to marry him...Or when she lovingly strokes my hair and says I am the prettiest mommy ever...Or when she prays "I love you and I like you, God"...I just can't take it all in. I know that I must simply step back, thank God, and watch as He continues forming her heart. I am in awe...not of what I have accomplished in my daughter, but what He has done in spite of our humanity. Is it divine spark or simply His way of reminding us that no matter how we may try, we cannot move away from what He longs to give us?

The love that I feel for my children...times infinity.

Imagery of the Skies

A cloudless night begats a romantic evening with my husband and his telescope.

Comedy of Errors

Have you ever had one of those events where you perfect a plan, only to have circumstances intervene and say "hey, not so fast!"? Today was a perfect day for boating. The kids were at my parents so we could get a chance to catch our breath. There were a few clouds, but nothing ominous. So, we packed a cooler, donned our swimsuits and headed down to the marina. When we got there, we were expecting it to be clean since we paid someone to detail it this week. For some unknown reason, this individual who will remain nameless only rinsed off the outside of the boat leaving the cockpit quite filthy. So, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. A few hundred spiderwebs and wasp nests later, we headed out. Our first stop was to fill up the gas tank. While sitting in the heat waiting for service, a marine policeman pulls up and says "Let's see your registration". Hmmm....now logically we would have put that on the boat months ago, but logic can be overrated, right? So, a citation later, we head out again, undeterred by these events. Well, we didn't get very far. Five minutes into our trip, the motor starts behaving very strangely. It's about this time we decide boating wasn't in the cards for us today. Disappointed but not ready to give up, we dock and decide to go home and swim. After spending a few hours in the Alabama heat for a boat trip that didn't happen, cooling off in the pool sounded beautiful. However, nature had other ideas, since a steady rain began falling when we turned onto our street. My husband and I looked at each other quietly for a few moments. "Okay" I said. "Do you think a nap would be a realistic possibility or am I just expecting too much from life?" After laughing for a few minutes, we did just that, and it felt soooooooooo good. And guess what? We awoke just in time to swim the evening away with Hallie and Ethan. Even though things didn't work out like we'd planned, I still had all day with my sweet husband and that in itself is good enough for me. Its hard to have a bad day when you are as blessed as we are. I suppose today was just a testament to that!

"Because It's Bro-o-ken..."

You know, its funny. When I bought the "Mr. Incredible" sandals for my 2 and a half year old son, my first thought was "Oh my gosh! They actually have his size! He's going to love these!". I had already been through the Disney store 4 or 5 times in an attempt to find something that A)Didn't have a princess on it, B)Wasn't made for an infant or a preteen, and C)Was actually included in the semi-annual sale. After deciding against a Buzz Lightyear telescoping sword and Incredibles' roller skates because they seemed like a sure trip to the ER, I bought the shoes. What did I actually get? Well, um...a trip to the ER.

It began innocent enough. I broke (pun actually is intended) out the shoes Monday afternoon as a reward for picking up his toys without being told for several days in a row. As he stomped around excitedly in the velcro-laden contraptions, I didn't have a worry in the world. I felt only a warm, motherly sense of accomplishment...I was protecting my child's feet from the elements and making him happy at the same time. A few hours and one tumble later while looking at my son's swollen ankle, it felt more like a cold sense of motherly failure. Hmmm, that sword with the cool telescoping action is looking pretty good right now. At least a Grade 1 concussion only lasts about 15 minutes.

Well, the 4 hour trip to the Emergency Room consisted of X-rays and a splint. The last 4 days have consisted of a frustrated toddler who wants to run and jump and a frustrated mom who also wants to run (away) and jump (off a bridge). Okay, the last part was a joke, but seriously, my left arm is about to fall off due to lugging my 30 pound child in it while I care for a 4 and 5 year old with the other. Well, it has gotten my creative juices flowing and I have said all this to announce that my next book will be entitled "101 Ways to Make Your Toddler Stay Seated and Happy" with chapters like "How to Integrate Pieces From 3 Different Puzzles to Make Your Self-Portrait" and "Snacks: How to Make Them Last for Hours". We will be selling them in all Pediatric Radiology Departments :)

Ethan is doing great and believe it or not, so am I! Hallie and Marshall have been so sweet and helpful. I love these kids!

Decoration Day

Just a poem I wrote about this southern ritual:

First published June, 2002..

Decoration Day dawns like any other
May day in Alabama. Strange…It seems
Those occupying space between reality
and its twisted sisters in some foreign,
yet detectable dimension would have
some perceived power over such events..
Their allegiance unknown, yet suspected
To fall with us, such stupid fools as those
Who go to make beautiful that which we
Fear and forget three hundred sixty four
Days a year…
So in the name of respect we take the
Floral tokens of our love to those who
Cannot see them except for what they are…
Death masquerading as beauty and doing
A damn good job, we lay our bribe at the feet
Of our precious protectors who slumber.
Trying to disguise what is waiting for us
Below the ground that is not so hard as
We think, the barrier between us softer
than we realize. Or are we merely planting
our garden in the most fertile ground we
can find; the only sowing that will surely
reap us all, where our ancestors exhale
their muddy regrets below the names we
Carry in our pockets engraved on plastic
That will last much longer than this flesh.
The land promised to us all yet wanted by none.
I put my ear to the crest of the tomb.
What is that stirring beneath the immortal
Stone? Reality or hope imagined?
One day discovery will belong to me.
One day, it will belong to you.

Copyright © 2002 Jana W. Younger

10-28-2004

In 1977 my parents divorced and my mother found herself in the difficult position of having to go back to work with a 3 year old child and a 4 month old baby. She knew she had no choice, but that didn’t make placing her young children in the care of someone else any easier. So, my mom began to pray fervently for an answer. Ovada Carr was the head of the nursery at our church. She was kind, gentle and understood small children in a way that made her irresistible to them. Every Sunday morning she would be in there, rocking other people’s babies so they could hear the sermon. So, it was only natural that she came to mind when my mom was thinking of her options. You see, my mom didn’t just want someone to see that our needs were met and that we were unharmed. She wanted someone who would love us, nurture us, and in effect mother us. So, even though it was unlikely that someone who was already so dedicated to children would want to keep 2 more 30 hours a week, she decided to ask her anyway…so she did. Ovada said she was flattered that she thought of her and that she would think about it. I don’t think my mom was very hopeful that she would answer in the affirmative, but she prayed that she would. Well, as you may have already guessed, she did and thus began my relationship with the first people, other than my family, that I loved…and boy did I ever. Of course love is not a tangible thing, but there is one object that is the perfect evidence of my devotion to these people. It was just an ordinary Olan Mills picture in a little gold frame, but to my little 1 year old hands it was the perfect piece of love for me to hold on to. I carried it around with me so much that over the years, it became practically unrecognizable, but I never forgot who it was. How could I? You never forget someone who feeds you, changes you, plays with you, helps you learn to walk, lets you help in the garden, sits next to you while you attempt to “fish” in a ditch, fixes you honey with just the right amount of lemon juice, buys you your first tricycle and bicycle and is there for every birthday, Christmas, Halloween and every other major life event? No, I will never forget Ovada and Willard Carr, not only for the 4 years that they cared for me as a small child, but also for the part they played in my life long after that. I will always love them both not just as family, but as the closest kind there is.

Ovada passed from us this Thursday morning, October 28th. I know heaven is a better place, but this earth is less without her and this earth is where I am right now.

I miss you and love you.

Jana

Yeah...what he said! 

Henry sure had a way with words... 

Finding Nemo in a Haystack

Ahhh...the excitement threshold of a toddler. Wouldn't it be great to achieve nirvana over the sighting of an orange and white fish? Well, it's just as much fun (maybe more) seeing your little boy get there.
We had originally planned an extended family vacation to the Gulf of Mexico this weekend. However, Ivan had other plans. After logging on to weather.com every five minutes and searching for a reason to hope, we finally decided to change direction and head north to Chattanooga, Tennessee. A much shorter ride in the car and essentially a much shorter duration of "100 Best Loved Kids Songs" was a nice way to start. We arrived just in time to visit the Tennessee Aquarium where we all had a blast watching Ethan recite the entire script of "Finding Nemo". No, really...I'm serious.
Today we went to the Tennessee Valley Railway. It was a very cool exhibit. We even got to ride in a vintage 1930's train. Once again, Ethan was in heaven. Donning an engineer's cap, he entertained everyone with his reenactment of his favorite "Thomas the Tank Engine" stories. I have to admit, and I know I am a little biased, but he is the cutest, smartest, sweetest, most precious little boy I have ever seen. Our trip comes to an end tomorrow, but it has been a welcome retreat from reality. I will, however, be ecstatic to see Hallie (my 4 year old daughter) tomorrow. It just hasn't been the same without her!

Me Time...

"Me Time"...it's a concept perfectly alien and incredibly desirable to a mother of small children. Not that I don't get a few stolen minutes every now and then, like running to the grocery store for a forgotten onion in soup-splattered sweats after my husband gets home from work. However, it is not exactly what I would call revitalizing. It's more like a workout involving produce. "Me time" is something we dream about while wearing our hubby's t-shirts sporting spit up and Enfamil (hey, if it dries before you change, why bother?) and during attempts to shower while your toddler redecorates your bathroom in a Charmin/H2O motif. It usually involves a steaming mug of caramel machiatto, the latest issue of Cosmo, and a low-carb danish all while you're wrapped up in some incredibly sexy and stylish, yet comfortable, outfit in a size 8 or less. Sounds great, huh? Of course "Me Time" varies from person to person and even from mood to mood, but it's always there, this entity awaiting you sometime in the future, enticing you to just hang on.
So, on that first day of "school", after taking a zillion pictures of your kids grasping their new lunchboxes on your front porch and peeling your toddler off your shirt, you find yourself sitting in your car and all of a sudden, it hits you. This is the moment you have been waiting for for two years. There are no restrictions on what you can do for the next four hours. A smile crosses your face as you drive on over to Barnes and Noble. About halfway there, however, you realize you are not wearing a new outfit...just your Gap blue jeans and that shirt with the mystery stain you consider "hidden" in the seam. "Oh well" you tell yourself, "I'll go shopping next time." As you read the menu in the Starbucks section you do your best to order like a professional, realizing too late that there is no such thing as a "medium". You blush a little and smile, laughing off your ignorance and silently wondering when drink sizes began being measured in height. Eventually you settle in with your coffee and magazine, ready to begin the process of depressurization. As you begin to read all about what men wish you knew about sex and the newest way to work out your Kegels, you wonder if your toddler has settled down and whether or not your 4 year old is making new friends. Suddenly, learing how to achieve multiple orgasms in the middle of a national chain bookstore starts to lose its appeal. You realize you are trying to recapture something that has no chance of resurrection. It's like attempting to recreate kindergarten in college. Dick and Jane were fascinating when you were five, but they can't be the topic of your graduate thesis. Gradually, you put the magazine back and walk out, carrying your "tall" cup of coffee with you. As you drive on home, your favorite Dave Mathews song comes on the radio and you roll down your window, letting your hair blow out the window along with your expectations.
The next time Mother's Day Out rolls around, you make your own coffee and curl up on your couch with a book, write in your journal, or browse the aisles at Target. At 12:30, you walk into the preschool eagerly anticipating your children running to you with their arms open, ready to hear all about fingerpainting and the new sandbox. You have had a few hours to yourself and in that time you have rediscovered who that self is. Without me, "Me Time" is nothing but time.

Besides, you have been having multiple orgasms for years.

Ethan's first day of Mother's Day Out...1 year, 9 months of age