Inner Conflict...

Whoa, is it almost Thursday already or what? I can't believe how fast the days are flying. Of course, it helps when you have a lot on your mind. This week has been spent oscillating between two schools of thought. "Yes, I definitely want to send Hallie to Christian school" and "No, that's crazy! Why spend an extra $4000 and drive over the mountain 4 times everyday just to avoid a 1:25 student-teacher ratio." Well, right now I am decidedly in the middle of the road on this one. I visited an open house at a private school on Monday after learning that they'll be rolling out the portable classrooms (i.e. trailers) in the Fall and have no plans in the works to build anything. As of now, 4 of the third grade classes are meeting in the middle school and there are 20 pupils in my daughter's kindergarten class...4 more than should be there. With over 200 new students expected next year, we could be looking at 25 students in each of the 7 first grade classes.

This school is awesome in so many ways, which is the reason so many people are moving here and overcrowding it. The education is top-notch (you should see the test scores) the facilities are awesome and new, and the parent involvement is unbelievable. Field trips usually have just as many parents as kids, and so many parents are stay-at-home moms that the pick up line in the afternoon backs up almost two miles and takes over half an hour to go through. I have been very pleased with Hallie's teacher this year. She is very sweet and Hallie has learned so much. She can tell time, count money, add, subtract, and reads on a first grade level. I can't complain about the academics at all. I just worry about my daughter being pushed aside next year and not getting the attention she needs because the frazzled teacher cannot handle the pressure. Hallie is so well behaved that she is the type who could be overlooked in that kind of environment. I don't want that. I also can't dispute the impact of a Christian environment and the positive affects it would have on her character. On the other hand, I don't want her cut off from the friends she has here...the ones she sees at church and in the neighborhood. How could I take her away from Rachel and Shelby? Aaaaargh.

I just don't know what to do. This is really stressing me out. Suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

Other things going on...I am going to be on the small screen again. I will be doing a piece on the World Business Review about navigational software. I am racking up quite the filmography...ha ha.

Hanging On...

Ugh. I am currently on my third antibiotic since my daughter started kindergarten this year. So far I have had tonsilitis, strep throat, a stomach virus and now a sinus infection. I am not the type to overuse antibiotics, either. Oh well. I guess it's to be expected. I am at that school all the time.

Well, my hubby's appointment went okay. He does have to see a specialist on Monday and then have some tests. Thankfully our internist doesn't think it's serious, but because of family history, he has to rule some things out. Thank you for all your prayers and please continue to remember him. He is pretty nervous about it.

Other than our illnesses, things have been going great. I have to share something very cute and funny my son said tonight. He and his dad were in the playroom with all the lights out watching the lightning out of the bay window. Whenever the sky would light up, Ethan would say "It's like morning" or "that was a good morning". When a particularly heinous strike split the sky, he said "Wow, that was good morning like pancakes with syrup!" When a little one showed up, it was just morning "like Cheerios". Is that funny or what? He's just 3 years and 2 months and he already knows opposites, rhyming words and letter sounds. He is amazing. I have nicknamed him "Sunshine" because he is so bright and energetic and loving. He has a killer smile and big blue eyes. He pretty much has us all wrapped around his finger, especially daddy. Those are two peas in a pod if there ever were. I sure do love my "men", and of course, my little girl is second to none and I sure do miss her right now!

Oh, and speaking of cute kids, Sunday is my stepson's birthday, so Happy Birthday to Marshmallow!

My Man...

Well, I am not doing very well today. I am scared, worried and just generally anxious. The object of all this is my husband. He has been having some symptoms for a while now and I finally got him to make an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow morning. While I know that there is probably nothing seriously wrong, I can't help but worry. He is the type of person who just puts so much pressure on himself in pretty much everything and this stress is beginning to affect his health. Although he's not old, he is a 45 year old man who owns his own business, spends 8 hours a week on music for our church, and is still a very involved and loving father/husband. All of this adds up to a very demanding life, especially when you give 110% in everything you do. My main concern right now is not a heart problem or colon cancer, although my OCD mind is struggling with that. I just want to do everything I can to make life less stressful for him and I'm not sure how. Music is extremely important to him, not to mention his ministry, so that has to stay. He's in the office from 8:00 to 5:00, hardly taking time to eat until he gets home. He sits in front of a computer all day and the only exercise he is getting is playing with the kids when he gets home. He is very good at coming home and focusing on his family, but I know that all the worries are still inside him. After the kids are in bed is our time to be together to talk and relax. I know this helps, but I just wish I could do more. I know I will feel better when he sees the doctor and has all these tests done. Right now I am just focusing on taking care of him because I know that is what he needs. I took him a healthy lunch to the office today (soup, whole wheat crackers and fruit). I am going to try to do that often. I fully intend to pamper him when he comes home. He works so hard for us and is such a giving man. I just want to do the same for him. He is the most important person to me in this world and I need him to be healthy.

O.K., I guess that is enough of my freak flag for this post. I'll let you know how it goes. Oh, and if you're wondering if I am going to give up blogging, well, that ship has sailed! (i.e. no!)

Please Pray for Hannah

I have been meaning to post this link for a while now and I keep forgetting. This is the website of a precious teenager named Hannah who was in a car accident almost 2 years ago. She survived, but with brain damage and is now in a semi-vegetative state. She recently began to laugh and give consistent responses, but is still not able to sit up or speak. She is from my hometown and home church and, thankfully, is a strong Christian. Her family loves her very much and will do whatever necessary, but they miss their daughter terribly and so much want her healed. Please say a prayer for Hannah!

Thank you so much for your comments, concerns and prayers. It is my hope and belief that God will heal this young woman.

Daddy's Girl

Have I ever mentioned that I am a daddy's girl?

Love ya, dad.

The Next Step

Feeling strange today...I am thinking of giving up the blogging thing. I just don't feel like I have enough time to make it constructive and there are limits to what I can post due to restrictions on poems and stories pending publication. I just don't know if it's worth it. I really feel like no one cares what I write on here anyway. Other than a few lurkers and loyal readers, I am not really doing much with this thing. I am not under the impression that any of you care about Lincoln Log littered floors and my kid's insatiable appetite for fruit roll-ups, or about the tiny little chocolate cake my daughter and I baked in her oven today. Why would anyone really be interested in my valentine window clings or my husband's puppy dog eyes? Let's face it, no one is. I just can't believe that this is worth the time I am putting into it. I read other people's blogs and several of them have all these readers and comments and I am just thinking, okay, what did these people do? Lease a billboard or something? Oh well, we'll see. I guess this just isn't what I thought it would be.

Oh, and even though I know none of you care, I am reading a book by Dr. Laura of all people. It's called "The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands". It's a great book. It really validates what I've always said about marriage. Ha, there are a few people I'd like to send a copy to... anonymously, of course.

Signing off now...if I don't come back, thanks for reading this far anyway.

I'm Still Here...

Well folks, no, I haven't dropped dead nor am I in a coma, but I have been horribly sick for several days with the stomach flu. Just imagine all that usually encompasses, add on a few extra days of misery, and voila! That's where I've been. I am recovering, but still lightheaded, weak and about 6 pounds lighter than where I started. So far, no one else in the fam has come down with it, so here's hoping and praying they don't. Oh, and I never, ever want to eat capellini primavera again. Ever. Okay, that's about all I can do for now. I hate that I had to miss church today, especially since my hubby sang/ played a wonderful song. I'll end this entry by pasting in the words to it. It's beautiful.

Rest my child
your safe right here
close your eyes
I see those tears
and I know
how your heart grows tired
of life and its trials

please lie down
still your mind
quiet all your thoughts
and you will find
even though
you're an imperfect child
you're still mine and I love you

Lord I'm just scared and I feel unprepared
and sometimes I just feel like I'm wandering around
and the night feels so cold and my sin grows so old and I
do what I don't want to do
help me hide where I long to abide in the shelter of your love

Hush my Child
fall into my arms
I'll gi ve you rest right where you are
yes I know, you feel lost and alone
let me hold you
how i love you

Lord I'm just scared and I feel unprepared
and sometimes I just feel like I'm wandering around
and the night feels so cold and my sin grows so old and I
do what I don't want to do
help me hide where I long to abide in the shelter of your love

Rest my child
and trust in me
i'll give you life
and everlasting peace
don't you know
from long before time
you have been mine
and I love you

My TV Debut...

Well, today should be interesting. I am actually going to be filming an infomercial this afternoon. Is that hilarious or what? Eight months ago, I had Lasik surgery to eliminate my need for corrective lenses of any kind. I had been wearing glasses/contacts since 5th grade, and for the last five years my eyes could no longer tolerate contacts. My eyes actually began rejecting the foreign body in my eyes and I developed an allergy. Since I hate wearing glasses, I decided to investigate the surgery. When our friend who is a doctor had it done, I decided it was time. So, I had it done and it was amazing. Not only did it not hurt (mildly uncomfortable) but it was over so fast. I will never forget waking up that afternoon at home and being able to see the digital clock for the first time. Ah, the freedom! I no longer have to pack burdensome bottles of cleanser and disinfectant. My eyelids no longer adhere to my eyeballs after 6 p.m. I know longer have to touch my eyeballs every morning and night. It's wonderful.

Okay, well, that was good practice for giving my testimonial this afternoon on camera. Are you convinced? Are you ready to call and make an appointment right this minute? I can't believe I am actually doing this. Anyway, at least it will only be airing on local cable channels in the middle of the night right after the Bun "n Thigh Roller and Dr. Ho's Muscle Massage. At least, that is my sincere hope.

My Daughter's Birthday...

Warning: Don't read this if you're squeamish!

Six years ago today I was in my 24th hour of labor. As a 23 year old who had been married for 3 years, I thought I was ready. I had always felt years beyond my literal age emotionally and I thought, as I did when I accepted a proposal at 19, that I could handle anything that life threw my way. Finishing college while managing a home 60 miles away from school, 300 miles away from any family or friends, and figuring how to be an army officer's wife was not easy, but I managed. After a 6 month "break" from college beginning 5 days after my wedding which included moving to western Oklahoma (which in and of itself was horrifying since I had lived in one house all my life and never been west of the Mississippi)with nothing more than a car full of china, flatware and several sets of sheets, I still graduated a quarter early from my beloved Auburn 3 years later. Even though I loved school, I was ready for whatever lay beyond it, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wanted a child. Being caught in a loveless marriage will do that to you. Of course, I realize now that's not the best motivation for conceiving, but being young and envisioning the life of bland loneliness that stretched before me, I needed a child to love and care for. So one month after graduation, I saw that famous second blue line in my bathroom and I suddenly had all the excitement I could handle.

From the beginning it was a difficult pregnancy. I bled for the first 3 months and endured the coldness of the military medical system infamously known for "do it yourself" medicine. Of course, I endured it, for the most part, alone. My husband at the time was in the 3rd infantry division which basically meant he was gone 6 months out of a year. At 28 weeks, while he was in the middle of a desert halfway around the world, I went into premature labor. Terrified at spending my first night ever in a hospital, the only people I had to rely on were other the other wives who understood without being told exactly what needed to be done. From these angels, I came to know 2 of the best friends (other than Sally, of course) I have ever known. I credit my ability to endure and remain sane with God and with them.

For the next 3 months, labor would start and after a visit to the hospital and IV medication, it would stop. It was an emotional roller coaster. More than anything, I wanted this baby girl to be healthy. Finally, on the night of January 9th, my visit to the hospital found me to be 3 and half centimeters. I was sent home to wait until I was four. I spent that night walking around the block. I probably made 20 or more trips around Austin Loop in Ft. Benning, GA. The next morning at 6 a.m. it was time to go. Things weren't too bad at first. I have a pretty high pain tolerance and had no medication until I was 6 and half centimeters. At this point, I knew I should get an epidural if I wanted one at all. The epidural itself was nothing, and it did give some relief, even if it was only on one side of my body. The problem was that it halted my labor. So, of course Pitocin was given to speed things along.

Around 9 p.m. after 25 hours of labor, I was fully dilated. It was time to push. I was ready, baby. Exhausted and nervous, I wanted to get started. My family doctor, who was also an angel of mercy, was there. I pushed, and pushed, and pushed....and pushed. Nothing. No movement, no descent. Dr. Clark had tried to prepare me for a C-section since he said I had the "smallest pelvis he'd ever seen". So, after 3 and half hours of merciless pushing and screaming (Oh yeah, they had turned the epidural off hours ago for "incentive".) that's the route we were ready to take. Enter Dr. K. A woman who, if she has a heart, it isn't palpable, being the OB on call who didn't like C-sections. At all. I remember hearing Dr. Clark begging her to prep me for the OR. Nothing doing. Apparently, 3 and half hours of pushing with no progress meant she should try forceps instead. Now being young and in so much pain that I was ready to accept use of a tow truck if necessary, I didn't' know any better. I figured she knew what she was doing. So, after setting up the forceps and counting to three, I pushed as hard as I could. The next few moments are a little blurry in my mind, but I remember the blood. I remember Dr. K getting drenched in it, and I remember the tears in Dr. Clark's eyes. The pain, mercifully, has been etched away from my mind. I remember looking over at my daughter and then people began to rush around. Fast. I needed emergency surgery. A mask was on my face. An anesthesiologist was telling me everything would be okay. Then blackness.

Three and half hours later, I awoke. The force of the forceps had caused severe lacerations and blood loss. My pelvis had cracked. I had more stitches than someone who had a Cesarean. I sat and waited. Waited to see my baby girl. Hours passed. Several residents and interns came to see me. A few colonels with very serious expressions whispered in the hallway. Four hours after my surgery I was finally loaded into a wheelchair and taken to the nursery. My baby was hooked up to more machines than I was. Her oxygen level had dropped and they were giving her antibiotics through an IV as she laid under an oxygen hood. I couldn't hold her, but I will never forget holding her tiny hand and watching her chest move up and down. After a few minutes, I asked "Do you hear that?" and I was gone. The next thing I remember is a nurse pushing me down the hall so fast that I thought I was for sure dying. But no, apparently that is protocol when people pass out.

The next few days were an odyssey of pain, both physical and mental, and joy. Although my body was a mess (fever spike on day 2, constant IV pole went with me everywhere. I named it "Slim") and I passed out daily, I was enamored of my little girl. When we brought her home 4 days later, I couldn't believe how good she was. She hardly ever cried and she slept through the night after only 6 weeks. She was also beautiful. I have always loved babies, but this was the most wonderful experience in the world. Although I had to go back to the hospital twice for complications and I didn't fully recover for a year, up to that point in time, it was the best year of my life. My husband was gone two weeks after she was born and for 4 months out of her first year, so it really was just me and her. Every day was a miracle and she was my pride and joy.

So much has happened in the last 6 years...A divorce that was long overdue, marrying the love of my life, the birth of my precious son, but my daughter is still the sweet little "baby" girl she was then. Her heart is one of immeasurable kindness and she amazes me everyday. This family is my purpose. They are the realization of my dreams. So, I thank God for this opportunity. I thank Him for my daughter. I thank Him for my son. Most of all, I thank Him for my husband who took Hallie's hand and heart four years ago and become her daddy. The one who tucks her into bed. The one who reads to her and acts silly with her. The one who plays with her everyday. The one who has been there for every dance recital, soccer game and bad day.

Thank you, Randy, for being the husband, father and man of my dreams...and

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HALLIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Curse of the Curls

Okay, I am going to rant about something completely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but since I just finished my 2 hour hair straightening marathon, I really have a strong desire to share it with you lucky readers. If you have straight hair, thank our Maker now. If you have ever complained about how fine and limp it is and how it just won't hold curl, slap yourself right now and then resume reading.

I was born with no hair at all. For the first two years of my life, my parents heard "what a handsome little boy you have", regardless of the lacy dress and the bow my mother toothpaste onto my head. Yes, she actually did. Then after my second birthday blond curls started growing. Not only was I the only blond Watson (lots o'cherokee blood) but I was the only curly head in my household, having received it from my father (thanks, dad) who didn't live with us and who had started losing his hair by the time I made my debut anyway (He was 37 and balding, yet still incredibly handsome). The curls weren't so bad then. My hair was still rather short and they just sort of arranged themselves. It was a little later when my hair got long and coarse that it got scary. It looked pretty until my mom had my waist-long hair chopped off in second grade. Then it was...well, never the same. Of course, it only got worse when puberty came knocking. Yep, it got even curlier. In seventh grade, I thought getting it cut a inch from my scalp would help. It didn't. Growing it out, however, lent educational experiences in various forms of gel, mousse and how to shake off being called "helmet head" in the midst of middle school which in and of itself is comparable to purgatory.

Finally by high school, I had resigned myself to my fate and learned, more or less, how to do my hair. Looking back, I fondly refer to my style as the "swoopty-do". After drying my curls, I brushed the front over to one side and caught it with a barrette. I then spent great portions of the day pulling my long hair over one shoulder in an effort to keep it out of my face on the side minus the barrette. Hence, the swoopty-do. It really didn't look too bad for the times (early to mid nineties, well, you know) but I was only one of two girls in my entire high school (about 700 people) with naturally curly hair. I know, that doesn't seem statistically logical to me either, but it was true. Since the big hair of the 80's had been replaced with sleek, shiny hair curled with a curling iron (admit it, you had one), I suppose my hair lent a mysterious aspect to my persona, not that I really needed any help in that department. People would tell me "Oh, your hair is so beautiful, I would love to have your curls" and "It must be so nice to just wash it and go". Um, it wasn't...and isn't...and I am certain if anyone had traded hair with me it would've been extremely short-lived.

Well, enter the late nineties, that stupid "Friends" haircut that everyone wanted (me included) and my introduction to straightening lotions and flat irons. Where had these ingenious inventions been during my high school career? At first, I was just happy to have "straight" hair. A few years later when my daughter was born, the time consuming process was a little annoying. After my son was born, it was like "I have hair? Oh yeah." and now I fall into the category of "%@*%&#*...I have to wash my hair tonight". Yes, I have very dry hair and can go a day without washing it. These are my happy days. Ah, an hour and a half of free time. What shall I do? Read a book? Fold laundry? Blog? Pinning that hair up and taking a shower without having to shampoo it, condition it, brush it, put the straightener in it, flip head over, dry the underneath, flip head back over, dry a section at a time with a round brush so big it could (and has) double as a back scratcher, using hair clip apply Biosilk and iron a section at a time, and finally having the hair I desire....is wonderful. However, on nights like tonight, I begrudgingly give in to the desire to have what God did not bestow upon me and I punish myself with a 2 hour work out that raises my core body temperature 5 degrees and leaves my arms completely numb...but, my hair is straight. The thing that has eluded me most of my life is within the realm of reality for about 24-48 hours, depending on the relative humidity.

Ah, you are saying to yourself, "No one is forcing her to do this, why isn't she just happy with the hair she has?", and you're right...sort of. Maybe one day I will stop this insanity and just let my hair do it's electric-outlet-shocking thing for all the world to see. Until then, though, the madness will continue. Why?

Well, I'll let you know when I do.

Not a Problem...

Hey Jana! Wipe that sheepish grin off your face. You are one of my most loyal readers and you have the coolest name on the planet. Thanks for being the one of two people who actually comment on my random thoughts. Keep it up! It makes me feel like at least one person is listening. We frustrated writers have to stick together!

Besides, you're not the one who accessed my blog 12 times yesterday. I know who that was, and they need to get a life!

Lexapro, anyone?

I always do this in January. Christmas is over, my stepkids have gone home, the weather is crap, and my daughter will be going back to school...I'm still not quite used to her being gone until 2:30 everyday. Spring, of course, is months away. Call it what you want, but it feels like depression to me. Not to mention Auburn got stomped today in the Capital One Bowl. I caught the last half waiting at the airport with A, and it wasn't pretty. Oh well, what do I care about Wisconsin. I don't know anybody from Wisconsin. Anyway, the worst part of today was saying goodbye to A and watching her walk through security until she was out of sight. It's really difficult to have these kids live so far away. We practically have to pry her off of us and onto the plane. Geez, I can't think about this right now. It's just too much.

Well, sorry this post is so dreary. I'll get over all this, it just takes a little time. Happy New Year, everybody!

Happy New Year...almost!

I trust everyone had a wonderful Christmas and has big plans to ring in the new year! We had the best Christmas ever. I say that every year, but it's true! After spending Christmas Eve with my parents, we came back and stayed up til 2 a.m playing Santa and googing around with the teenage girls. We finally had to send them to bed so Santa would set out their gifts. Christmas morning was awesome, even though we had to drag the older girls out of bed at 7:00. The kids were thrilled with their gifts and sat patiently and attentively through the reading of Jesus's birth. I had prepared Christmas dinner alone this year, and even though it was a lot of work, it was definitely worth it! The last several days have been all about my 16 y.o. stepdaughter whom I adore. There just aren't many kids like this one. She and I bonded immediately 4 years ago and have been very close ever since. She became a Christian here a couple of years ago and since she isn't able to attend church at home, we always have lots of things to talk about. We have all had a blast hanging out and I shudder to think she has to leave in a couple of days.

Well, New Year's Eve for us will involve ordering pizza and watching movies with our kids. At midnight, of course, we will watch the ball drop, exchange kisses and hope the kids sleep til ten the next day.

Happy New Year!!!!

Merry Christmas to All!!!

I just wanted to say to all my readers (especially those who comment!).....Have a wonderful, inspiring Christmas and please take the time to say a prayer of thanks to our Lord for His "inderscribable gift" this season!

Titles Are Overrated

Um, has it been like, forever since I wrote something meaningful and inspiring? Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I can't seem to get past the events of the holidays. This is my fave time of year, but these last few days (a.k.a. crunch time) is when I start to get a little freaked out. I will get over it by Christmas Eve, but right now I am just wondering, what if everyone hates their gifts? Did I forget anyone? In my wrapping of about 70 + gifts, have I somehow mislabelled anything? Will there be a turkey left in Publix if I wait til Friday in an attempt to get a fresh, never frozen variety? Will the dressing turn out okay? Am I doing enough baking, decorating, etc. to make wonderful memories for the kids? Will all the flight schedules stay in place in my brain so no one will miss a plane? Most importantly, will the children who are now sick be well by Christmas? One threw up several times this morning and one now has a hacking cough and fever. Thankfully, not the same one. Okay, well, I had a single glass of wine this evening with dinner and now I can hardly type. Can we say low tolerance?

Okay, now I just have to vent about a few things in the media, so bear with me...

Intelligent design banned from schools? Don't even get me started.

" When challenged by skeptics to prove the existence of a Creator scientifically, Dr. Wernher Von Braun, the "Father of the American Rocket and Space Program," said, "Must we really light a candle to see the Sun? The electron is materially inconceivable, and yet it is so perfectly known through its effects that we use it to illuminate our cities, guide our airliners through the night skies and take the most accurate measurements. What strange rationale makes some physicists accept the inconceivable electron as real, while refusing to accept the reality of a Designer on the ground that they cannot conceive of Him? The inconceivability of some ultimate issue (which always will lie outside scientific resolution) should not be allowed to rule out any theory that explains the interrelationship of observed data and is useful for prediction." [1] To simply dismiss the concept of a Creator as being unscientific is to "violate the very objectivity of science itself." [1] While we may not be able to comprehend knowledge of a Creator, we certainly can apprehend it. "


1. Originally published in Edward F. Blick's Special Creation vs. Evolution, 1988, pp. 29-31.

Enough said, thank you.

Just Checking In...

If you're missing me, I can be found under a gigantic pile of wrapping paper, ribbons and baked goods...a little delirious but happy.

Tomorrow is our church small group (who is like family) party. I can't wait! Besides the fellowship and food, we get to play "Dirty Santa" which is always fun. Each couple brings one good gift and one gag gift, so you never know what you'll wind up with. Last year Randy and I came home with a beautiful angel candle holder and a baseball cap with reindeer antlers on top. I can't wait to see who winds up with our gag gift this year. You never know when a Shrek Chia Pet will come in handy!

Ha! Hallie has been begging to open a gift for weeks and I just told her she could open one when her stepbrother is here next week. She just informed me that I am the best person in the world, other than God and Jesus. Is that funny or what?!

By the Way...

If you've been wondering where my title and background went, you're not the only one!

I guess I better do some work on my template.

Sweet and Sour

Well, today has been a mixture of emotions. It's very cold (25 last night) and my son woke me up at 4 a.m. coughing his head off. So, I went upstairs and sat up with him for a while and finally crawled into bed at 5:30. When the alarm went off an hour later, I had only slept a total of 4 hours. So my husband told me to go back to sleep and he would get Hallie up and take her to school. I drowsily and gratefully agreed and all was well until I was straightening up our bathroom a few hours later. I opened the closet door and realized that all my gifts to my husband were there in plain view. They had been delivered last night right before he got home so I stowed them away in there to hide them quickly. I meant to move them to a more secure location while he and my son were at music, but got distracted cooking and totally forgot. I told myself, "maybe he didn't see them" and called him immediately. Ah, but no such luck. He did. I burst into tears. I couldn't help it. I was so disappointed at my own stupidity and I realized that there was nothing I could do to change it now. So, he tried to console me over the phone and convinced us to meet him for lunch. After I hung up, Ethan came over to me and said "What's the matter? Do you want your daddy?" I said, no, I was just disappointed. So he took my hand and put it to his cheek and said "Oh mommy, I'll make it all better." It was all almost worth it right then and there! While at lunch, I noticed that Randy had my daughter's rainbow "God loves you" bracelet around his wrist. When I questioned him, he said Hallie had asked him to wear it this morning so when he looked at it he would think of her and God and be happy. What a precious family I have! Two loving, compassionate children and a husband more than willing to wear a rainbow bracelet all day long just for his little girl. It's hard to feel down and out with all that going for you.

~~Daddy's Empty Chair~~

A man's daughter had asked the local minist er to come
and pray with her father.
When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed
with his head propped up on two pillows.
An empty chair sat beside his bed.

The minister assumed that the old fellow had been
informed of his visit.
"I guess you were expecting me, he said.
'No, who are you?"
said the father.
The minister told him his name
and then remarked,
"I saw the empty chair
and I figured
you knew I was going to show up,"
"Oh yeah, the chair,"
said the b edridden man.
"Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the minister shut the door.
"I have never told anyone this,
not even my daughter,"
said the man.
"But all of my life I have never known how to pray.
At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer,
But it went right o ver my head."
I abandoned any attempt at prayer,"
the old man continued,
"until one day four years ago,
my best friend said to me,
"Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter
of having a conversation with Jesus.
Here is what I suggest."
"Sit down in a chair;
place an empty chair in front of you,
and in faith see Jesus on the chair.
It's not spooky because he promised,
'I will be with you always'.
"Then just speak to him in the same way
you're doing with me right now."
"So, I tri ed it and I've liked it so much that I do it
a couple of hours every day.
I'm careful though
If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair,
she'd either have a nervous breakdown
or send me off to the funny farm."
The minister was deeply moved by the story
and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey.
Then he prayed with him,
anointed him with oil,
and returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called
to tell the minister that her daddy had died that afternoon.
Did he die in peace?" he asked.
Yes, when I left the house about two o'clock,
he called me over to his bedside,
told me how much he loved me
and kissed me on the cheek.
When I got back from the store an hour later,
I found him dead.
But there was something strange about his death.
Apparently, just before Daddy died,
he leaned over and rested his head
on the chair beside the bed.
What do you make of that?"
The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said,
"I wish we could all go like that."

Uh, What Was That Again?

Do you ever find yourself in a situation or just notice something unusual and say "hey, I'm going to blog about that" and then later in front of your computer you cannot recall what it was? Well, I find myself doing that frequently these days. I had several of those moments yesterday and now sitting here, all I can remember about yesterday is listening to certain Christmas songs my son has to play/sing for his piano recital over and over and over again. Oh yeah, and I remember dancing and singing to them in my car while waiting for the gas pump to stop and getting some very strange looks from some guy on the other side. Oh well, if you're not willing to make a fool out of yourself for your kids, then what kind of mother are you? Trust me, silliness is not a rare commodity around our house...for any of us. Randy and I would like to say it was just for the kid's benefit, but honestly we are as goofy after they go to bed sometimes as we are when they are around. Sometimes you've just got to do your own rendition of several 8o's songs complete with original dance moves and contrived voice to really relax. Okay, its just us.

Well, whatever it was I meant to blog about.........maybe it'll come to me later.