My "Lily" Encounter

Monday night was Christmas play night for Tracker. Yet one more source of stress during every holiday season...run like a mad woman home from work picking up children as I go, start yelling orders for bathing and clothing as soon as I hit the back door, hoping and praying the whole time that I will find something suitable to wear and when I look in the mirror, a supermodel will be looking back at me wearing my "suitable" outfit. Yeah right. I actually just hope for a good hair day and for the clock to stop for just about 15 minutes so I can be on time to the big annual affair at Leflore. Needless to say, we were late, as usual.

I went to school at Leflore off and on thru out childhood and was there for part of my Jr and Sr years. I do not have many fond memories of my time spent there so breaking the threshold of that auditorium is always interesting for me. I have two extremes, I've discovered: 1) I keep my head down and speak to no one and hope no one speaks to me or even remembers me, really or 2) I'm loud and obnoxious and overly friendly...even to people I can't stand. I even flip back and forth between the two extremes at times. Ugh...I drive myself nuts. Monday night was a "combo" night, I was all over the grid emotionally. Something about this time of year does it to me anyway then add in the whole school thing...I don't know how I'm makin' it without Valium.

I picked my seat quickly, my little entourage in tow, nearly running to keep up. No "hello"'s or pleasantries.....just get me to the top, back row....corner pocket if it's available. But, since my daughter is baby crazy, I made a trip back down to grab a friends' precious little boy. Turns out, he doesn't much care for the dark. Or strange people. And he particularly didn't care for the Pre-K's caroling with us strangers all up in his face in the dark. So, back down to the momma I went. By this time, I've hit the loud, obnoxious stage of my emotional extremes. Completely inappropriate since the program had already begun and silence had fallen thru out the audience...ahem. I'm a master of timing, what can I say?

Instead of climbing back up to my perch, whispering, "excuse me" and "I'm sorry", and disturbing the show a second time, I decided to just stand by the back exit. I picked the spot where all the restless 3 and 4 year olds were drivin' their moms bananas. Since I no longer have a 3 or 4 year old driving me bananas, I find them completely amusing and entertaining. They were playing tag...around and around and around the adults who were trying to video and take pictures. I was taking turns watching them and the play. I felt a little tug on the arm of my sweater and looked down to see a tiny, white-headed girl. I leaned down to see what it was she wanted and she jumped into my arms.

I really don't consider myself to be much of a "kid" person. I love them, love to watch them play, but as far as really interacting with one? I'm not so pretty good at it, I barely make it thru with my own! I seem to be "relationally challenged", I do best from a distance. But this kid was havin' none of it. I was looking at her, trying to decide what to do with her now that she was in my arms. Do I put her back down? Will she cry if I do? Or worse yet, throw a fit? Is she lost? Has she mistaken me for someone she knows? Where's her mom? Does her mom want a strange lady holdin' her kid? I was in full panic mode: WHAT do I do with this child????

First thing out of her mouth, "What are you chewing on?"

"Gum."

"Let me see it."

So, I show her. She tries to grab it right off my tongue, I almost wasn't fast enough. I thought I might better take control of the conversation. I asked her what her name was.

"Lily."

"Did you know you're named after a flower?", I asked her.

"I am?"

Then, she laid her head on my chest and I thought, "Awwww!". But then she raised up and put her tiny hands on each side of my face and began to turn my head back and forth. "Look over there. Who's that?", she'd say as she turned my face from side to side. She ran those little hands all OVER my face...my eyes, my mouth and then up into my hair. She twisted my freshly flat ironed hair into pigtails and jerked 'em back and forth til I just knew she'd leave me bald headed. She smoothed it all out again and pretended she was cuttin' it off only to wad it back up in a ball. "Why is your hair brown? Why is your hair yellow?", as she flipped it from one side to the other. I stood there thinking, "Why ME? All these people, and she picks me??"

Have I mentioned I have space issues?? And I can't stand for anyone to touch my face or hair, sends me into orbit. My boundaries were being stomped all over by a twenty pound, three year old I'd never even seen before. Had my kids been standing next to me, they would have been thoroughly entertained. I'm sure the expression on my face was a painful one. I literally don't know what to DO when things like this happen. The logical thing would be to put her down and send her on her way...but I didn't do it. I was really kinda just mesmorized by her. I found her absolutely irresistable, adorable. Even as intrusive as she was. Maybe that was the irresistable part, that she had no walls and was completely unaware that she was climbing all over mine!

I held her for about 20 minutes while her hands worked my hair into a frenzy. Then, her mom appeared and told her it was time to go. She stuck herself to me, wasn't goin' anywhere. Her mom finally got her ripped off of me while she yelled, "NO! I want to hold her!". Made me feel just pretty good. The play was cute but Lily was definately the highlight of my evening.

"You can learn many things from a child. How much patience you have, for instance."

-Franklin P. Jones

Simple, routine, outpatient surgery!

Holy cow...feels like it's been 6 months since I looked at my blogger account or even sat at a keyboard. It'd be nice to say that the time flew cuz I was havin' fun...but that'd be a big, fat lie. It's been like a really fast, really un-fun whirlwind that was supposed to NOT be a whirlwind, but only a light breeze.

I now know that my troubles began about ten years ago, that what I thought was really bad heartburn was actually my gallbladder beginning to tucker out on me. Who knew? Certainly not me. I don't know that I even thought about the fact that I HAD such an organ before 2 months ago. There were all kinds of lively circumstances leading up to the discovery that this piece of me had to go, but the important thing is, I went in for surgery on the 12th of November. I felt perfectly awful the two weeks before I went in; threw up routinely every six hours, my chest felt like it would surely explode 18 out of 24 hours every day. Everyone kept telling me I was gonna (and I quote) "feel like a brand new person" as soon as that thing was out. So, as scared as I was of scalpels, lasers, IV's, surgical masks, and the thought of being incoherent and unable to control what secrets I may or may not reveal about myself, I was actually looking forward to feeling better.

I got dressed up in my fancy, purple hospital gown that had a nifty hose attachment that pumped in either hot or cold air, whichever suited me at the moment, and the socks with the nobby tread (in case I decided to four wheel thru the corridor, I reckon) that they gave me. And then....... I laid there for a couple of hours. Just long enough to get good and nervous and to start having second thoughts about the whole thing, especially since my gallbladder had gone silent the day before and I felt pretty darn good. But, I was outnumbered and surrounded by my family so a mad dash for the nearest exit was no option. The nice little man with the syringe made all that nerve stuff stop in about five seconds flat. Let me just say, it's a good thing that whatever they pumped into my veins is not readily available for me to get my hands on...I'd be a worthless addict. No doubt. The whole world just gets soft and fuzzy and I can't even really remember my own name.... :) Good times, good times.

Anyway! They wheeled me into an operating room, another first for me. At this point, I'm talking nonstop cuz #1-I feel pretty good, and #2-I run my mouth to hide the fact that I'm scared and want to cry. I don't know for sure when I went out but it must've been an all of a sudden thing. When I woke up, ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights were whizzing by and I couldn't get my bearings for all the turns I was being wheeled around. Whoever was pushin' that bed had obviously done it many times before. I kept ripping an oxygen mask off my face...who in the world can breathe with those things on?? They finally shoved the little tube-y things up my nose which I didn't really appreciate at all. They were all talkin' about me like I wasn't there and I couldn't get my mouth to work to demand to know just WHAT was goin' on! About the time they flipped my butt into another bed with its own room and TV, I MADE my tongue work. An overnite stay was not on the itinerary! But, it happened.

The surgery didn't go as planned...that gallbladder was in sad, sad shape. Needless to say, I did not feel like a brand new person and promptly said so. Lies, all lies!! PAIN is what I felt. Not for long tho...they doped me up on enough morphine to make me sleep til two the next afternoon. As sore as I still was when I woke up, I wanted to go home and since it was Friday, the good doc was agreeable.

However, I woke up at 3:00 a.m. on Monday morning with extreme chest pains...JUST like when I had a gallbladder. Hmmmm. It took about 5 seconds for me to lose complete hope that I would ever feel good again. If the gallbladder was GONE and I STILL felt this way....well, as I told Josh, "Just shoot me and don't miss." And, I meant it. And so, about six hours later, I began my trek to the ER. I have serious issues with emergency rooms...all I've ever done is sit in them for hours on end only to have someone send me on my way feeling as bad as I did before. I had no hope they would do one single thing to help me and I would sit in that stupid waiting room for hours in this horrid pain and retching over a public toilet with sick people staring at me. Or, worse, they would simply tell me that I had to live this way...forever.

I'm happy to say that I was wrong. I had a gown and my very own room (again) within an hour. More & better drugs..good thing too, cuz they starved me for the better part of two days (ice chips..whatever!)in preparation of Surgery #2 to remove a stone that was hidin' out when Surgery #1 went down. I was given the consent of now two good docs on the third day to go home again...this time minus 11 staples and a JP drain. Okay, the drain is a really disgusting part of the story that I'm just gonna leave out cuz I'm already shuddering remembering the removal part. Ugh.

Surgery #2 was an "endo" surgery so they just went down my throat instead of cutting or slicing anything. BUT (and it's a big one) , I missed the whole lecture he gave me on possible after effects (couldn't have been the pain or maybe the pain medication). Internal bleeding was one of those effects, apparently. I knew I felt bad the next day but I had already decided I was just gonna be sickly for the rest of my life so I was tryin' to grow accustomed to feeling bad. But, three days later, I couldn't stand up without losing my vision and hearing and well, that scared me more than the pain ever hurt me.

Back to the ER we flew. I didn't even worry this time about whether or not they'd treat me...I knew if they didn't, I was a goner anyway and quite frankly, I just didn't care right then. Three units of blood, more starvation, one more time down the throat to have a look see, four more days in the hospital, two of those in ICU, lots of invasive routines that pretty much took care of every shred of modesty I ever had, seven IV attempts (3 of which were successful), and at least 10 blood draws from every possible source on my arms and hands and they released me for what I hope was the final time. Those people all took excellent care of me but if I never see any of them again, that'll be just fine. I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

And now...I STILL don't feel like a brand new person. Lies! All lies!! But, I AM alive and I'm pretty grateful for that. At least for today.

Roadkill Specials

So, my mom-in-law got a new cookbook. I was browsin' thru it, lookin' for some interesting, EASY new concoctions when I came across these beauties.


(notice: it actually SAYS that potatoes absorb a good deal of the fat and improves the flavor. I been cookin' my potatoes ALL wrong...it's possum fat that's been missing!!)


("...until it bristles like a porcupine..."????????? WHAT? I'm thinkin' if what you're cookin' has bristles at ALL, it should be thrown out immediately. I been tricked into eating turtle before but those bristles...those would be a dead giveaway.)

Who knew??? Who knew that those roadkill tee shirts from back in the day were based on some real live hillbilly homecookin'???

Surgery?? Seriously?

Seems like it's been a year since I blogged anything...or maybe it's just that a year's worth of crap has happened in what seems like such a short time. Dunno. What I DO know is that I'm gettin' old..and it's becoming more and more apparent every day!

I'm of that group of women who's motto has always been, "If you can still walk and the bone's not pokin' out, you're fine. Get on with your life." I'm that way with MYSELF, not with the kids or even Josh. Just me. I think that's what moms just do...put ourselves on the back burner for the sake of our families.....they always come first. "Mom" should be synonymous with "sacrifice". It's just what we do. Moms rock.

However, about a month ago, I sat straight up in bed at about midnite...it felt like someone had dropped a cinder block on my chest. NOT a good feeling. I sat there for a second, waiting on the pain to pass. It didn't. I thought, "Well, it's just the way I'm sittin'. I'll get up and move around and I'll be just fine." So, I got up quietly (PRIDE in the way of freakin' smooth out), walked into the living room and realized something was bad wrong. I couldn't breath and the pain wasn't showing the slightest sign of receding. Of course, your mind goes a million miles a minute and I was thinkin' about 30 different things every second or so. I was pretty sure I was havin' a heart attack.

Husband's have this intuition thing that kicks in...but never until the last moment, it seems. I turned around to go get Josh and he was just there. The panic must have been evident in my eyes cuz I instantly saw it reflected in his which just made me panic more, which made him panic more...it escalated in no time flat to a yelling match about the emergency room. I didn't put up much of a fight...I couldn't breathe for one and, second, I was sorta scared I might be dying. No bones, blood, or babies tryin' to come out but I was A-OK with going to the hospital, suddenly.

Of course, by the time we got to the ER 20 minutes later, I was better and refused to go in. :) Have I mentioned I have a slight fear of doctors and hospitals????? Anyway, I did go to the doctor the next day...TWICE because the attacks would not stop. They checked my heart and lungs and said everything looked good...that was that, the pain subsided and I didn't think a whole lot more about it beyond the scariness of the whole incident. Did some research and decided I probably had reflux or a hiatal hernia. I'm so good with the self-diagnosis thing, you see.

Then, last week, it happened again. Only this time it lasted four days. Of course, I didn't go the the hospital until the fourth day....the pain finally got bad enough. Seems pain, for me, is a way to break down my pride....sad that it takes really INTENSE pain tho! On the way to the doc's, I began to throw up..and throw up some more, and then....even some more. Good thing I hadn't eaten in 24 hours, wasn't much to come up. I was thinkin', "PIG FLU!". But the pain in my chest was SO bad. Child birth x 100, at least. I remember pleading with Josh, "You HAVE to make them help me...please don't let them send me away without helping me. If they do, you'll have to shoot me. I can't live like this."

After 8 hours at the clinic (with NO food), many tests and an ultrasound, they broke the news to me that my gallbladder had to be removed. Sounded like an old person's problem to me. I knew I HAD a gallbladder but never really stopped to think about how it functions and it NEVER occurred to me that this little organ could wreak such havoc in my life and make me think I was dying! But, whatever. The pain had subsided for the time being and I was hungry enough to eat the paint right off the walls so I know I heard the doctor say the word "surgery" but I just didn't really care right then. The doc told me low fat, no chocolate, no fried food and the lovely receptionist told me to report back on the 24th of November. I hit the door and then the drive thru at the nearest Micky D's. Was hard to NOT get fries but I gotta say, that dry salad may as well have been a cheesecake and it didn't last long!

I thought the 24th sounded a long way off...especially if that pain ever came back...I'd RATHER have died than go thru that again. But, I just shrugged it off and assumed that they knew more about this stuff than me and that surely, they must have known I would feel okay until then or they woulda' never let me go that long. Right? Wrong. So, so wrong. The next 2 days were more or less hell on earth and by Wednesday nite, we were, once again, en route to the ER.

I tried to be strong, really, I did. I can't explain how BAD this crap hurts...feels like your chest is exploding, like someone is blowing up a balloon that is crammed up under your rib cage. Hurts your chest, your ribs, your back...you name it, it HURTS. I thought a nice, hot bath might help. No. I didn't even get to rinse the conditioner outta my hair...I threw some clothes on and told Josh to get me somewhere, I was pretty sure something vital had ruptured. He flew 90 or so all the way to Poteau and about the time I hung my head out the window and began to puke, he floored it. We had a cop behind us, not sure for how long and even tho' it was OBVIOUS we were on our way to the ER, he ordered us to PULL OVER. After being told to SLOW DOWN (not in an "optional" kinda way either), we proceeded to drive the remainder of the 3 blocks to the hospital while the officer stayed behind us...closely. I guess just in case the Nascar driver and his gaggin' cohort decided to pull a fast one....

I felt pretty good after throwin' up all over the place but I decided that I better go in the ER after the whole cop car thing. A skinny little cop met me with a wheelchair which I did NOT want to sit in and I certainly didn't want him pushin' my fat butt up the hill and thru the doors. But there I was, in a wheelchair with a heaving little guy pushin' more than he bargained for, UP a dang hill. I couldn't imagine what I looked like but I knew I didn't smell too pretty but I figured I'd be alright once the nurse tucked me away in one of the rooms and no one could see me. Wrong again (there seems to be a pattern here). Some guy grabbed that wheelchair and pushed me right thru a waiting room full of people who looked at me like I was diseased. I was thinkin, "I must look really bad!". I was still thinkin' that he must be taking me to a ROOM with a DOOR. No. My little wheelchair ride came to an abrupt halt right in front of the billing clerk. The nerve!

The little billing clerk couldn't have been a day over 18 and when she looked at me, I could tell she didn't want to get any closer to me than absolutely necessary. I assured her it was OK, that I didn't have anything that was contagious, no swine flu. I was still in shock that I was sitting in front of a lot of people covered in puke! When the cops finished lecturing Josh on the dangers of speeding, I made him answer all the billing questions and I went to the bathroom to take a look at what everyone was starin' at. Good Lord..if I hadn't known it was a mirror I was looking into, I'd have been scared myself. I looked like I'd been in a bar room brawl: my hair was a frizzy disaster with left over greasy conditioner and bits of regurgitated red jello in it,I was also sporting a good deal of red jello on my shirt, AND my mascara had run all the way down about to my knees....I was a walking nightmare. When I walked back out, Josh handed me my newly printed hospital bracelet. I promptly slid it back across the clerk's desk and informed her I would be leaving, but thanks anyway. She didn't say anything...just stared some more.

The next day, I landed myself a prescription for some serious pain pills...life savers, is what they are and I got them to move my surgery up by three weeks. I will be having my first ever surgical experience on the 3rd of November @ 2:45. I'm a little nervous about being put under. Well, and then there's the fact that a piece of me is coming out...and then the horror stories I've heard from all the "gallbladder veterans" about what eating is like afterward...and then the prospect of the weight gain they all keep talking to me about....fun stuff.

Hopefully all goes well and that I'm pleasantly surprised by the whole experience. Hopefully.

Fried Bolgna and Bigfoot

We took off Saturday afternoon on a hunt for the elusive Bigfoot of Honobia, OK (that's Ho-nubby in case you're wondering...I would be wondering). Okay, not really...we went and hung out at the Bigfoot Festival for the funnel cakes, fried ding dongs(Matthew's choice), fried oreos (my choice), and the cool craft booths. AND...I took some pictures cuz I know there are people out there who are thinkin', "WHAT? A festival in honor of something no one has ever seen? Seriously?" Seriously.

See? THAT is "Bigfoot, The Drawing". I made Tracker pose so the full effect of the size of these creatures would be apparent. I sure had high hopes for seein this thing in person so I could put my skeptical mind to rest. I left a skeptic, still, but a skeptic who was on a sugar and nacho cheese high, at least. Oh well, there's always next year I reckon. Oh! P.S. The fried oreos? Not so hot. Soggy, grease soaked, and MESSY. No more for me.

I toured the smallest post office in America:

Took about 20 seconds, tops!

I did get to sit and hold my brand new nephew for a good long while tho. Okay, not brand new, he's 3 weeks old and this week was the first time I'd seen him. Bad, BAD Aunt Krista. I love babies who smell like pink baby lotion...it reminds me of bein' 17 and thinkin' my newborn baby girl needed like, 6 baths a day. (Poor lil sparkling-clean thing.) Nacona is the new addition's name but Josh and Tracker keep callin him Casper... it has stuck. Ugh. I'd be offended if it was my kid. My sister-in-law has a better sense of humor than I. Their oldest son's name is Jaspur and when Jaspur came over to tell us about his new baby brother, he TOLD us his name was Casper (in his four year old mind, it rhymed therefore, it must be.) I thought, "SURELY not. Surely." Ya just never know anymore...shoulda' seen the looks I got over Tracker!! So, Nacona cured my baby longings for now. She changed that kid's diaper too many times in too small a time frame for me to NOT get it cured.

When we'd seen all of Bigfoot we cared to, listened to all the off-key singin' we could stand to, and ate more than we should have been able to, we headed back outta the mountains. We stopped by the only little store in town before we left and I couldn't resist takin' a picture of their sign.

Appropriate, I reckon. See the little bigfoot footprint border (try sayin THAT 10 times fast)????? Too funny. We advertise our tendency to be a little backward around these parts.



Hillbillies, bigfoot...what's next? Why, Fried Bologna (bolonie, if you will) sandwiches, of course. This little store/cafe was PACKED with out-of-towners wantin' fried bolonie on bread. I couldn't believe it and suppressed a giggle. Poor man's bacon, that's what I call it....and we ate it plenty when I was growin up. I wouldn't pay someone to make me one, that's for sure...heck, I wouldn' take one for FREE. Blech! I still remember what it smells like fryin and how ya had to slice it like a four leaf clover just so it'd lay down in the pan flat. But, hey...if the bigfoot researchers wanna try out the local Hillbilly specialty and pay $4.75 for it & a mini bag of Lay's...who am I to laugh? Least I'll know what pulls em in if I ever decide to open a cafe.



I looked thru the racks of tee shirts while I was in there, and then the bumper stickers..."I Brake For Bigfoot", the action figures (yes, seriously, Bigfoot dolls), hats, home decor, and decided that I couldn't leave without SOME sort of souvenier.


So, I got me a watermelon flavored, bigfoot sucker and hit the highway. I tried to take some pix of the awesome scenery as we were on the top of the mountain and then on the way back down but my cell phone takes really crappy pictures....really crappy. I did manage to get this shot:

We slowed down, just in case. Hey, better safe than sorry, that's my philosophy! Well, one of them anyway.

Ya win some, lose MORE & learn in the process!

I'm exhausted today...or, from the mouth of the two year old Taylor, "I'm exsausage, Mom!" Gosh, I miss my kids bein' little, miss that little girl who would crawl up on the nearest table and dance anytime she saw fit. I know it'd take big bucks to get Matt to break it down to Back in Black these days, too...I'd pay it but somehow, I'm thinkin it won't be as cute @ 13 as it was @ 2... I still say so many things like they used to when they were learning to use "big words". Anytime Josh or I would run to the store, little voices would yell, "Bring me back a so-prize!!" So now I ask 'em, "Want me to bring you back a so-prize?", when I'm headed to town. They look at me like I've lost my mind and roll their eyes. Guess they're too grown up for all that now. What I wouldn't give to spend a week back then with them. But back then, all I could think was, "UGH! I'll be SOOOO glad when they're grown enough to take care of themselves!!". Careful what ya wish for, I reckon...it comes about too soon as it is.

Had my nephews last nite...I discovered how ill equipped I am at handling a two year old these days when Bronc is around....he wears me OUT! He decided that 4 am would be a good time to start a Spongebob Marathon this morning. He woke me up yellin, "Aunt Pitta....Bumbob???" Aw, why not? It IS four, afterall...what did I think I was gonna do? Sleep til like, what, six??? Sleep is sooo overrated, ya know. I'd bet a silver dollar that lil monkey is asleep right now and I will be fightin my eyelids all day! He's at the "parrot" stage...he mimics everything we say. I told Taylor to "knock it off", he told her to "NAW-TIT ON, Sissy!" Funny, but can be very bad too....all ya gotta do is mess up once and you'll get to fight for the next 6 months to wipe a four letter word from his little mind!! My little sister uses all sorts of choice phrases...and now, so does Bronc. But I remember many a tearful fit tryin to get Tracker to quit usin' the "F" word...he used it correctly too. I got lots of advice from everyone on how to stop him:

"You need to wash that kid's mouth out with soap!" I had to wrestle him down and sit on top of him but I did it...he'd cuss as he spit Dawn dish soap out all over the both of us.

"That boy needs his butt whipped!" Tried that too....it didn't work, he cussed and, besides, it made me feel like crap.

"You put him in the corner/time out long enough and he'll LEARN!" Wrong again, but nice try.

There really are kids out here in the real world who just will not fit the molds everyone thinks they ought to! I gave up tryin to scare him into submission and just hoped beyond hope he wouldn't give anyone a cussin' at church or in Walmart. When I quit makin' a big deal of it, of course, he quit. We took him to see The Santa Clause 3 at some point during this time and that Jack Frost character scared him a little. He climbed over into my lap, pointed at the screen, and yelled, "MOMMA! Tell that guy a bad word!!" :) He was gonna leave the cussin' to the grown up this time. It was a "proud momma" moment as me and the kids all died laughin' and several people turned around to stare at us.

Dadgum Okies!!

YOU KNOW YOU’RE FROM OKLAHOMA IF…

* You know the address of Mathis Brothers



* You refer to the weather men by their first names


* You planned your wedding around a football schedule


* You call 30mph winds a light breeze


* You have voted on chicken fighting


* When you hear someone say Texas you immediately think “SUCKS”


* Someone you know graduated with a famous country singer

(Go-TEE-bo)!!!!!

* You can pronounce Gotebo



*You plan an additional 30 minutes for any road trip b/c of certain road construction


* You don’t think it’s odd to name airports after people who died in plane crashes


* You can’t name 3 NFL players, but you can name every player on the OU roster



* You’ve had to use both the heat & A/c on the same day


* You’ve asked someone what type of “Coke” do they want & they’ve replied “Dr. Pepper”


* You hear a tornado siren & run outside to look


* You use the word “fixin” when you are telling people what you are about to do (even if it doesn’t involve “fixing” anything)


* You say you hate Texas, but secretly hope they take OKLAHOMA with them if they ever leave the Union


* You don’t think it’s odd to name a college mascot after people who cheated



* Your local car commercials look more like amateur comedy acts


* You learned to shoot a gun before tying your shoes


* You don’t think it’s odd to have ammunition, movie rentals & fishing bait at the gas station


* You think a F250 4x4 is more of a status symbol than a BMW


* You have at least 5 friends who work in the oil & gas industry


* You only have to drive an hour to go on a hunting trip


* You spend 10 minutes at a 4-way stop b/c everyone keeps motioning for someone else to go first


* The word “bedlam” gets you excited


* Every time someone says “OK” you start thinking L-A-H-O-M-A….Oklahoma......OK!

Good ol' Oklahoma!!

Omnia Vincit Amor (Love Conquers All)!!!

They Threw Off My Groove....

First of all...its FRIDAY again...yay! I dunno why I love this day so much, I get out of bed easier, I'm in a better mood, I smile more, talk more...oh wait, I also get paid on this day. That may have something to do with it.

And then a phone call from the girl child comes in, just now, yes. Had my day all planned out, perfectly. But, it would seem that the first HOME football game has just been made an away game. Grrrr! Revamp the "Plan for Today". Instead of showing up by 7, she now has to be there at 4:30. Okay, this is all part of the motherhood contract..."You shall give up your life for the next 18 years and longer if deemed necessary. You shall make no plans that cannnot be altered or cancelled altogether at the last minute. Literally, the last minute." FYI: Social life and Motherhood do not work well together!!!! While you're at it, go ahead and fold your identity into your mom role. If at the end of raising all you have brought forth, there's a shred of "you" left....well, peachy! If not? Eh.

Another nifty surprise for today: Walked in the school to pick up Matthew early and was informed that I should make a stop by the superintendent's office on my way out. "Why?", I ask. Various replies shot up from all over the classroom. Apparently, EVERYONE in 7th and 8th grade knew why. I gathered enough info from the chorus of voices to know that this kid of mine was gonna wish he'd wasn't leaving early today. The Super is also the history teacher that Matt's always raving about, he LOVES this class. I was a little surprised to learn there was an "issue". But that's just it, he's a nice guy and lets these boys get away with pretty much anything. Matt mentality: "Steamroll him and push him as far as ya can." Of course! I was amazed at the grace this guy is extending to my son...he gave him an "Incomplete" instead of the C he deserves because a five minute assignment was 2 1/2 weeks late and is STILL not turned in! (Where was this teacher my junior year??) AND, he kept informing me what a "good boy" my kid was. Good meaning......???? I was not a happy camper, no siree. I'm still debating what the consequences of this should be. I mean, the guy sat there and told me that Matt has the potential to be valedictorian but he just won't apply himself. LAZINESS, a lack of follow through, that's what it is and it's drivin me nuts. We deal with this in all areas with Matt. HOW do you make someone give a dang? Arrrrgh!!

Geeze...all I was gonna do was get on here and blog about the crows I saw this morning. Really. :) Another day, I reckon, since it's about time for me and my little car to sprout our "Super-Overscheduled Mom" wings and fly to Kinta. "To infinity and beyond...and back again." LOL! Okay, that just prompted some scheming. I am definately gonna find me a superhero costume complete with cape, knee high boots, and some sort of glittery eye mask thing to show up to the next few school events in. I'll zoom around with my arms straight out in front of me instead of walking and puff out my chest alot. If the teenagers in my life won't willingly acknowledge and appreciate the hoops I jump thru for them...I'll embarass them mercilessly!

Sticks & stones may break bones, but words can destroy you.

I stay so flippin' busy anymore that I can't believe there are people who have so much time on their hands that they have to dream up things to make the day interesting. People always tell you when you're growing up that all this gossiping, juvenile crap that goes on in junior high and high school ends there, that it's "not like this out in the real world". We're somehow led to believe that our diplomas double as magic wands that suddenly make everyone into adults and open our eyes to the fact that not one of us is any better than anyone else (gasp!) and VOILA! We all live in perfect harmony as soon as we flip that tassel to the other side of our heads. Nearly two decades later, I'm no longer shocked speechless to find that people "out here" are no different than they were back then. But every once in awhile, the shamelessness of it all does catch me by surprise.




I've watched a family be shredded in the last two days by the thoughtless, idle words that some bored and jobless idiot strung together to have something interesting to tell her equally pathetic cohorts over coffee and cigarettes. They remind me of vultures. They circle constantly, looking for signs of weakness in any breathing creature, zeroing in on the easiest targets; those who've got more than enough to deal with and can't fight off an attack. They begin to swoop in, taking pecks here and there, hoping to cause enough pain and exhaustion to bring the prey to its knees. Maybe they'll retreat for as long as it takes for their victim to regain a little hope of survival, maybe not. Disgusting, despicable, carcass-eating, busybodies. They spend so much time in the company of only each other, they grow immune to the stench they emit. Or, perhaps, it's the entire community that stinks, therefore, it's familiar and actually quite comfortable to thrive in the putridness of it all.





I think of ways I've contributed to the pain of others by runnin' my mouth and I'm sorry in more ways than I could ever express. Being the target of it more than a few times will break you right out of wanting to have any part in it. Thankfully, I've developed an intolerance for the maliciousness of it all. In reality, no one is actually dying on account of careless words, but it's bringing about death, nonetheless. Death of trust, death of relationship, death of a marriage, death of family, death of a business ruined by a tainted reputation...death of sanity, it would seem, for the one most affected. We can all sit back and say, "Oh, no one listens to all that stuff anyway.", but the truth is, people ARE listening. They're taking it in, adding in their own twisted perceptions of the situation, and spitting it back out to the next willing listener. If only I hadda dollar for every time I encountered the, "OH! Have I got somethin' to tell YOU...you're never gonna believe this..." intro to conversation. It's the drug of choice in Small Town, America. I got countless other addictions to occupy my mind and time.





Gossip is as much empowered by the listener as by the one speaking it, but it finds its highest glory in the response of the one it's attempting to destroy. It's a fight to get it shut down in a place where nothing makes anyone happier than the misery of another. What I want to do is climb up on a table in the middle of them all, interrupt their gabfest, and really give em somethin' to talk about, let 'em all know what havoc they're wreaking on these poor people. I'm gettin' a good lesson on the destruction that words can bring about. I hope I don't forget it.

chatter boxes die of an empty heart

fools openly spread slander

the blabber of the wicked is worthless

a foul mouth is a stagnant swamp

the words of the wicked pollute the air

"If it's too loud, you're too old"...I somehow got OLD!

Monday, monday, it's here to stay. This song is always in my head on Monday mornings...guess the Mama's & the Papa's musta felt the same way about Mondays as the rest of us...only they thought to write a song that spent a lotta time at the top of the charts. I'd imagine they didn't mind Monday's so much after that!

Had a pretty wild weekend...feels that way today anyway. Had another late nite Friday waiting on Taylor to get home from the game. She's 14 and not gettin home til after 2 am. Almost sounds familiar. 'Bout had to surgically remove my head from the pillow bright and early Saturday morning. Finally got the troops organized and out the door an hour later than I was supposed to. We spent the rest of the day at Rock the River with friends. It was fun, despite the rain that just wouldn't quit. Thank goodness the stadium was covered. It was nice to see such a good turnout for the benefit. Amanda won fifty bucks in a drawing...appropriate, I thought, since it was her birthday. I've gotten used to never winning a thing yet I always fill out the little slips anyway. Must still have some hope somewhere in here!

Hannah House is a pregnancy crisis center in Fort Smith. They do such an awesome work in this area, helping teen moms and moms-to-be get their feet back under them and givin' em hope for a future again. I loved hearing the girls stand and tell their stories of how the center had changed their lives and empowered them to offer a life for their children. I gotta soft spot for teen moms havin' been there myself. I remember how scary it is when you feel like ya got nowhere to turn. Absolutely a needed ministry and it was a awesome to see 14 bands show up to lend their talents in support of it. All of the bands were comprised of men. I thought that spoke volumes about the heart they have for these young women. Local bands took the stage for the early afternoon, then Every Day Sunday took over and kids came out of the woodwork! By the time Thousand Foot Krutch played, it was nearly packed. Of course, I spent the entire day waiting on Seventh Day Slumber to play.... was well worth it but it's always over too soon!!

I did discover that metal bands playin' in an all steel stadium makes for a rough time on the ears tho. We figured out pretty quick that if you wanted to make out the words, you had to plug your ears! Or go get real up close and personal with all the teeny boppers in the pit. Whichever. I only lasted thru SDS in the pit tho...rough crowd! My ten year old nephew was nearly crowd surfed when he tried to get on a friends' shoulders for a better view. Scared him half to death...thank goodness security was doing their job!!! I still get tickled thinkin about what his face must have looked like when he realized he was about to be bounced around like a volleyball!!! Or what Taylor's must have looked like when she realized she couldn't get to him fast enough! Or what they all looked like when that big uniformed man drug him down and gave em all the "what for" with his big flashlite shinin' in their faces!! Funny stuff.

I sat up top and watched big ol' kids being thrown around down there...I can't imagine what would have happened to poor little Bryar! Taylor made it out unscathed and Matthew only suffered minor injuries for his time spent with the extremely physical moshing part of the crowd. I can't understand why anyone would want to have a part in that crap. I made the mistake of attending a very loud, very hardcore metal concert back a while back with the kids and my very pregnant (at the time) friend, Amanda. Who knew we wouldn't hear for 2 days???

Anyway, before I had this whole thing figured out, I was determined to stand front and slightly right of center so that I wouldn't miss seeing or hearing anything. The first couple of bands weren't so bad...not that they were so good, either, but I can handle some head bangin and jumpin around. Although, the kids were standing so close to one another, I don't see how they weren't crackin their heads together when they were slingin' their hair back and forth. I'm thinkin you need at least 4 feet of personal space...on ALL sides, if you're the head banging sort, maybe more if you got a lotta hair. I spent more time making sure the guy behind me wasn't gonna take me out with blunt force trauma to the head than I did watching the show. But, that was only beginning...then the real bands began to take stage and the exciting stuff began...more like, the aerobics began really. I'm just standin' there, arms crossed, wondering what in the world I was doing there and considering the impact deafness was gonna have on my life when the lead singer spit...and I mean SPIT (more than just saliva, ok?) right out onto the crowd. I'm sure my mouth dropped wide open. I was positively disgusted but others seemed to think it was the best thing that had happened all night and went ballistic! Mr. Headbanger next to me was no longer banging in a back and forth motion. Oh no, it was back and forth, side to side, round and round...and all the sweat from his lovely locks was flying all over me. I'd decided I'd had enough about the time the moshing began and he slammed into me and I slammed into Paula on the other side of me. I got the whole "WHAT are you doing" look from her. I just pointed. I was less than impressed with the whole experience and if Disciple hadn't played "After the World", I would have started a full-scale riot. If I'm gonna put in two and a half hours of time, give up a good portion of my hearing, and be sweat on, spit on, and slammed around, I want to hear the 4 minutes of music I came for, dangit.

Friday Nite Wipeout

Amanda took Tracker home with her after the game...he couldn't WAIT to spend the nite with Luke & Aaron. I'm thinkin' not a whole lot of playin' went on.... lol!!!! Too cute.

It's Tuesday in name but Monday in nature....

Ugh...this Tuesday has been worse than a Monday. Well, actually, it all began on a Monday...it's simply carrying over into my Tuesday. Not fair. I did enjoy my Labor Day weekend, though. Went and watched the Poteau football team hand Spiro their butts on Friday nite. Was an awesome night for football, perfect fall weather despite the sudden cloud burst that drenched us all. Baby Noah and I hid out under a backpack for cover. Tried to keep my hair dry...it fuzzed up like a Cheetoh Puff anyhow. Ch-ch-ch-Chia! My favorite freshman didn't get to play, but he did look official all suited up in his brand new Pirate attire. Couldn't be prouder if he was mine. Hit Walmart afterward, thinkin' at 10:30 pm, it would be pretty empty and I could get in and out really quick. Well, everyone else must have had the same idea...it was packed. I survived, but barely.

Taylor cheered at her first football game on Friday nite as well. The boys played in Peru, Oklahoma...who knew there even WAS such a place? Not I. I'm actually wondering if there IS such a place. After googling it, I'm convinced it's either so tiny it's more like a pothole or... it's in Kansas. That's the only Peru I can find. Whatever. I knew it was far enough away that I wasn't driving it. I picked her up about 2:30 Saturday morning...she was wiped out! Next game is supposed to be a home game. Her dad and I can't wait to terrorize her from the stands....too much fun! Can't believe I forgot to get a picture of her in that skirt...guess it's the shock of all of it. You'd never convinced me a month ago that my girl child would be cheering...ever. In fact, when she told me she was gonna try out, I laughed....out loud. Made her mad too. I'm recovering but we're still trying to convince Josh that those blue bloomer things are NOT the same thing as underwear. Taylor and I decided that it's really to our disadvantage that he didn't have any sisters.

Josh and I headed out early Saturday morning in pursuit of some bear watching. We found tracks, but no bear. Frankly, I was relieved. Josh can run quite a bit faster than I can...survival of the fittest. I'm never the fittest. Was an enjoyable walk in the woods...all except for the snake and the disgusting porn magazine that someone had decided to leave behind, a loooong time ago from the looks of it. Josh and I had a heated discussion over his decision to NOT remove the smut the first time he saw it lying there. His thinkin was, he didn't put it there, he wasn't touchin' it. I made my thoughts really clear to him quite quickly as I wadded the nasty thing up and carried it out: "If you KNOW your wife and kids may very well walk past this crap, get it the heck OUT of here!". Maybe I used a few more words, but you get the gist of it.

He and I had the house to ourselves Saturday nite. He fell asleep 15 minutes into the movie we'd rented, then woke up 20 minutes before it ended and questioned me 1000 times, "What happened? What's goin' on? What did I miss?". Grrrr!!

We headed out to the Choctaw Festival on Sunday afternoon for some great music and good food. We weren't even hungry until we smelled it all...I just can't walk pass the funnel cake stands and NOT buy one. Then we found these nifty, little twisted, fried potatoe things that you could get BBQ brisket & cheese on top of...we got a double order. The two or three bites I got were good....Josh took those over, I only looked away for a second too. It's just a good thing that all the food stands were up a hill, a steep one, from where we were sittin'....saved me from ruin!

The kids rode the carnival rides until they ran 'em all out at about 12:30. I totally enjoyed the people watching while we were waiting around. Some situations are just too predictable to be any fun tho. We were laughin' our heads off at a song that was blarin' ..."Do the Stanky Leg", wonderin' what on earth such a dance might look like. Then, it happened. Two girls started doing the dance right then and there. I elbowed Josh and nodded in that direction so he, for sure ,wouldn't miss the show. Body parts were threatening to fly out at various locations from low, really low, necklines and all the jiggling that was going on. We fought the urge to just openly stare with our mouths hanging open. Sad, really....these two girls were so desperate for some attention. I knew in that environment, it wouldn't be long before they got what they were lookin' for. The carny boy runnin' the ride my kids were on couldn't get the ride stopped and the kids unloaded fast enough! I just love it when a boy has a girl to show off for...I was amused at the acrobatic moves he was suddenly capable of. Watching him creatively dump all those kids was almost as much fun as watchin' the stripper-esque dance moves the girls had goin' on. Josh and I whispered bets about how long it'd take the carny boy to holler at the more daring of the two girls. I hoped it was fast cuz I was afraid she was fixin' to start tossin' clothes! We drug our feet walkin away, hangin back behind everyone. I'd say it took maybe 15 seconds flat before they were up in each other's faces. After I'd gotten over the satisfaction of correctly predicting the ending, I started the whole, "Just where is that girl's momma anyhow?" bit. Probably the same place MY momma was when I was her age.... :)

Taylor gained some ground with her dad on Sunday whether she knows it or not. He's always on her butt about her clothes, "That's too low!", "Those are too short!", "Get that off!", "You're NOT goin' out lookin' like that!". I try to hold a neutral position...if he's right, I say so. If she's right, I say so. Their personalities are so alike that they clash, constantly. It's exhausting, refereeing it all. She's the only teenage girl he's been around since he was a teenager and since he WAS a teenage boy back then, tank tops and daisy dukes were pretty cool!! Not so much now. I've always thought Taylor exercises some class when choosing her clothing but he flips out almost daily. I often tell him she is gonna hate him before it's all said and done. Sunday was good for him...he was very quiet for a long time after we got settled in at the concert. Finally, he looks at me and says, "I can't believe what some of these girls are wearing!". I couldn't resist, "Yeah, you should be thankful you have a daughter who dresses normally and quit gripin' so much!" Then he said, "ABnormal, from the looks of things." He truly was in shock....poor little, sheltered man. Wish I had taken some pictures of a couple of the outfits we saw...or even the dancing girls. That way, when he starts up again, I could just whip 'em out and shut him UP!!

"So when you get the chance...are ya gonna take it?"

On the drive to work yesterday, I was thinking about the day that was ahead of me and wondering what just might be in store for me. I do this alot, not exactly sure why. I never get as far in processing as to actually go thru possible scenarios...just a broad sense of "I wonder" goes thru my head. The way I got it figured, if I made it to another sunrise, I should make the day count. I try to keep my eyes open for opportunities to just make a difference in someone's life... if only in a minuscule way.

I love people, I really do. I'm a people watcher (no, that's NOT the same thing as a stalker!). I just notice things....what people wear, the things they say, their expressions. Women are especially fascinating. We all have our own sense of style from the clothes we put together, to the way we accessorize ourselves, the shoes we choose, the hair we wear, the way we talk, walk, write, and laugh. Some of us are very thoughtful in the way we put ourselves together, meticulous and polished, while others of us seem to be able to throw it all together and be just as fabulous. Amazing creations is what we are.

A few years back, I attended a women's conference in OKC. Beth Moore was the speaker so, of course, the women of Oklahoma, Kansas, Texas and more turned out in full force! Before the lights were dimmed, I happened to take a look around the arena. I had to appreciate the view: about 15,000 seats, from floor to ceiling, and in a complete 360 degrees was nothing but women and girls. All ages, races, and every shape and size was represented in that place. Every color I've ever seen was displayed in the clothes we were all wearing. Then, as the conference ended for the night and everyone was leaving, (and me, being the people watcher I am) I couldn't resist turning around when I got down to the lobby just to take a look. It was a literal sea of women, streaming down the escalators, into the lobby, and out the door, very fluid and smooth and calm. Not loud or rude or pushy, no visible irritation at the time it was taking to get out the door. Not at all like what you see if you're brave enough to hit the "day after Thanksgiving" sale at Walmart!! It was a beautiful sight.

Dunno what point I was trying to make with all that but what I mean to get across is that, I'm an observer. In all my travels, this trait has brought some awesome opportunities my way: to help people out and hopefully, to have made a difference in the lives of others. My life has been full of "down & out" moments but there has never failed to be a "someone" who just "happens" to come along and help me get on my feet and back on track. I figure it's my duty, for sure, to step up when I can but mostly, I just want to.

However (there's always one of those, isn't there?), there are times when I'd just really rather not. Yesterday brought about one of these times. I looked up to see a face I just didn't rightly care to engage with walkin into my office. It's not that I even know the woman all that well, can probably count on one hand the words we've exchanged. I do know OF her tho and that I got firsthand. She started a really horrible and completely untrue rumor about me when I was a senior. I was all of 17 at the time and she was close to 40. Why any grown woman would want to terrorize a teenager is beyond my scope of comprehension now, I sure couldn't understand it back then. But, whatever...it happened, broke my heart, but also defined what true friendship was. Those few (very few) who were my friends stood beside me and all the impostors were exposed. Maybe I should be grateful but it still sucked. So much, that I don't want to even go into it now for fear that I will hate her guts again. Blech.

Back to yesterday...I'm face to face with her, there's no one here but me so I'm knowin' I gotta, but screamin' inside, "I don't wanna!". Funny how life brings you such situations. I'm to a point in life that, if I'm not happy to see you, I'm not gonna fall all over myself pretending to be thrilled and makin' small talk. "Can I help you?", was the best I could do. She needed her propane cylinders refilled and when I'm the only one around...guess who gets the privilege? Right. So, while I'm wrestling the bottles outta the back of her truck, I'm wrestling with myself in my mind and I began to have a conversation in my mind. I went back and forth and over and under the completely snotty way I was behaving toward her and the fact that I felt quite justified in it. I tend to retreat behind some reinforced walls when I've been hurt by someone. It's quite obvious too: I avoid eye contact, speak quietly and only when necessary, answer in one-syllable words when asked questions and do it all with just enough attitude to let the person know that it's not because I'm shy. It's a shameful display and I executed it shamelessly.

And then, I looked at her face. I mean, really looked at her face, and what I saw kinda hurt my heart. I saw a woman who's life is catching up with her and time hasn't been kind to. Someone who hasn't got a real friend in the world, and deep down, she knows it. Suddenly, I felt like a toad. A really ugly, slimy, heartless, wart covered toad. Ugh! WHY do I have to have a conscience? How come I hafta care about people...especially those who have gossip-filled mouths that hurt other people??? Dangit.

So, I swallowed my self-righteous, high and mighty, "right to treat you like dirt because you started it" pride parade and asked her how she's been. Those first few words were hard, but it got easier. She immediately went into telling me things about people I had no business knowing (true to form..lol!) but I was able to shut that down peacefully and steer the conversation elsewhere. She opened up and told me some of the hardship going on in her life and I truly had compassion for her. (wow'd even me) She stayed for quite awhile...I think sometimes we just need to be heard by someone and when you stumble upon a willing listener, well, it just all kinda comes flyin' out. I saw her in a different light. Not as the malicious, rumor spreadin', trouble maker I'd always labeled her, but just as a person who is insecure about the mistakes her past holds and desperate to cover them up anyway possible, even if it hurts another. And a woman with a heavy load to carry, no one to help her with it, and no one even to just lean on sometimes.

It was a pretty humbling experience for me. Just served to prove that all the junk that I'm seeing in a person is just really the outward symptom of something that's really wrong on the inside. Maybe I shouldn't decide who someone is based on my first encounter with them...maybe it's the second or third time around that you really get to the heart of someone. I think that all of us, given the opportunity of a second chance, really want to do better the second time. I still had a choice to make about her tho. And I decided I have been given too many chances to deny another theirs.

So far, so good...

Well, I made it to and thru my 32nd birthday! It was a great day filled with greetings from just about everywhere...California, Colorado, Alabama, Iowa, South Dakota, Nebraska, the good ol' Sooner State too... I'm a blessed person, indeed to have so many great people around! Makes getting older more tolerable for sure!

The weekend flew like they all do. Josh & I went for breakfast Saturday morning while the kiddos slept in. We sometimes forget what adult conversation with out any "MOM!" or "Hey, Dad" intrusions is like. We waited too long for some not so great food but I really liked just hangin' out with him.

I had a great time with some of the girls on Saturday nite. We're all so busy livin' our lives that we never get to hang out anymore, maybe once or twice a year so I really enjoyed it. The time went by sooooo fast tho! Before I knew it, it was 3:30 in the morning...I got home around 4. I drug myself outta bed about 8:30 yesterday morning and could tell that I really am 32 years old. There's a major difference in how my brain and body handle late nites now as compared to ten years ago!! Felt like someone had thrown a good handful of sand in my eyes and I couldn't seem to find any gear but really, really slow. But, by 9 o' clock last nite, I'd gotten my second wind and couldn't sleep. Bizarre. So, I watched 17 Again instead. Cute movie but not one I'd watch twice.

The weather is just perfect. This time of year makes me miss livin in Nebraska. Even on summer nites, you could get away with wearin' a sweatshirt and a pair of jean shorts....my favorite outfit of all time. Just wish flip flops had been cool back then! They were still called 'thongs' back then, came in black and brown only,they were ugly, cheap, and I'da been laughed right outta town. I still can't get my mother to stop callin' flip flops THONGS!! Ugh...that song ruined that word forever. I love the fact that I can have a pair to match any shirt I own and not go broke buyin' em. Now, if they'd just price Converse comparably, I'd be a happy girl.

Not holdin' my breath...but for now, I'm just thrilled that it feels like FALL outside!! I'm ready to go for a drive and check out the red, orange, and gold trees and decorate my front porch with pumpkins again....to fill up the house with cinnamon and patchouli smells...to build a fire (ok, that one gets old quick)....and to make chili and cornbread again. I LOVE this time of year...wish it lasted longer.

My husband always disappears this time of year...into the woods he goes. Sometimes I see him....but mostly, just evidence OF him. They're opening a bear season down here this year...there are black bears EVERYWHERE right now. He has tons of pictures of one he's found...pretty big for a black bear. Josh turns into a little kid again when he sees the darn thing! He's watched him for too long, don't think he'll go thru with the hunt. We'll see... They really are becoming a nuisance for some folks around these parts tho...and they're gettin really friendly with some houses. Inviting themselves in and everything.

I could never shoot a bear. I think they're just pretty darn awesome...I love to look at them. When I lived in Colorado, they were everywhere. There was a momma and two cubs that used to come right down behind our house and dig in the dumpster. They brought out the crowds for sure...but we all maintained a healthy distance. The little fat, furry babies would climb up the trees and wait to see what their mom was gonna dig out for 'em. Adorable.

I had the priveledge of holding a little cub not long ago. I was in love the minute I saw him....I'm completely senseless when it comes to baby anythings :)!! I wanted one sooooo bad....but what the heck do you do when it becomes a 400 pound bear??? Better leave the bear raisin' to the experts before someone gets eaten.

I've been a fake...

I was driving home last nite listening to Matthew & Taylor tell me about their day @ school. I always have the radio on and last nite it was turned down kinda low, could barely hear it. But I'm drivin along, half listening to the kids, half lost in my own thoughts and I realized I was singin along to this song but didn't really recognize what I was singing. So I started payin' attention to the words that I somehow KNEW, but didn't know, if that makes any sense. By the second line in the chorus I was just nearly broken, and it was fixin' to run out my eyes but I didn't want to freak the teenagers smooth out. I listened to the rest of the song trying to keep my face hidden with my hair (my signature sign that I don't want to talk about it!).

It's funny how words alone just never seem to do justice to what I'm feeling inside, yet, set to music, those same words will cause me to stare in awe at my stereo thinkin, "How could they have known what's trapped in here?". I think it gives me an avenue for expressing what I don't really know how to get out of me. Dunno if that makes sense to anyone else, but it's absolutely crystal clear to me.

For every season of my life, every trial, every troubled time, it seems that eventually, I happen upon a song that speaks deeply to me. It's been this way thru out my life for as far back as I can remember. That was this song for the season Josh and I have been in.

I used to think that my marriage had to be "perfect", at least on the outside. I worked hard to make sure that no one saw how much we struggled just to hold it together, how hard it was, most days, for us to even be nice to each other. I hid things from myself,even, refusing to look at the huge mess my relationship with Josh was. "I'm rejecting this reality and substituting my own" became my life status. Denial is only good until you can no longer buy it. Neither of us was happy and we were sick to death of fakin' it for everyone else. So began the marital revolution... The big 'D' word was thrown back and forth with many obscenities to decorate it. We both threatened to file and dared the other to do it first. Yet, at the end of the day, when all was quiet, and our tempers had left us exhausted, neither one of us wanted to be apart. More than any ounce of dignity & justice we feel we're entitled to, we made a promise we want to honor and we truly do love each other. So, we made an agreement to try harder then we'd ever before and there is where the uphill climb really began.

I'm not gonna' lie, it's been hell. There were too many times when we both knew it would be so much easier to throw in the towel and move on. It's so tempting at times to resort to the old patterns and start the mud slingin' fest all over again. I just keep tellin' myself that all that mud and hate hasn't fixed anything in almost 14 years, why not try something new? It's been the toughest battle I've ever fought. I think Josh would agree and we both know it's not over yet.

In these times that are so often dismal from the inside looking out, I appreciate a glimmer of hope when one comes my way. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." (Prov. 13:12a) My heart has been feelin' a little under the weather lately and it did my mind and heart some good to hear this song. Lets me know that we aren't the only ones who feel like we could fill an ocean with all the heartache we've been thru' and that there really is light at the end of this tunnel.


"If love is an ocean wide, we'll swim in the tears we've cried. They'll see us thru to the other side. We're gonna make it!"

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life."