Waiting

Are you one of my many 3 readers waiting for a new post? Well, here's a story about waiting that I posted on my family blog in January. I've debated over posting it here. Too much information? But, in the end I thought it was too good an example of my day-to-day experience for me not to share with all.

There are many people in my life who are waiting. Among them, my friend Tiff and her family are waiting for news on a potential job that would result in relocation. My neighbors are joyfully awaiting the birth of their first baby sometime soon this month. My family is waiting for my dad to return from Iraq. I do not wish to diminish the worthiness of their noble waiting. But I was afforded a new perspective on waiting today via my not-more-than 3 years and 1 month old.

The three older girls were off to school. Clinton had kissed me goodbye and was well on his way to work. Smallest had gotten up but decided to play in her room. I puttered around with laundry and at the computer when I heard her yelling. She had shut her door, essentially locking herself in. Upon her rescue we headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. But first I needed to make a quick pit-stop.

I scurried to the half-bath off the kitchen. In my haste I failed to notice the empty roll. A quick check under the sink and all around revealed absolutely no more toilet paper.

I called her name.

Head peeking around the door, "Whu' Momma?"

"Could you please go get me some toilet paper?" and I proceeded to describe the 3 fresh rolls sitting on the hamper upstairs in my bathroom.

"O.K.!" And off she went. She didn't return, at least not right away. I called her name twice. The second time I could hear her coming down the back stairs talking to herself. She appeared in the bathroom.

"I can't find it."

I described the location again trying hard to mask my frustration with a sing-songy-you-can-do-this-and-it's-gonna-be-so-great sort of tone. Hoping that would be just the encouragement she needed I sent her back.

Her little feet carried her to the kitchen were she seemed to get distracted by something. I called her name in an effort to re-direct. I heard her reach the kitchen stairs where it seemed she stopped to converse with the cat.

I called her name again. Then I didn't hear anything. I heard nothing for a very long time. I called her name several times.

Then I heard her hurrying in my direction, little whispers mixed with breathing. She poked her head in the door. I could only see her little smiling eyes as she shoved her fist toward me. She was very proud. She opened her small hand and there were 3 whispers of toilet paper waded together - not the size of a quarter.

Breathe. In. Out. Smile. "O.K....Thank you....Could you go get the big toilet paper?" I asked as I pounded tapped the empty dispenser.

"I can't find it."

"Yes you can." And I described it one last time. She even asked a few questions as if to be sure she was heading in the right direction.

Off she went. Never to be seen or heard from again. I called. And I called. And I called. All the while looking again under the sink and devising ways of dealing with the situation without her help. After what felt like an hour - but this whole thing probably lasted a total of 10-15 minutes - I succumbed to the hopelessness of my plight.

I dealt with it. The details I'll spare.

Walking into the kitchen I saw that the stair door was closed. I opened it. Nothing. I couldn't even hear her. Deciding not to call her and not even to mention it I began making breakfast.

Silently but swiftly she appeared in the kitchen. Proudly offering me her little fresh roll of toilet paper.

"Thank you. But it's too late." I said as I took it from her and went to put it on the bathroom sink. She followed me explaining something about all the rolls falling out of a bag (what bag!?) and how she had to put them all back. (you had to put them all back but you can't seem to put a single toy away without being told!? - these thoughts I kept to myself)

Later as we sat side by side eating our scrambled eggs and toast she chirped, "I have to go poopy." As I helped her little tush onto the potty I turned to see the toilet paper on the counter. I would be lying if I said I didn't imagine myself picking it up...

...and disappearing.

Randomishness

• Offspring.
  Directions: Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
  Applications: Endless. The most obvious is their grubby little spring-is-here-lets-roll-in-the-dirt physical bodies. But it seems, at least to me, to apply to so many other areas. Their roller-coaster emotions. Their mental I'm-10, 8, 6 or 3-and-I've-arrived attitudes. And their curious spiritual beings.
  Indications: I'm tired.
  

• I teach a scrapbooking class for high-school students. I shared some family albums with them this week. A few of the girls told me I looked like Catherine Zeta-Jones. Ok. So the pictures were from like 10+ years ago. But I'm gonna hold onto to Catherine for a little while because I coulda' swore that Russell Crowe was looking back at me from my bathroom mirror this morning.

• Some things I'm thankful for and/or blessed by right at this moment.
  
  1. A day spent with a friend. We are deepening our friendship and our understanding of God together. We are unalike and very alike. This journey is a little scary but promises to be exciting. It felt like God hugged us today.
  2. The AMAZING, BRILLIANTLY BEAUTIFUL, SUNSHINY DAY!
  3. Oh. And coffee.
     

Six Word Memoir

Four Girls: It's Like Herding Cats

I was tagged by Betsy at My Five Men to play.

Rules:
1. Write your own six-word memoir.

2. Post it on your blog (include a visual illustration if you’d like).

3. Link to the person who tagged you in your post.

4. Tag five more blogs with links.

5. Leave comment on the tagged blogs with invitation to play.

I’m tagging these five bloggers:

Tiffanie at New Every Morning
Amy at Open to Grace
Jenni at One Thing
Anna at Create In Me!
Kerry at RichandKerry.com

Four Score & Five Years

"Birthdays are good for you.
Studies show that the people who have the most,
live the longest."
- Unknown

Friday evening we celebrated my grandfather's 85th birthday. As I sat at my computer late that night my mind was flooded with memories. My eyes stung with happy tears. Wanting to write a post but being so tired, I began a simple list to be revisited later. Now it is later.

The majority of my happy childhood memories revolve around visits with my grandparents, Nannie & Poppie, at their home not far from where we live now. We didn't live here when I was growing up so most of our visits took place over holidays and summers - happy events to begin with.

Words on a blog could never come close to describing the deep, life-changing impact Poppie has had on my life. But, I can honor him as I share with you some glimpses into my memories of him.

These things flash through my mind when I remember being very little and being with my Poppie: hearing him pray, making oatmeal raisin cookies, listening to him tell me Meese’s stories, his Donald Duck voice, rides in the wheel barrow, and whiskery kisses. Meeses were really mice and there was always a Jenny Meese.

Later we often had long talks. Not meaning that the conversations themselves were long. They were carefully chosen words that spread over the time it took to fish, pull weeds, take a walk, plant tomatoes, pick berries or take a drive to go help a neighbor. I only remember the topics of a few of those talks but all of them left me with a sense that I was cared for; that what I had to say was valued and worth the listening.

He taught me how to, among other things: bait a hook, cast a fly, clean a fish and row a boat.

I was called Petunia, Petunia Bud, Hortence, Alice or Ol’ Bean more often than I was called by my given name. I still get Alice and Ol' Bean every once in a while.

To this day I love to see a bright orange salamander or tiny brown toads. Why? Because I can close my eyes and feel the summer sun on my face, smell cut grass and freshly tilled earth, see Poppie walking toward me in the garden saying the familiar with a smile much like the one in the picture above, "Close your eyes and hold out your hands..." then feel a wriggly, miniature reptile in my palm.

The endeavors and accomplishments of any of his offspring (blood-related or by-marriage) bring him more pride and joy than I have ever seen in one person. He is the ultimate bragger in the absolute best way possible.

He helped to care for, with tenderness and love, his mother-in-law for the many years that she lived under his roof until her peaceful home-going in 1995. I'm so thankful for that legacy given to me by both him and my Nannie. That legacy began well before I was born when they also cared for both of his parents in the same way.

It's my turn now. I can never repay what he has given to me. But I can give him unconditional love. Shower him with affection and appreciation. I can slow my pace a bit and just be there.

The ripples of time have begun to smooth out many memories for him. They aren't so quickly called to mind. Some have faded away completely. But, because he loves a good story, we re-visit those memories with him. And we are all the richer for it.

Tutored

The Far Side by Gary Larson. Classic.

Overheard Surrounding the Recent Event
of Having Our Two Kittens "Tutored" and Declawed

8 yr. old - "...so they rearranged her mommy parts so she won't have babies."

Clinton to Jen - "Should we keep them separated for a few more days? He's acting a little frisky." 10 & 5 year old eavesdroppers replied, "What does frisky mean?"

5 yr. old on the way to pick up the cats from the vet - "I can't wait to see what they look like without their paws."

Happy Day

Ok. I know. Two posts in one day. Can you handle it? I had to show you my cake and share a couple more of my cards. Like this one from Mr. Smartypants Clinton and the girls. "You're in Our Thoughts at This Sad Time. Beyond the darkness, light...Beyond the sorrow, peace. At this time of loss, please know that we're thinking of you and holding you close to our hearts." And then he writes "We mourn the loss of your youth along with you." And has all the girls sign it. Cute.

And Virginia gave me her card. I have to share it just as she wrote it. I love it. "Happy Birthday MOM! You are the best...gratest funest Mom ever in my life (thanks for being so great!) Happy St. Patrics Day 2! love you Virginia."

Back to the cake. We had dinner. The kids had their baths. The girls had decorated the dining room for dinner and we all gathered there again for "no dessert." They had been trying to keep the cake a secret. They stink at keeping secrets. It was especially hard on them because all evening Abigail would wail, "Where's da cake!?" And all three of the girls would feel obligated to shush her and say in their loud whispers "remember we're having the cake later..."

Ok. I'll be done now. But there is more. Maybe on the family blog tomorrow.

happy birthday to me

Happy Birthday To Me

Before my eyes were completely open I had a large construction paper card thrust in my hands. It said, "Happy Birthday Mom! I 'heart' U Mom! Happy Birthday Mom 'Smiley Face' To: Mom Love: Anna" It made my sleepy heart warm.

Lily made me a card too. Well, the oldest helped quite a lot I was informed. Still, Lily is in kindergarten. The effort was lovely and so was seeing her little signature. Just looking at it makes me happy.

My Sweetie made a me a wonderful cup of coffee and was just about to bring it to me but I shuffled into the kitchen before he could.

It seemed I had at least 35 kisses - ahem. thirty-five. - before the 3 older girls twirled out the door to school.

My in-laws called last night with birthday wishes, wanting to be sure not to miss me today.

My grandparents, in their beautifully sweet 83 year old voices just called me and sang Happy Birthday. Tradition.

And my day is still beginning.

I feel old. But I feel very loved.

Talk about irrational love - my girls demonstrate that to me so often. Some days I peck at them fiercely like a mother hen. "Peck-peck-peck-up your clothes. Stop peck-peck-pecking your nose. If I have to peck-peck-peck-up your shoes one more time.... NO! You can't have it, stop peck-peck-pecking at me!" (Use your best shrill, chickeny voice when you read those.)

So, with all that pecking, sometimes it amazes me when they fly freely to wrap their arms tightly around me with an I-love-you and today, Happy-Birthday, Momma.

I guess 35 isn't so bad. It's just a number, right? Although it is a half-way kind of number. Half-way to 40. Truth be told, just saying 40 gives me a cold chill. I don't feel 35. Most days I don't even feel 30. Maybe it's all the little people around me and especially all the love, sometimes irrational, that makes me feel so young. So, Happy Birthday to me. sigh.

**unrelated: For my family blog readers...there are some new posts up. ;-)**

Home

We left on the 15th for my brother & sister-in-law's with the plan of hanging out, shopping in the big city, and eating in the big city until my Dad returned on the 18th. Then we would travel home on the 19th. As we headed out the door we got word that he would be in on the 16th! That was an amazing surprise. It gave us 2 more days with him. And we still got to eat and eat and eat and eat in the big city.

His trip went really well. Thanks to all of you who were praying for his safe return.


Waiting.















Mob hugs.

















Home.
This is one of the few shots where his eyes are open. He had been up for about 24 hours.















More pictures and more of a post up soon over at our family blog.

happy happy

"We cough because we can't help it,
but others do it on purpose."
~ Mignon McLaughlin

So many of the people I love are sick. I know it doesn't seem like it now but, you will get better.


We are better here. Mostly. And gearing up for a trip to Virginia where we will be welcoming home my dad! This time next week and he will have been home for two days. The girls are beside themselves with excitement. Not only is PopPop coming home but they will be spending 4 days with their beloved cousin. There isn't much normalcy around here right now. Mostly a lot of spinning about like tops. And add to it all a snow day. Oh, and Valentine's Day parties tomorrow. Can this week get any better?

In which we find Quotations about Feeling Terrible, Sad and Pathetic

" 'And how are you?' said Winnie-the-Pooh. Eeyore shook his head from side to side. 'Not very how,' he said. 'I don't seem to have felt at all how for a long time.' " - A.A. Milne ~ Winnie-the-Pooh

I just got a nudge from Anna, she commented on my last post and began it with, "I think this blog post has been up long enough for table talk...."

Well, Anna. I sat down here yesterday and only managed to read a couple of posts and comment on one, on your blog. Then the earth opened and swallowed me whole.

Actually, it all began 10 days ago on Jan. 27. Early that morning, both daughters 1 and 3 were looking quite peaked and one eventually began a fever, then the other. We couldn't have known it then but it takes about 5-7 days for this to run it course. In the coming days we fell, one by one. The smallest was the next to fall. "My eyeballs hwrt, momma." Then daughter 2 and I found ourselves sprawled on the living room couches this past Friday. My Sweetie seemed unscathed until last night. Poor guy has been trying to keep up with work, take care of us and all of this on very little sleep. He's off working today and we are praying that he will be spared the worst.

This has been unlike any flu I've ever had. On Friday I could only lay on the couch and grunt at the kids. Sometimes I could wiggle a finger for emphasis. It felt as if I was giving a fat man a ride on my shoulders. And I was lying down. Once the fat man left it was like something evil was trying to escape from my insides and wanted to go through my back and shoulders. Sunday was better. I really thought I was on the mend. Monday the fat man was back and this time he was plugging my nose as he rode. I hate mouth-breathing and I'm such a wuss. By Monday night I just wanted to die. I was a mess of chills, aches, congestion and had jello for muscles. Tears of self-pity really don't help the whole congestion thing, ya know. This morning was better. The fat man was gone and I could breathe a little better but a crippling headache had been brewing. Thankfully, I was able to sleep a little this morning while PBS babysat so the headache is gone. I really do feel as if I'm getting better. I was able to make lunch without wanting to curl up on the kitchen floor. Progress.

I'd love to draw some wonderful spiritual analogy or share some snippet of insight that I gained through all of this. I got nothin'. Perhaps He will enlighten me upon a more distant reflection. I'll have to leave that up to Him because for now this is going down in family history as 10+ days of misery and it ain't over yet.

Oh, I would be remiss if I didn't share a few rays of sunshine through this whole ordeal. My friend Ruth called yesterday and said, "Can I bring you dinner?" Um, YES. I hung up my phone and cried. And, on very many of these days I had committed my time to my friend, Tiff, for babysitting. She has been so gracious and so flexible. More crying. At the beginning of the last 10 days my mom was here and kept me company. And yesterday she brought us some groceries. Chicken noodle soup even. :0) Thanks, Mom.

"...Piglet explained to Tigger that he mustn't mind what Eeyore said because he was always gloomy; and Eeyore explained to Piglet that, on the contrary, he was feeling particularly cheerful this morning."
- A.A. Milne ~ The House at Pooh Corner

Only 44 Days!

Thanks to any who have been praying for my Dad. When I posted It's Only 180 Days, it was hard to even imagine this day, let alone his return in just more than a month!

So as of right now, he still pretty much looks like this...


He's been able to keep in touch really well via e-mail and phone calls. That has helped us all tremendously. And he's obviously been able to send a few pictures. Pictures aren't really his thang but I'm really glad he has sent them and let me share a couple.

We all loved this one of him with some of the gifts we sent.



Only 44 more days and my folks will be smiling like this again. They took this of themselves (hence the extreme close-up) the day they closed on a little cottage in the Thousand Islands this past summer.


We all are pining to be back there again this spring!
Like this...


We'll keep counting the days, Dad!
I love you.

"It's only 180 days"

"I'm so depressed. I just ate 5 cupcakes. Didn't even chew. I just swallowed them like pills."

That is a quote from one of my sweetest -and funniest- friends, Kerry. She wrote it in an e-mail to me just days before we moved. I thought of it because it pretty much describes me. If I had 5 cupcakes right now.

In about an hour my Dad will board a plane for Iraq and won't return for 6 months. The last time he went away for 6 months was during Desert Storm. I was in high school. It's been more than 15 years but I recognize the heavy knot twisting in my stomach.

A friend and I were talking about his upcoming departure and said, "I guess I didn't think about...well...guys his age having to go." That was cute. It made me realize that most people assume that if you are going to Iraq you are in the military and are probably younger. My dad is a civilian and has worked in the field of intelligence ever since he left the Army as a young man.

He didn't have to go. He wants to go. He told my girls about it in ways they could understand. "I'm going to help the soldiers and to help the war be over sooner." He is going to make a difference and I believe that he can. My dad works at things that are purposeful. He is not willing to give his time to efforts for the sake of effort alone. He demands results. I respect that.

I believe in him. I'm proud of him. It still has been so hard to say goodbye. We were with my parents, brother, sister-in-law and niece this past weekend in Virginia. We all had such a good time together. Clinton, the kids and I left Monday evening. It was so hard not to just hang on his neck and sob "Don't go!" I've been trying to figure out why I feel this way. Feel so strongly. I mean, when I was in high school, he was still the only man in my life. My daddy. Now I have a wonderfully committed, loving husband who is the only man I really need in my life.

It came to me this evening when he called one last time on his way to the airport. We talked for a minute and I made him laugh out loud. He talked to each of the girls and then we got back on for one last goodbye. The words started to stick in my throat. He did the same thing he did on my wedding day. He spoke lovingly and reassuringly through his own tears. On that day it was, "You're going to do great. You look beautiful." Today it was, "It's going to be o.k. I'll be back before you know it. It's only 180 days."

So, as I sat on my steps crying I realized how far we have come, my dad and I. In some ways I have felt closer to him. Little things like being able to make him laugh seem huge to me - as if he is finally letting me into his world that he protected so fiercely for so many years. And, watching him with my daughters has let me feel like he is a part of my life in a way I didn't experience as a child. So, all these developments in our relationship - all these warm fuzzies - and now the big empty gap. Maybe that's why it has been so difficult to say goodbye.

I'm not sure what will happen in the next 6 months but I can know that God does. He knows just how everything will go. The girls have had some sad moments since we've been back from Virginia. We just keep reminding them to pray for PopPop. To keep placing him in God's hands. We pray His protection, His strength, His will, His wisdom and His blessing over my dad.

We helped the girls make a little tribute video for my parent's anniversary. We made it with my dad's trip in mind. They each have a copy and Dad was able to take his with him.
The girls sang this at the end of the video.

The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make His face shine upon you.
And give you peace, and give you peace
And give you peace forever.

Offspring Malfunction

Disclaimer - this post is a major suck-up attempt yet it is true and full of sincerity.

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. I forgot. Well, I didn't so much forget the day as I did forget to call and acknowledge the day. Thankfully my mother is gracious and loving, willing to over-look my shortcomings. She rests peacefully in the knowledge that when her children and husband forget her birthday we apologize profusely and try to make it up to her in exaggerated ways. (Yes, you read the last sentence correctly. We all forgot. I forgot. My brother forgot. My father forgot.)

Here are some things I love about my mom...

She loves and gives sacrificially

She finds delight and joy in really knowing her granddaughters

When I was young, she believed in me even when I gave her no earthly good reason to do so

Although more health-conscious ways have prevailed in our lives as of late, she and I can polish off a pan of rice-krispy treats before the end of a 1/2 hour sitcom.

She can beat us all at Tetris

She makes a mean from-scratch-cinnamon-bun and the best-I've-ever-had peach pies

She is a constant, faithful friend...one of my very best

Oh...and she forgives me when I forget her birthday

I love you, Mom...so very much. Happy be-lated Birthday!

"Open" love-letter

Still speaking of love, 13 years ago today my husband asked me to stay with him for the rest of our lives. I had no clue what "the rest of our lives" really meant (and I know we have only scratched the surface!) and I certainly didn't spend much time thinking, "What will our lives look like 13 years from now?...how will our love have grown?" I mostly remember the floating feeling, staring at my ring until I fell asleep and formulating my case to my parents as to why getting married 3 months before my college graduation "just made sense!"

6 vehicles, 5 moves, 4 new human beings, 3 states, 2 cats & 1 new house later...here we are...still in love...more in love.

I can't speak for Clinton, but I didn't get what I signed up for.

He is more faithful, more loving, more honest, more supportive, more compassionate, more unselfish than I ever would have imagined. Some of these things I simply could not know because we hadn't gone through trials and testing together. But as the events of our life together have unfolded, he continues to amaze me. He rises to a standard far higher than one I could set. Because of a relationship that was established about 15 years before I married him, he reaches toward a higher goal, he reaches out to Christ who is the reason Clinton is who he is today...and why he can love me irrationally!

On our wedding day, 1 year-1 month-5 days after our engagement, I sang these words to Clinton.

"I see Jesus in your eyes and it makes me love you.
I feel Jesus in your touch and I know He cares.
I hear Jesus in your voice and it makes me listen.
And I trust you with my love because your His.
I see Him, I see Him in you."

I still see, feel, hear and trust...

Thanks for reading and sharing one of the joys of my heart!


Until the snow clears...
love,
me