Cover Me

I LOVE VALENTINE'S DAY!! Way too much for a single lady.  But man I love it, I was gathering my cards and addressing them the other morning and did a quick check of the paper for one customer.  I had done the same thing around Christmastime, because I'd gotten really lax with checking the paper everyday.  I knew this day was going to come, I knew when his daughter told me a different story than he did when she returned my Tupperware, but you hope and you pray but the inevitable will happen.  With that I began thinking back over my time getting to serve him as his "sales lady Angie," and aside from daughter and mom, it's my favorite title so far.

"So encourage each other and build each other up...." I Thessalonians 5:11

I first met Fred in 2013.  I sold him, okay he knew the owner, I showed him how to operate his 2013 Equinox and did some paperwork.  He'd come in from time to time to get a quick lesson, or when the time changed, or for whatever else he needed.  His trips became more frequent after his wife passed away.  I got to be the jerk that asked January of 2014 if he and his wife had a good holiday.  I felt like an idiot.  But Fred kept stopping by, after the Y, or getting groceries.  We'd chat.  He told me Pastor Hollis once did a conference for John Deere in LAS VEGAS.  A detail my parents left out.  They were all shocked he'd even go to Las Vegas and I almost called Fred a liar.  He'd talk about getting to go to a high school reunion, he brought his friend one time.  He sent his other friends too.   He stopped in for a cup of coffee and I sat down with him each time. Sometimes I got funny looks from sales managers, but those changed after the first few times.  They also never came from the ones that mattered, those guys would smile and walk by.  I always said if I was too busy to sit down with Fred and have a cup of coffee I was too busy.  One thing is for sure, Dean could tell me my buddy was there, and I lit up and dropped what I was doing every time.  

Last Valentine's Day I had a decision to make, it would have been my first Valentine's Day remarried, it was not.  I could be bitter.  That was definitely a choice I could've made.  I'm so thankful I didn't.  I got up that morning and I needed a screwdriver so I finally unwrapped one that was in my desk since Christmas of the previous year.  One car sold, then another, then another.  First hat trick.  It's where my lucky screwdriver and I first began.  He's a gem and likely the one.  After work I had to run by and stick a Valentine under someone's windshield wiper before I went home to third wheel my roommates Valentine's Day dinner and then ultimately settle in to watch some NASCAR.  I felt like such a rebel sneaking around a retirement home parking lot so I could bless someone.  By far the greatest Valentine's Day I'll ever experience.  I got to do what I love, and serve someone other than myself.  Then on Monday I was sitting in my office and got a call from Fred.  I won't ever forget it.  I mean I've forgotten what he said but not his tone.   His voice oozed with joy as he thanked me.  It was by far the coolest thing I had ever done for another human being.  And really, it's nothing compared to what I've received from Fred.

Fred had a unique way of walking in for coffee right when I needed the encouragement.  He and the Holy Spirit were apparently pretty chummy.  I'll never forget this one night, there were many, but this one.  It was after this super victorious Valentine's Day even but there I was wide awake in the middle of the night just sobbing.  I knew God was sovereign, I knew he kept us here for the stellar year we experienced, Bailey was doing GREAT in school, Kiki her teacher was handmade for teaching Bailey, and is one of the godliest and dearest friends I have, so is Caitlin, I wouldn't have known them had I not sold Jon a car and been set up with him, and Megan had yet another person wrapped around her finger, which is good because there's a box addressed to DC just her size if she steps out of line. She even met a former candidate for governor by running up to Jon while he was chatting with him.  Oh Megan.  We love Jon the elephant, he's a wonderful friend to the Hewitts and NOT just because he buys cars without negotiating!  But I would've never been set up with Jon if... I knew in my head and my heart how sovereign God was.  I had seen time and time and time again how he had just been so faithful to my little family.  But there were still those nights that no matter how much I could see manifesting in my life that proved Romans 8:28, I still just couldn't and that night I didn't just cry.  I cried out to God.  Please give me a real reason why I needed to stay in the Quad Cities because I need it, I shouldn't be here and you know it just as much as I do.  Immediately he put not just my job but my favorite customer on my mind.  Who would sit and have coffee with Fred?  The next day guess who walked in my showroom door.  I went and got him a cup of coffee and we sat.  Who knows what he said I don't, I just sat there in awe of the perks of my calling.  I sell cars, but more importantly I serve people and it ministers to me too!  We aren't all crooks.  Actually this is why I do what I do, the people.  For the Freds.  I sell cars, but I sit and have coffee, I hold the hand of a widow that had to buy a car alone for the first time in many years, I get to hold my customers newborn when they stop in for an oil change.  I literally have the coolest job in the entire world.

So here's my heart and the whole point of this post, ESPECIALLY if you're single, you have a choice Sunday.  You can be bitter and you can sulk.  Or maybe you can reach out to grandma, or grandpa, or anyone from a previous generation that never expected to even go through a day without their love.  Or maybe even you know someone that's gone through a rough divorce and needs encouragment.  We all know someone we can send a card to, take to lunch, or send flowers too.  I know in my church, our widows are AMAZING and many of us can thank them for more than we even realize.  I think frequently of Grace, Peggy, and Barb.  Their faithfulness, their strength, their encouragement, their heart for younger generations.  So I encourage you this Valentine's day, single or not, but especially single, reach out.  Get over yourself, you will NOT regret it, and hopefully the only bitterness in your Valentine's Day comes on February 15th when you buy that dark chocolate and bring it to me at Zimmerman Honda. 

I had one less Valentine to send this year, and it would've been addressed to the gentleman that encouraged me without even knowing it.  He is the guy that prompted this shift in perspective on this day that creates such a good opportunity to just be a blessing.  It's that simple.  Just be a blessing.  Every single cup of coffee, card sent, meal delivered will absolutely be worth it someday.  No regrets.

Down

I still remember the day I was diagnosed.  It was 2012 just a month after my husband moved out.  I was sitting in the specialist's office at the University of Iowa and we were going over all the physical dos and don'ts.  No running, the impact was too much.  Goodbye six minute mile.  No bike riding, too risky.  Use special soap for clothes, and the shower, just in case. The physical therapy, the multiple medications and their side effects....

Then she said something to me that stuck out, "you may experience anxiety and depression as a result of all this."  I immediately responded back, "Oh no, I'm a christian.  I'll be fine." 

Let's fast forward to sitting on the edge of my bath tub almost two years later.  He said something that devastated me.  He didn't even think I was a christian at this point, I know he didn't because a few months earlier I couldn't even pick up my Bible, and his comment was something to the effect of telling me I needed more Jesus and I wouldn't be like this.  That was basically how it all ended for me.  I was so angry when really I had been so naive myself to think that when I was initially diagnosed, so why was I so mad NOW?

I was fine until somewhere around fall of 2013.  I'm not a big fan of crowds anyway, but being in the downtown Rochester library shouldn't be this hard.  After all, most these people I came with.  Oh we're having lunch at what I assume was the hospital, still downtown.  What?  Why?  Great this is how it ends.  So what was the big deal?  Well.  The big deal was a panic attack.  I couldn't get back to the place I was staying fast enough.  I was able to calm myself by sitting on the kitchen floor just breathing.  Then the next day.  I had to leave the house again.  It was thanksgiving and he was ready to go to his church to meet his family, but I was paralyzed in a little girl's room.  I couldn't cry, I couldn't communicate.  Nothing.  I just laid there in the floor.  Finally he was able to help me move enough to get into bed and I don't really remember.  I think I was able to take a nap.   My hair and make up were wrecked.  I looked like crap but I was able to make it and basically got to just hold a baby the whole time, and got to escape the crowded church basement to go check out someones new car and show off my VIN reading skills.  I was able to calm down, but drove home so excited to get back to my small town.  Surely that was only happening because I was out of my element.  It wasn't anything crazy.  Denial is fun.

Then about a month later I drove home back to my safe, familiar small town with something on my left hand.  That's when it got BAD.  I was just going to the bank on my lunch break at work, that's all, but then I turned into oncoming traffic to get off the "busy" road because someone sent me a text.  Oh hello panic attack.  Lovely to see you.  I almost caused an accident, and got honked at, and just had to crank the AC in December and cry until I could calm down.  I couldn't even eat and went back to work a mess. Why did it happen?  I was overwhelmed so so overwhelmed.  It was just the traffic though, or the text message, it's been a busy season I'm still not crazy.  Still denying.

It was shortly after this it became more than just anxiety and "not liking crowds."  I had a hard time even picking up my bible.  If God was so good, why do I literally have everything I ever wanted but I'm like this?  I've never been like this, I've buried my mom, my dad, had a husband leave and I've NEVER been like this before.  Something changed that Christmas, a fog moved in. The depression got so bad that I had a plan and ultimately didn't do it because, "what will people think?  I have it all.  What will people think of him if I do this?" WHY AM I LIKE THIS? I'm a Christian. Something had to give.  This fog was too much. I began to not deny something was wrong, my doctor was right, I did need to watch out for this.

I only share those instances because that's when it was the worst.  Something I've realized in the time since is that when these fogs and moments of anxiety are extra bad, God is up to something.  Let me say that again, EVERY TIME GOD HAS BEEN UP TO SOMETHING.  What matters now is how I react.  Spiritual warfare?  I heard a podcast last year that changed by perspective.  He literally used the fog of depression as an example.  It could easily be spiritual warfare in my life and again, it matters how I react.  Actually changing my perspective is what helped me to suffer less.  I realized after mapping out the times and the worst lows, it was likely totally spiritual warfare.  If God is challenging me and stretching me and moving me into good stuff, then NATURALLY the enemy will do anything to stop it.  I committed to reacting in a healthy manner from then on.  Not in a destructive manner that had the enemy thinking he won.  He won that battle, but not the war.  Oh but, depression doesn't make me less loved.  It isn't something I can will away with a Bible verse, but it is an area where Jesus can heal me.

This Tuesday was hard, the fog moved in.  Literally all of a sudden. I texted my closest friend and asked that she pray with me.  I've learned to maintain a picture of the big picture.  It's just a day, his mercies are new every morning.  So, no I did not beat anxiety and depression this last Tuesday.  But it didn't beat me either.  In these moments I have learned to not be so foolish.  I have learned to accept grace.  I have learned to cling tighter to Jesus because no its not just because "I don't have enough Jesus," but why wouldn't my savior want to take this burden too?  Daily I have to lay it at the feet of the cross.  Sometimes I am VICTORIOUS, sometimes it's just a foggy day and I rest in knowing his mercies are new every morning.  The road to the complete healing I expect is a journey.  I've learned so much and have been stretched so much.  My reaction to these instances is key.  So, maaaaaybe, he was right kind of?  I don't need more of Jesus, because he already gave me everything he had at Calvary, but I do need to cling tighter to Him.

My brothers and sisters, consider yourselves fortunate when all kinds of trials come your way, for you know that when your faith succeeds in facing such trials, the result is the ability to endure.

In the heat of the fire, my endurance is tested and just like those boys from Daniel, I'm not alone in that fire.  It is then that I need to exercise my faith, and endure by clinging to my savior.  The victory has already been won.  But I'm no less valued by my creator or loved ones even on days I don't win the battle.   I now know, after about 3.5 years into this journey that its more important that I finish strong, and I will not allow the enemy anymore territory in my life.  2 years ago, a day like Tuesday would've broken me.  But it didn't because I've committed to keeping perspective.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

Wake up, think to myself about my super fun Saturday night with the gals. "I got to be a Christian, that can have fun out and about and not compromise, oh and be young. I'm basically a baller."  I was also home and in bed by midnight.  BALL-ER.

Hop in the shower, listen to a podcast, Chip is good. He's challenging and based in the Word. Yeah buddy!

I go throw on a basketball tee, cozy scarf, and my slouchy sweater. Oh and my dorky glasses. I am ready for church. Bring it. Oh yeah, messy bun it is.

Ministry time. I get to pray with the man that prayed with my dad when he accepted Jesus as his Savior, and his wife. But this time, we were joined together in prayer believing for a miracle. A miracle that I'm willing to stand in the gap for. I can't wait to hear, "Hey Annie guess what..." Because see, sometimes you stand in the gap for things that matter, people that matter.

"Aww man, Scott's preaching on my jam today!!" Scott preached out of Genesis. My favorite passage, and well duh, I have a thing for Esau. But mostly Genesis 24 and 25 is hitting me HARD so far this year. Good stuff. Solid preaching. Challenging. Don't give up, don't settle for the temporary. God has a plan A, no compromising with a plan B. No back up. Whoo. My own study and my pastor's just collided. Daaaaaang. That's what's up.

Lunch with the fam. "Momma, I better not suck my thumb or Larry might cut it off." Oh yeah Larry was there. We love Larry. Such joy from two little girls, two little girls that have been praying and continue to pray for Larry. Bailey prays, and it's stupid powerful. Don't mess with her. She floors me, I couldn't be prouder of her faith and her intuition. Oh that Bailey.

Chores in the afternoon, oh laundry. Oh but what? Marco Rubio in town? Better make that reservation. But first, two little girls cheer for basketball. Okay, the wrong team. But can you really be mad when they can tell you what's going on in an NBA game? Nuh uh. No way.

MARCO RUBIO!! More excited little girls. Ran into my old boss and his wife. Bailey fell asleep. But woke up on the way home and apparently some of that kick butt rally kicked in because one, she said Marco Rubio would treat our country nice and that he was handsome. Also made a comment about getting really cool shoes, running to DC, and being President when she's big. Guess who's getting shoe game for her birthday? Wait, I don't even have shoe game. Better ask Dolan for help. 

Megan made the news! With piggy! Marco Rubio rally was a success!!

Go home, read, pray, hug and kiss. Get ready for Monday.

I love Sundays so much. They're sacred, and quite honestly I have quite the life.

Best Thing

This holiday season I set forth into a new year, and decided alright.  I love my Lilly Pulitzer but I'll be darned if that planner doesn't own me.  I set forth to be more unplanned and open and instead of a to do list, I was going to make a to BE list.  Be kind, be loving, be open.  So much more attainable. I've got this.  But like most things the Lord puts on my heart, that's not all... It NEVER is.  Ever.

It's not just about what I need to do or what I need to be but where He's leading me.

"One day as Jesus was walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers-- Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew-- throwing a net into the water, for they fished for a living.  Jesus called out to them, "Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!"  And they left their nets at once and followed him.

A little father up the shore he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, repairing their nets.  And he called them to come, too.  They immediately followed him, leaving the boat and their father behind."

THIS IS WHAT THE GOSPEL REQUIRES SOMETIMES.  We have to leave the familiar and what we dearly love behind.  It's not just about checking off a list but choosing a commitment.  I was so committed to my own father so this hit me hard.  Am I more committed to my comfort zone than I am to my God?

Am I willing to follow where Jesus leads without question? Will I stop whatever I'm doing, my projects, my relationships, my family, my job if it is so required in order to follow where he is leading?  We do secular ministry over here. I have the best job, it's a new job, I just stepped out of my comfort zone, its exciting and challenging!  But I'm not convinced I'm at the Honda dealer for the cars.  I still after a few months cannot see why God led me here, but he has.  We're out of my comfort zone and that's where this new year leaves me.  I've already considered going back when a challenge arose.  I need to invest in Jesus and HIS plan for me, not mine.  Truthfully a challenge isn't a sign to go back but to push forward.  Challenges are confirmation.  I know I'm to be HERE, but I don't know why and that's okay, we don't always have to know why.  Actually a little mystery is nice.  Alright terrifying might be a better term.  But I do know if the disciples can leave EVERYTHING and follow Jesus then I can too.  That's what 27 is about.  Just going and jumping off the deep end and trusting God.  It may not make sense.  It's not going to turn out the way I planned but it WILL turn out.  I need to be generous with my future and invest in the eternal and expect a wild ride.

Maybe BE BRAVE should be number one on my to be list.  The best thing I can do is just trust Jesus and leave the past including my cushy comfort zone behind! Yikes.  

Love Walks In

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
A discussion.

I was asked if I believed in it this week and I'd never really thought about it. But since then, all I've really thought about is my stance on this issue. Hard telling why. I'd gone a lifetime not really thinking about it and not really caring. I know God's timing is perfect so that might be believing in meant to be but I can't say yay or nay on love at first sight.

I still can't for sure. Because the cynic in me says that's a line. Males use it when meeting pretty females for the first time to make them think... I don't know really. I also can't tell you why guys use lines. Do they work? Eh, yes probably.

So... Love at first sight. My first thought was simply what I stated earlier. I've never thought much about it. On second thought I realized it HAD happened to me. 

I knew from the moment I laid eyes on it at Courtesy it was meant to be in my garage.  I had fallen in love. The lucky recipient? What would become MY VERY OWN, 2007 Jeep Compass. Red of course. It was the same feeling I had with my Red Saturn, and Blue Saturn, and Caviler... Etc, etc. At first glance, I knew they were meant to be mine.

I'm not being smart here either. There's a certain pride, and well love that I have for automobiles. 

The other times I've experienced love at first sight? Well, I'm a mom so my kids? Actually no. 

At first glance I became aware of the task at hand. I'm a very task oriented person. So I saw the responsibility to raise a good person. Did I love them, sure. But again. I was consumed by caring for them. Keeping them happy, and clean, and fed. Love grew.

The two situations I've just described are two different "loves." I may have fallen in love at first sight with my cars, and I still do love them, but I traded them. They're just things and I know that. (that being said, I love my Jeeps.....SO MUCH) I loved them immensely at first but, it faded I guess otherwise I couldn't have traded them.

With the love that grew, Megan and Bailey. 
I love them. It wasn't "love at first sight," but it's a love that's grown. I love them both more now than the day they were born. I've gotten to know them, their little personalities, their likes and dislikes and I do things that they like just because they like them, not always because I like them. 

As I sit here thinking about the comparison I just made, I guess I don't believe in "love at first sight." I guess for me, love is worth more if it's grown, cultivated, and invested into. Not something that just exists. Love is work and it takes time. I don't believe you can know in an instant.

But, can you? Now I've begun thinking about the first time I met important people in my life. I won't say it was "love at first sight," but there was an element of instantly being aware of....something. 

The second time? Hold on, I'm counting backwards here.
The second time I instantly knew anything was the night I was introduced to someone who became a very good friend. In that instance I remember thinking, they'll be important. I just didn't know how. They were important, we became friends and still are. We've had our ups and downs, but I can say that little hunch at first glance was right. 

Okay. Now the first time.
I walked into one of my classes and I just remember thinking, "Huh...I wouldn't mind if he asked me out on a date." I never did anything about it. If I remember correctly it was second semester of freshman year, so it was right after I met the first Joe and that preoccupied me for that entire semester. I guess I missed an opportunity. But then after high school we actually ended up going on a couple dates or so. He was someone when I look back I can say, "He was nice. I'm actually better for that." It just didn't work out which later I would realize was the story of my life. :)

Makes me think, maybe back then if I would've given "love at first sight" a chance, maybe things would've turned out differently. Because ultimately I married a guy that the first time I saw him I thought, "Wow, those are some awful pants.... And he's weird." 

So......the jury's still out on whether or not I believe in love at first sight. Maybe for some people.

All I know is that I do believe in things that take time, they tend to last. You go about things slowly and take your time learning things about the other person. You INVEST and I like the idea of that. I like investing in other people.

But then again, I could be wrong. I have an appointment with a divorce attorney on Tuesday. I obviously know nothing.

That's life. 

Your Mother Should Know

New annoying mom chain status update going around on facebook.  What else is there to do other than dissect it?  I know right, I couldn't think of anything either.

Here it is as seen on facebook:  "JUST A MOM????.....  I can't stand it when people say, "Your JUST a mom?" Yes, I am a Mom!  That makes me an alarm clock, cook, maid, waitress, teacher, nurse, referee, handyman, security officer, photographer, counselor, chauffeur, event planner, Hairdresser, personal assistant, ATM & I scare away the boogie man.  Id don't get paid holidays, sick pay or days off.  I work through the DAY & NIGHT.  I am on call 24/7 for the rest of my life.  And that's just with BEING A MOM.. !! I may not be anything to you but I am everything to someone!!  Re post if your a proud mom, that would do ANYTHING on this planet for their child <3 !"

First off, dear Jesus remove teacher.  Your?  You meant you're.  Dear whoever originally wrote this, I want a red pen so badly right now...  But, I digress. 

In reality if you aren't a stay at home mom you have NEVER been called "just a mom."  You have a work title, or career and people respect that.  If you work or go to school no one's calling you "just a mom."  That's coming from someone who was a stay at home mom.  I was guilty of saying that I was "just a mom."  Because I was.  I didn't need to remind people to pat me on the back for doing what was expected.  Everyone knows it's not like we're sitting around eating bon-bons all day, and if you are, you're probably the mom that is constantly reminding people you aren't "just a mom."  Soapbox over, now begins the fun part of dissecting the heck out of this thing:

An alarm clock... Yeah, I guess.  But I mean, I'm not so sure I want to refer to myself as an appliance.  I make sure my kids are where they need to be when they need to be there.  It's part of the job, no need for a special title like alarm clock.  Fancy pants.

Cook... You aren't a cook because you're a mom, you're a cook because you're a woman.  Now, get back in the kitchen. I kid, I kid.  And come on, mom or not you're going to be cooking.  How else are you planning on eating?

Maid... Ditto.

Waitress... That ties in with cooking.  It's not like you're going to have your toddler dishing out their own food when it's hot on the stove.  Don't be dumb.  Cook/waitress SAME STINKING THING in the mom world.

Teacher... I've already addressed this.  PLEASE GOD ORIGINAL WRITER OF THIS POST, TEACH YOUR CHILD NOTHING.  But also, I mean, I've never really gone out of my way to teach the girls anything.  We count the stairs as we walk up them and sing our ABC's but I'm not going out of my way at all to do it.  It's just guided play at this point.  And later... more like tutor.  I'll be paying a teacher to teach them.  Someone educated to do so. 
*This does not apply if you home school, obviously you make lesson plans that are above and beyond normal mom stuff*

Nurse... So you apply band aids and take care of your child when they're sick.  Expected.  And furthermore, go ahead and say you're a nurse because you're a mom to a nursing student.  Let me be there to watch.  Please.

Referee... Eh, let 'em fight to the death.  They'll learn.  Just kidding.  I've actually got nothing on this one, my kids get along pretty well.

Handyman... Only if your husband isn't one.  And I mean that's more of a home owner title.  Anything I've fixed around the house has nothing to do with my parenting. 

Security officer... You lock that door! Like a boss.

Photographer... Because taking pictures of my super adorable children is such hard work!  I can't see how people enjoy this.  Sarcasm. 

Counselor... Okay true story.  Mom's are the best for this.

Chauffeur... I'm not wearing a black coat.  They're tagging along with me! Let's hit the town little kids.

Event Planner... Sure, once a year when birthdays come around.  Otherwise you schedule.  Again, part of the mom handbook.  It's what we do, no special title please.

Hairdresser... Ponytails are pretty hard, and applying bows, and again, totally NOT fun work!  :)

Personal Assistant... Who's your kid?  Donald Trump?!  Yes, you assist them in some of their activities but, that's just being a mom.  No special titles please.

ATM... Uh, not spelled correctly.  It's spelled, D-A-D-D-Y.  Get it right. ;)
I might provide anything they need, their dad and I do, but the day those little kids start treating me like an ATM... Lord help those entitled little brats and shame on me for letting them get that way.  If I provide basic needs, you help out around the house and earn your fun, and if you earn it and are grateful you aren't treating me like an ATM.  Case closed.

Oh yeah, that boogie man BETTER watch out, I'll take him down.  If Daddy's not around, because it's totally a Daddy job.

I work through the day and night...  I don't know about you, but I do sleep, a little.  And take a wine-Kate C. break at nap time. 

I'm on call 24/7 for the rest of my life... I have daughters, when they say, "I do," TAG! I'm out! Welcome to the family son-in-law.  I am now available if needed but I wouldn't go so far as to say on-call 24/7.  That's him now.

RE POST IF YOU'RE PROUD TO SAY YOU'RE JUST A MOM. Period.

I'll Never Fall in Love Again

63 years ago today Tom Hammock borrowed $5 to marry Ezell Franks, and they lived happily ever after.

Happy anniversary to my parents! This is like the only significant date that's turned out to be happier since Pop passsed away.  Care to know why?  He missed her.  Big revelation there.

You know he could tell you down to the minute almost how long they'd been married.  But he was counting all wrong.  I saw that marriage in the post Ezell years and, boy he counted like he stopped being married on October 20, 1998.  He didn't.  He turned trampy neighbors down (Now, I know my dad was a stud, but GROSS, and a quick soapbox... don't you DARE come to his visitation and talk to me like I didn't know what you were really trying to do.  I've been holding that in for 10 months now, man that felt good.), he turned dating services down (they started calling immediately I swear it was weird), he told Momo, "no!" when she suggested that after she pass away he try to take so-and-so out.  She had our best interests in mind, she was just on narcotics.  What the heck Mom!?  Anyway, that man was just as married and devoted to my mom the day he died as the day he married her.  I was telling someone about that this summer and he said, "that's how it's going to be when I get married."  I have 545848742 reasons to believe he was lying, but... I don't.  I don't because people want they had.  I want what they had. 

Now I know that people call it old fashioned and go further to say I was watching an outdated model and didn't know how to be married.  Screw them.  If it worked it was a good model and YES I expect the boy to hang stuff up and fix little things around the house.  I'll help but that's primarly his area.  I didn't ask for much help cooking and cleaning.  And that's true I really didn't, it wasn't until two kids did I start asking for help with the bathroom once in a while because I just didn't get a chance.  And I suck at laundry.  Now that I'm in school I know I don't take on as much responsiblity as I should around here.  I'm lucky to get groceries bought and dinner cooked and the house straightened let alone actually cleaned, so I don't clean floors or do laundry, those are his feminine jobs.  But then again who was pregnant and shoveling our driveway and painting our house? Right I did some things he should've been responsible for back in the day.  See that's important.  You have seperate areas of expertise but you still help the other one.  I saw that living with the Hammocks.  Pop got the snowblower out and Momo and I got our shovels and did the porches and walkways.  We helped him.  Momo and I pretty much rocked the housecleaning while Pop was at work, we had time.  But at the end of every day Momo washed the dishes, I dried them, and Pop put them away.  Seperate, but overlapping roles.  And again SCREW YOU if you think their model of marriage is what f*cked mine. 

Was is perfect?  I slept between them when I was little, guess what wasn't happening.  That probably wasn't healthy.  But Pop sure as heck didn't go anywhere else or make Momo feel like some kind of freak.  She just wasn't an overly affectionate person, or as I'd like to call it, she was classy.  And let's be real, they were old.  So maybe that's the area people are referring to when they like to blame their marriage for the failing of mine.  I can see their point, kind of.  Anyone ever thought maybe Momo and I were just very similar in that whole area?  No I sure did not kiss at my wedding, I'm not about to kiss someone with a whole room of people watching, plus we were in church.  Gross.  Doesn't mean I'm not okay with it in private.  And  note please, two kids in two years?  Umm... I don't know about you but I'd rather do it the old fashioned way instead of invitro.  Way cheaper.  Now, I'm not going to make this blog gross, all I'm saying is there are reasons.  Megan and her freaking huge head did a number on me.  It was almost 2 years until I was back to normal.  In those 2 years Sarah was already normal I guess, and Amber, and whoever else.  Whatever, that was just my little defense.  Because let me tell you, it's incredibly hurtful to hear that people close to you told your husband when news became public he cheated that "what you did wasn't right but we can see why you did it" and "we were just surprised it took you so long." I should punch those fools.  Anyway, that's all I'm saying about that.  Don't need too many agreeing on how awful I am.

The moral of the story here is that I was lucky enough to observe a wonderful marriage.  They went through hell together.  Momo wanted so badly to just spend time with my mom and my grandma when I was a kid.  She loved them.  But they didn't really come around until she got sick and that hurt her.  They both had to bury their son, the child that honestly they had the best relationship with.  Not trying to be mean but it's true.  He came around and loved Momo probably even more than I do.  Losing him was hard on them.  They worked hard for everything they had.  Then finally when Momo retired they were going to get to enjoy life.  But that wasn't the case either.  Here I came.  And five years later, a "disability" and then cancer a year after that, and then Mom passed away in 98, only 8 years after she'd retired.  But I'm so greatful they raised me and took on that burden and I'm so greatful Pop kept raising me after she died.  They really were the best parents anyone could ask for and they had a fantastic marriage.  There was only one time Momo told Pop she'd leave.  Pop told me that was when my mom was living there, I don't know if that was when I was a kid or a baby, but anyway they had clashing personalities we'll call it and Momo finally told Pop it was her or Dawn.  Pop made the right choice, Momo was his number one priority.  When Pop told me this I was a little shocked.  But I'm glad he shared stuff like that with me eventually, it made me feel like less of a freak.  See Momo and I we have quite a few similarities and well that explains why my bio mom and I clash so much.  He even said I was more like Momo and Garry that I was my bio mom and grandma.  I only got 9 years with Momo but I can't help but think he knew what he was talking about.  I just wish I could be as awesome as she was. 

Really though, I've been all over the place with this post.  A little crazy, I'm heavily medicated still so forgive me.  But here's what I think made their marriage work:

They had a godly marriage.  And they laughed.  That seems to be the key.

I never had any of those things, so if you'd like to point to reasons as to why mine didn't work, I tend to take things a little too seriously and it just never really was a godly marriage.  It wasn't the example my parents set.

One more thing, my dad's last smile?  When the nurse told him the morning of March 3 he was going to see his wife later. 

I love him so much. I'm almost 23 years old and I still want to marry my daddy.

Family Tradition

I was sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of pickles sat before me with creme cheese and Alvin and the Chipmunks were singing in the background.  Only this time, I wasn't the child.  I was the mom.  Weird. 

Ask anyone, my mom was awesome at making pickle wraps. Yum, yum, yum.  She used to make them before our big family Thanksgivings and Christmases at the Scottish Rite.  I loved "helping" her as a kid.  I would eat the peices of meat she let me have basically. 

So today, Megan climbs up in the chair next to me.  She took over my job.  I had to be the responsible one, not just the cute little meat eating kid.  What. The. Heck.  She was sweet though.  She had no idea that I was sitting there smiling at her and thinking about my mom and I doing the very same thing 15+ years ago. 

I will never forget the memories I share with my mom.  We would do all this stuff, pickle wraps, molasses cookies, set up, etc. for these family holidays.  And then I got to thinking about my Grandma Franks.

Megan points to the pictures on top of the doll cabinet. "Mommy's a baby!"
"Who else is up there Meg?"
"Megan!.... Sissy!"
"Who else Meg?"
"I don't know"
"Well Meggie, that's Aunt Candy, and Uncle Fred, and that's Grandpa Franks.  And see them?  That's Grandma and Grandpa Franks!"
"OH!"
"Did you know today was Grandma Franks' birthday?"
"yeah."
"Oh you did?  How old would she be?"
"Uh.... giggle I don't know."
"She would've been 103!"
"Oh!"

That's right my grandma would've been 103 if she were still alive.  It's so strange to think about her being that old.  So much time has passed. My children will never know these people that I grew up knowing. 

I started thinking of the time Mom and I were sitting in the backseat of the Jeep at Unlce Joe's house on Mother's Day one year.  It was whenever those little birthstone necklaces with the little kids on them were popular.  I had the smallest hands so I was back there stringing them on for Grandma's mother's day present.  I think I remember being annoyed because I was busy playing.

But, you know what?  I realized my kids have some pretty special things going for them.  I get to wrap Megan up in a blanket Grandma Franks crocheted for me.  Megan has this blanket that her great, great, great grandmother made.  She'll never meet her but a lot of kids don't even have these things that have been saved over the years. 

Of course I can tell her and Bay stories about my family.  Like the time Pop and I were over at Uncle Joe's (I don't care if he doesn't go by that anymore, for years I edured Onery Anne, he can deal with Joe)  But, I love him.  I really do.  Mom had such a good family.  Anyway Pop and I were over there with Grandma Franks and we made lunch, some soup.  We could not find a serving spoon to save our life.  Well, we could it was just one with holes in it.  And we made soup.  And the Annie-Tom kitchen mishaps began that day!  We all got a good laugh later.

And then there are the stories I heard Pop tell.  Now, he wasn't very detailed, but I knew that after him and Mom got married, Grandma wasn't his biggest fan.  And wasn't for a very long time.  But somewhere along the line things were smoothed out.  I don't know really, things like that were kept from me.  It's okay.  What I do know is I couldn't tell there was ever a disagreement between the two.  I remember when Grandma had her stroke on 12-20-1998 Pop and I visited her in the hospital everyday up until the day she passed away.  She would try to speak to him but she wasn't able to be understood.  I can still remember my dad telling her he knew how frustrating it was because she knew she was speaking clearly.  He had a stroke in 1980 so knew exactly was she was going through.  But there was compassion.  I saw that he cared deeply about her regardless of anything that had happened over the years.  I want to be able to do that.  I know people critize my dad, but he was a wonderful man, he really was.

Man, let me tell you.  My Grandma, she was pretty cool.  Pop used to tell me stories about her spitting off the porch back in Arkansas.  And her and I got to share socks!  When I was a kid I got a whole package because they were too big for her I think.  I'd sit between her and Mom or Aunt Betty during Sunday evenening church and color.  I've even got a picture of her and Grandpa Franks in my wallet.  Becuase of all these stories and little things in our house my kids will know who their great great great grandma was and I'm glad. 

Megan will go to sleep and I'll cover her up with that old blanket and just smile.  She's got a hertiage.  It may not be exotic or fancy like her dad's but it's a hertiage, with lots of love, and really good looking women.  No but seriously, my cousins, all gorgeous.

Anywho... happy birthday Grandma Franks, and Merry Christmas to everyone else!

I Want to Hold Your Hand



Pop, Megan and I on her first Easter in 2009.

What a week.... some far too personal to post here. (Which says a lot since I'm fairly upfront about everything, too upfront)  But what I can post about that happened this week... My Dad's 83rd birthday.  Only, he wasn't here to celebrate it.  I won't lie, it was a difficult day.  I could hardly focus on my finals and was actually thankful for the crazy week because it kept me distracted.  But in all of that I forgot what birthdays are for.  They're for honoring the one born, and I believe that goes for after they've passed on as well.  So here goes:

My Dad was the best that anyone could ever ask for.  Care to know how many times he let me down? Twice.  The second was when he was in the hospital this last time.  He said he'd call our tax man for me when he got home.  Now, Pop never promised anything, he only said he'd do it.  That was worth more than a thousand promises.  But, we all know why he didn't call the taxman.  I think I knew he wouldn't be calling him, but I asked anyway because Pop always did what he said he'd do, maybe that'd give him what he needed to get out of that hospital.  It didn't work, but dang I tried.

But the first time he ever let me down...

He had just had some skin cancer removed from his hand the day or two before and still had the stitches from it.  I was probably about 4 or 5 and I was a goof.  Where the stitches were looked like a closed eye so I called it his sleepy eye.  Here we were a couple days later and he said we could walk up to the park and on our way out the door he shut the door on that hand and busted the stitches.  He had to go right to the doctor and we didn't make it to the park.  Obviously I totally understood, but I think he took it harder than I did.  It was probably the first time in his life he didn't follow through.  See, I quickly understood and just went on with life.  But for the rest of his life he'd always say, "That was the only time I didn't do what I said I'd do."  Whenever he said that I knew he would follow through with whatever he'd told me.  He used that story to prove himself and encourage me.  It's true, that was the only time he didn't do what he'd told me he would.

I remember sitting next to him in the ICU and holding that hand.  See I'm a freak and remember people's hand anyway, but especially his.  I saw the scar from his sleepy eye and was reminded of how faithful he was.  No one else has been so faithful to me.  He was a wonderful man and I'm so glad I get to say that he raised me.

Alright, Okay, You Win

A few weeks ago now someone told me something that I just haven't been able to shake. "Where are your kids? What would they think of you being here?"  I immediately got defensive and pulled my well used, "Between bedtime and breakfast is my time..." line.  But I haven't been able to shake it, why?  Because this fool was right.  I hate that.  But... he was right.

I was watching Megan today during church and she was putting on my sunglasses and picking up my keys and goes, "I Mommy!"  She's watching me like a hawk.  She knows every move I make.  Then I looked at her at lunch and was just so humbled that I was given such a perfect little girl to raise.

Megan and Bailey deserve so much more.

So, if I have to make sacrifices, I need to.  That's what parenting is.  If I'm lonely, I'm lonely.  If I'm home on a Saturday night, without any friends, so be it.  Sure I may only be gone after bedtime but that still has an effect on my parenting, it just does.  I need to straighten up and I don't have a single excuse that's good enough.  Yes, it's been a tough year and a half but no one's life is perfect.

I've been here before I literally sacrificed everything for my family and it didn't get me very far.  I was incredibly lonely.  Thankfully I had a few really close friends that came running when I needed them.  And I swore I would never lose so much of myself again because people need people and not just there family.  I had this mentality that I have a family now, no one else matters.  No, they do.  The right people, in the right proportion.  And I have no intention of ditching my friends in order to be a better parent, there has to be a balance, I've seen what an unbalanced life can become.

Being lonely was tough, but when it gets hard I always go back to the old song, "On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand."  Nothing's ever been more true.  I remember listening to this when Pop was in the hospital and just realizing, I have nothing else that I can cling to, nothing.  All other ground really is sinking sand, whatever that is for you.  Whether it's a drug addiction, a relationship, your job, it's all sinking sand. 

There's only one solid rock.  And that solid rock is the only way I'm not going to totally fail my little girls.

She Goes Down

There are a few things I have ALWAYS remembered my dad saying.  Some was absolutely crazy, some was just goofy and some was actually quite deep:

#1. The crazy. "Two things you should never talk about are politics and religion, especially since you're a girl." Ooops.  Don't worry me not listening isn't a post his death thing.  I didn't listen when he was alive either.  And let's not forget... he was wrong.  It's okay Pop, no one is perfect.  I'm only close.
#2. The goofy. "Don't smoke don't chew and don't go with the girls that do." Obviously, I had to switch this to "boys that do." And.. oops again. 
#3. "The young can and the old must." He was talking about death here.  It was his way of warning me that I wasn't garunteed to have him.  But, it's also helped me to not only realize that I'm not immortal but to also cope with losing someone that you just shouldn't because they're far too young.  

Notice how I didn't listen quite a bit?  So I guess Now that I'm the parent I catch myself saying things that fit in these same categories and thank God my girls probably won't listen to me either.

#1. The crazy. "Megan don't say sucks, I'd rather you say f*ck than that." Right, I have no idea what I was thinking here. NO IDEA. However, I really do not want her to say sucks, that's not an okay word to say.  So I end up having the, "Mommy is sorry Megan, those are both grown up words and I don't want you saying either."  Apologizing to a 2 year old is pretty humbling.  And I needed to.  No one call CPS, okay?  I meant well, I just failed, hard.
#2. The goofy. "Bailey, you're pretty like your mommy." "uh-huh!" "Only, you have bigger feet, maybe you'll be taller like your uncle. If you're pretty like your mommy but taller you're pretty much going to be unstoppable. (pause) You'll also be locked in the basement."  This might be goofy, but it's true.  And she will be locked in the basement.  I'm already coming to terms with prison when my girls are of dating age, you know, 40.  That's why I'm studying Pre-Law, I'll need to defend myself in court someday.  It's a reality. 

And here's #3, I want them to listen to me here though... I'll just be toning it down and keeping it PG as they get older and start to understand.  And yes, it fits in the other categories too, due to the fact that I tend to not have a filter anymore...

"Girls, it says a lot about a girl how much time she spends on her knees.  (pause, stop and think) And... what she's doing when she's on them." 

Okay okay, I have no filter.  Fail.  But... hear me out.  Unpack this for a minute.  

This is a true statement.  I was actually talking to them after we had finished praying (see, not a terrible parent, too terrible anyway).  So here you have two ends of the "on your knees" spectrum.  The first is obviously prayer, the time a girl spends praying his important.  And the the other end of the spectrum.  Put two and two together, you're adults figure it out.  Now, I know which end I want my daughters to be on.  Refer to statement #2 and my ultimate destination in prison.  

When Pop was in the hospital I remember kneeling at the end of the bed and praying about everything.  Hard.  I prayed hard.  I actually felt the most at peace and confident afterward.  It was so important that I do that, kneeling before the Lord really ended up giving me the strength I needed.  And in this instance it was absolutely crucial that I fell on my knees, I remember feeling foolish, but I just did it and I needed to.  The Lord strengthened me for what was about to happen.  All I could do was surrender totally and I knew it.  Some will argue, "hey I'm a 21st century girl I'm empowered to do whatever I want." True.  But keep in mind what you're so "free" to do will only result in you becoming a slave to it.  You'll still surrender totally, but what are you surrendering to?  Or who is the better question.  The whole situation has the potential to be totally degrading, and it probably will be. 

In high school, I remember being stopped after a See You At The Pole event by another student who said, "Wow, I didn't realize Annie could pray like that."  People will see in your life and maybe first hand if you are a person of prayer.  There's a woman at my church that I've known for a long, long time.  If you ever need anyone to pray for you, you call her.  She's an amazing woman and I have so much respect for her.  And I think that proves my point right there.  When a girl is on her knees for the right reasons she's respected and regarded well.  Do I really have to explain the other side here?  You can get acclaim on this side too.  You're going to wonder when the last guys co-worker asks you on a date if it's only to see if he's right though.  That's no way to go on a date.  Come on.  That's not acclaim, that's degrading.  Shop talk happens, don't be the subject willingly.  Just don't put yourself there.  You may not have bad things said about you directly but you aren't going to have what this woman at my church has, respect.  Can you really be proud of this?

See unpacked, you can tell I meant well and it's my goal to raise good people.  I hope that they remember this (the PG version) their whole lives though.  I want them to realize how important it is to surrender totally to the Lord.  I want them to have the kind of relationship with God that they know to get on their knees and pray about EVERYTHING.  

Most importantly here, I want to set the example for them because unless I do it myself, I won't have even a shot that they'll listen to what I say.

 

 Can we agree to never tell the kids some of the garbage I say now? Like, until I'm dead? Yeah?

Oh yeah, and I love the Family Circus. And, well, it seemed appropriate for today.

Leave a Tender Moment Alone

I received an e-mail yesterday asking for prayer for a friend's mom who was just admitted to the hospital.  I didn't have to read the whole sentence to know her condition.  I got as far as, "... with  Cong--"  That's all I had to read to know she had Congestive Heart Failure.  

Congestive Heart Failure

That's all I had to read to go right back to reading the paperwork from the nurses in Room 714 after a long morning.  See, I immediately read that e-mail and went back but then I quickly went back to the night before Scott's funeral and actually confronting what had happened with Pop, even with how I felt about seeing people I loved next to a casket.  I would've gladly buried my own dad a thousand times if it meant no one else had to do that.

But, being open and honest about that kind of stuff?  Wow, that was pretty big for me.  I don't really have many tender moments, I'm always exactly what I need to be, strong, even if everyone sees through it. 

What happened this night was, he caught me when I was more vulnerable, after a few drinks, the same day as a visitation.  I was far more willing to discuss than normal unfortunately, or maybe fortunately?  I think it was good for me. 

We were getting ready for bed, setting alarms, and talking about when we had to get up the next morning.  I told him I had to be home by 9 for a funeral.  He knew, my parents were no longer alive, but I hadn't brought it up.  I remember lying there in bed and then he asked me something that I really hadn't be asked before,
"What happened?  How'd your parents pass away?" 
"Well, mom had lung cancer, and-"
"Well, no your dad."
"Congestive Heart Failure," and then I explained the last couple weeks of my dad's life. 

I was completely open and honest about my father's death for the first time.  (including with myself)
And, he didn't say much, just listened?  Which was different, he didn't try to fix anything.  All he did was move his arm around me when I got real quiet.  In that instance, that's all I needed.  For the prior 5 months, that's all I needed.  I didn't need anyone to try to fix it, or make me feel better, all I needed was someone to just put their arm around me.  In that moment, I felt like it was less about Pop and more about me, like someone actually cared about me.  (Or, at least pretended to)  It didn't matter if it was real or not, I just needed someone to act like they were concerned. (I'm certainly not here arguing how "real" that was, I don't care. It helped, real or not.) 

What's crazy is how one question caused me to totally let my guard down.  One stinking question!  Man.

See, I don't think that would've happened with anyone else, because anyone else that had known me for a while would've known already and just not asked.  Everyone knew Pop wasn't in good health anyway.  Or with anyone else I had to have it all together, this person barely knew me it didn't matter if I had it together or not.  Even the same person in a different circumstance wouldn't have got my guard down.  It took basically a stranger to just ask one simple question to help me really come to grips and say everything out loud.   

That was a big step.  I learned it's okay to have a tender moment from time to time and to actually trust someone long enough to be open with them.  That's been a new lesson for me that I probably should have learned a LONG time ago.   Now the situation surrounding how I learned it, eh.  It is what it is.  But I learned something, so it works? 

I don't want to go back to keeping everything hidden and locked up, or even be afraid to trust a friend, because, "what if they hurt me?"  If they're human they will, but that doesn't mean I have to always be on guard.

AND....... because of all of that I was able to just pray for this woman.  I had already dealt with those words, so it didn't catch me totally off guard.


I'm awesome.  Now, please excuse the rambling. =)

Don't Cry Daddy

Disclaimer: This might get personal.

13 years ago today, I went to church for our Tuesday night meeting.  Lisa and her parents took me home because Momo and Pop were both there and weren't able to take me.  Momo wasn't doing well and hadn't been for the last few days.

We went home and I remember everyone packed in that small front bedroom to pray.  Afterward I went to work on my memory verses and I didn't go back until I heard people in there and even though I was 9, I knew what was happening.  I may not have realized it but I knew.  I peeked around the corner, and I'll never forget.  I immediately went back into the dining room to hide and cry, hopefully unnoticed.  I'm not sure how successful I was, that small house was filled with a big family. 

The next thing I remember was sitting on the couch curled up next to my Daddy when the paramedics came in.  They wanted me to leave but Pop told them I could stay.  He always stuck up for me, he was the best.  I'm so much like my mom, that the only thing I remember thinking was how her pajamas had been moved and she wouldn't like being uncovered like that when they brought her through.  Funny, how it honestly didn't matter, but again, I'm that much like my mom. 

Pop and I didn't go to the hospital together.  Aunt Betty and Uncle Marshall had just got back into town from Alabama and they took me.  Momo had asked that they bring her back some water from this spring they'd all been to the year or two before.  I was the one that ended up drinking that water, she never got it.  I'll never forget looking at the clock in their van, it said 9:00. 

We get to the hospital and I got to go back to where my parents were.  I went into that room and saw the monitor hooked up and I remember seeing the line barely wiggle and I had this hope and then I felt Pop's hand and I don't know if it was him or the doctor that must have seen the look on my face, but one of them explained that for a while afterward a person's heart would still beat a bit. 

The next thing I know Pop, Aunt Betty and Uncle Marshall are in the small family room there and I remember running in there and sitting on Pop's lap again, I didn't like being apart from him.  I don't remember why I was running in there crying but years later Pop told me that someone had told me out in the waiting room that I wasn't going to be able to live with him anymore, he never told me who said that.  Which was a good thing for whoever thought that was an appropriate thing to say considering the timing.  I heard a lot of that nonsense over the next year.   

Pop and I made it home and I remember falling asleep in her recliner and waking up and overhearing people in the kitchen talking and I realized it was real.  That had really just happened.  And then... there was ham.  So. Much. Ham.

In the months and years afterward my focus was on holding it together and staying strong for Pop, so he wouldn't worry about me.  He missed her so much.  She was the love of his life.  I always felt like I wasn't enough, and I wasn't, but I tried.  We had our ups and downs learning how to live without Mom.  Pop always said he wished he would've paid more attention to her while she cooked.  I wish he would've!  No joke, our diet for probably the next year was soup, ramen noodles, and grilled cheese sandwiches.  And then there was the time I was supposed to do the laundry....
"Pop, how do I set the washer?"
"I don't know, isn't that just bred into you?"
He was serious.  Yeah.. that happened.  We ended up figuring it out together after fighting for a while.  Ha.  But the point here is that we helped each other through the very first life changing event of my life.  I kept him going and it's become increasingly clear these last almost 8 months that he kept me going as well.

She was the love of our lives. (Which is sort of why "A Little Less Conversation" is only my second favorite Elvis song, second only to Don't Cry Daddy)

So, the plan for the day?  Go buy flowers, school, workshop, hangout with a friend, and most importantly KEEP BUSY.  I'm not sure exactly what to do without Pop here, I don't have to call and try to distract him or encourage him this year.  He missed her more than I ever could.  Losing her was hard, losing him is a thousand times harder.

You've Got a Friend

An offended friend is harder to win back than a fortified city.   Arguments separate friends like a gate locked with bars. (19)

There are "friends" who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother. (24)

Proverbs 18

I'm glad that the Bible includes passages about friendship, it's an important human relationship.  It's difficult to survive without healthy friendships.  

This is Kristen. I would've failed Chemistry,
and died a long time ago if it wasn't for her.
I love her.

Saturday night I remember looking at Katie and just saying, "I feel like I don't have a single real friend."  It was emotions talking because I always have Kristen.  Always.  She's the only constant left in my life to be perfectly honest.  She doesn't care what, "Oh my God I'm going to hell.." story I'm bringing her, she still loves me and doesn't judge.  She's awesome.  I'm not even sure we've ever had a fight.  We're too awesome for that.  But she's not in the Quad Cities anymore.  And I've been kind of distracted and haven't paid as much attention to her life even, as I should have.  So what I told Katie was actually correct.  I feel like I don't have any real friends sometimes.  

Now, recently I've had some close friends that I feel like if I breath wrong I'm offending, that I'm not taking fault for.  One shouldn't be so easily offended to begin with.  And if I had a dollar for every time I was called a bad friend or was "dead to" them and really didn't know what I did, I wouldn't need a job.  I love them though, and consider them to be good friends.  I just don't let it bother me and we get it sorted out pretty quickly.  Everything's fine. 

But, there have been times that I have been the offender.  It typically involves alcohol.  Don't all awesome decisions though.  Or even maybe not offensive, but maybe just not a good enough friend.  Maybe just not as invested in their lives as I should be. 

The point I'm trying to make is that, if I want a decent friend, I need to be one.  It's true I will do absolutely anything for anyone if I'm able and they need me to do it.  That's just who I am.  And thankfully I'm also the type that can see when they're wrong and apologize.  That being said, I still blow it and have a lot of room for improvement in being a good friend, hell a good person!

If I want a real friend, I need to focus on being one and hopefully the favor gets returned, but even if it doesn't I'll still know I tried my best to be a friend that "sticks closer than a brother" and built another person up just to encourage them, not to get anything in return.  I'd imagine that's a good way to have a real friend.

It's Now or Never

Ahem, the BUCKET LIST.

Just the things I want to do before I die.  No big.  I've done some, and there are some others that I might add, but here it is:

• Visit every MLB ballpark
• Learn to drive a stick
• Have a blue eyed baby boy
• Hold my best friend's wedding bouquet while she kisses the love of her life
• See the Braves win at Turner Field
• Bring the best snacks to the soccer game
• Hold public office at the local level
• Pass the Bar 
• See the Cubs win a World Series
• Be housewife, again
• Watch my daughters become college graduates
• Get married at home plate
• Smile on October 20th and mean it
• Hold public office at the state level
• Hold hands on the front porch with my husband when we're old
• Have dinner with a hooker
• Go to China
• Fool around in a moving vehicle
• Buy a house for someone who needs it
• Wear a fancy evening gown somewhere
• Spoil the heck out of Kristen's future children
• Be a MILF
• See the Atlantic Ocean
• Visit Arizona
• Meet my Aunt Vena
• Live in a mortgage free home
• Make out until the stop light turns green
• Get my undergrad
• Teach Megan how to drive
• Live in Washington DC
• Pray with someone as they become a Christian
• Threaten Bailey's first date within an inch of his life
• Get into Law School
• Be drunk at a college football game
• Pay off someone's car for them
• Do my parents proud
• Not cry when I drop Bailey off at her first day of Pre-School until I get to the car
• Grab a baseball player's rear end for no reason
• Watch my daughters serve the Lord
• Dance
• Marry someone my daddy would love
• Tailgate at the University of Tennessee for a football game
• Take a picture with at least 5 Hammocks
• See Bon Jovi live, but not because I just got cheated on and he felt guilty
• See the Rocky Mountains
• Swim in the Pacific Ocean
• Play a whole round of golf
• Raise good people

I've got a lot of living left to do.  I may not do all these things, but it's worth a shot.  Bring it on!

Hip to be Square

I am a perfectionist.  Honestly?  I'm just fine with it.  I managed to hide it well as a housewife and full-time stay at home mom, except I was, and still am, crazy about how the house looks, so maybe not so well hidden, but trust me that perfectionism is nothing compared to when I'm in school.
I'm the girl who agonizes about missing just ONE SINGLE POINT.  But that's fair!  You get every single point EXCEPT one?  Come on!  My only two history papers have been like this and I've missed both of those one points for simple mistakes that I learned my Junior year of high school.  Talk about frustrating.  I have to redeem myself with this third paper due today otherwise I just don't know what I'm going to do.  I have to, I just do. 

I also missed just ONE POINT on my last State and Local Government Exam and that's driving me crazy too!  I was so close to perfection.  So close.  The funny thing is here, is that I took my first exam in my Political Science class and got a very high B, but that didn't drive me nearly as crazy. 

Isn't it funny how the closer we get to getting things just right the more bothered we are by them not being completely right?  I think there might be a life lesson for me in this.  Maybe. 
I strive for perfection but, here's where it is, the Pslamist says it better than I could I suppose:

In your strength I can crush an army;

with my God I can scale any wall.

God’s way is perfect. All the Lord’s promises prove true.
He is a shield for all who look to him for protection.
For who is God except the Lord?
Who but our God is a solid rock?

Psalm 18:29-31

If I can manage to remind myself to focus on the Lord's perfection and less on my own, I might just do alright.  Especially since my own perfection, will never happen.  Even my looks are only close!  I'm 22 with crow's feet for heaven's sake, excuse me smile lines.  That just means I smile and laugh at lot though, true story actually.  And let's still be honest here, I make smile lines look good, my future as a cougar looks promising.  Anyway, back to the serious God stuff.  This passage might just have been written specifically for me for this season in my life.  Yep, I think so.  (Okay okay... in context no not at all, but still, that just shows how well designed the Cannon of Scripture is.  Good job God!)

I'm embracing my perfectionism when it comes to school though.  If I harness it my grades are going to be amazing.  And that my friends, is awesome. 

So now I've pretty much admitted that I'm an incredibly boring, nerdy girl, but that's okay. 
Boring girls aren't supposed to get into trouble right?

Possum Kingdom

When I was younger and Pop and I would go on our drives it was quite likely that we were driving and listening to the Possum.  Actually I remember being really young and Pop going around singing along to "I Don't Need Your Rocking Chair." So, I was around it a lot, in fact Pop used to sing his songs to me.  Yep, good call daddy, George Jones songs are always lyrically appropriate for children. 

 (You'd think I would've titled this one after a George Jones song, but no. I'm too clever for that.)

Anyway, I was driving the other day and the Corvette Song had come on the radio.  It was nice to remember all the fun memories that Pop and I had together. 

One time we were "drag racing" the 04 (yeah. it happened. Pop was a BA) with the bass cranked up in the Jeep.  He was in his 70s. 

Another time I had asked, "Pop what's your favorite bird?"  His response?  "Blue Jays, because they're mean!"  And he was so mean?  No, not at all.  He just pretended to be from time to time. 

We watched Braves games together.  The only sport because one time I made him watch the Big 12 Championship with me and he goes, "Oh they play rough," and made this face.  It was so funny.

Another fun little thing he'd always say, "I don't get mad, I get even."  And by that he meant he'd play a trick on someone and they ended up laughing about it.  I don't think he ever had an enemy, except maybe Grandma Franks.  But she came around.

And then  there were times his sense of humor got me in trouble.  Case in point:  He bought me a Jeep Overland Limited jogging stroller for Megan before she was born.  SERIOUSLY?  She got her first Jeep before she was born, I had to wait 18 years.  I had to compete with my own daughter to be the favorite and well, I lost.  It happens.  Back on point though,  he tells his daughter (my bio-grandmother) that he bought a new Jeep.  Her response was a cold, "oh."  He goes, "Yeah that Liberty will be old by the time she starts driving."  Thanks Pop, can't just say you bought me a stroller.  He just had to drag it out.  But he told me her reaction and we laughed a lot about it.  I can forgive him. 

And then there was just just his laugh.  I loved it.  And his familiar snoring.  It was always comforting to hear him down the hall, or when I was little next to me snoring.  I knew he was there.  And his sneezing!  Oh my goodness, once he started he couldn't stop and he was so loud!  Momo and I always laughed and gave him a hard time about it.  Later when we got the dog, he would start sneezing and the dog ran away.  Pop always knew how to clear a room. 

And then when I was little I'd ask what his favorite color was.  "Ruby," and he'd kind of look over at Momo with his goofy smile.

But my favorite, is how he met my mom. 
He was on a date with her cousin Ruby when Momo walked in with two of her brothers.  I think maybe Louise T and Bill?  And he turns to Ruby and says, "I'm going to take that girl out."  Ruby replied, "You haven't seen her dad." Pop goes, "Well I'm not going to take him out!"  The rest is history.   

And now everytime I hear a George Jones song I think of fun with my Daddy. 

The last picture of us that I didn't have to share with a short person.

2007

Brown Eyed Girl

I haven't mentioned much in this blog about my little Bailey Sue, which is funny because she's perfect and well, I kind of like her, a lot.

"why'd you sell yourself so short?" - a friend in reference to rushing a marriage.

I answered in the same way I always do.  I knew what my dad wanted to hear.  I knew better than to be pregnant and not do anything about it.  And then pointed out that I could've stayed home and had the baby (Megan) but if I choose to do that I wouldn't have a place for us to live right now.  That ended the conversation quickly, it always does.  But there's something else.  I wouldn't have my Bailey.

She wasn't planned.  In fact after quite the delievery with Megan I was thinking I would never be able to have another baby.  Not only that, there's no way I was trying to have another baby when we lived in a small two bedroom duplex.  So, a few months pass after Megan is born and yes, the first time, when the timing said no baby, and with extra percautions to make sure no baby, well... FAIL.

So we bought the house, a bigger Jeep, painted the room, and prepared for Bailey.  I was perfectly happy with how my life was turning out.  I didn't know what was in store just a few short months after my little girl was born. 

I say she was my saving grace, because she was. 

From the first time she grabbed my finger with her little hand I was in fact, wrapped around her finger.

Oddly enough I felt so close to the mom I had lost at nine years old after she was born.  I think it's because she looks so much like me and I suddenly just knew what Momo saw when she looked at me.  I've never felt closer to her than since Bailey was born. 

She looks like a Hammock.  She just does, she's my link to both my parents.   

I bonded with her so quickly and so much more than I had with Megan.  With good reason, she's a Mama's girl, not mention I was Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner for 9 months.

When everything started happening in my marriage the way it did, just a couple months after she was born, I had her.  I still had to take care of myself because this little girl depended soley on me.  I had her to think about in that position and what I would want her to do.  Not only that, I just got to hold her and have two big brown eyes look at me with complete adoration.

When Pop died, and I kissed him for the last time, I held her through that.  Maybe she held me.

I don't think I would have made it through the last year without my Bailey.  She's kept me going and brought complete joy to my life at a time in my life, there really isn't much joy otherwise.  She's just the best.

This picture reminds me of a picture of my mom and I.



Afternoon Delight

Megan is 2.  Sometimes it's terrible, but I refuse to label it as that.  That's not fair.  In reality, in her short life she's learned to adapt to a lot; a move, a baby sister, an "army daddy," who was gone for about 9 months, her "Papa" going to heaven to be with Elmo (funny story), and her parent's changing marriage.  She's a rockstar for actually being an overall good kid!  I've also tried my hardest to make these changes easy on her, or protect her like my parents did for me. So, basically, she gets her awesome from me because I am, in fact, awesome.

 

So, let's review our afternoon, shall we?

Leaving daycare.  She fought me, like she always, does about that dang carseat!  Today was pretty bad though, she got a spanking for it (Bring it on, I'm pro-spanking as long as it's done right) Finally we're in the car and she is NOT happy.  I totally know what to do since we tend to butt heads on this whole carseat matter.  Play her some Billy Squier.  I told you she was a rockstar.  She was still giving me death stares the whole way home.  Such is life, if we would've been a crash, she was safe so I don't care how mad she gets at me.  That's right, I'm not afraid to play the "Mommy" card.  Bring it little kid, I'm bigger and MADE you.


Arrival in our driveway.  I turned down the radio and started talking to her.  I love having conversations with her.  I began to explain (for the 473625765251644278 time) that it's important she is safe and that I love her, etc. etc.  It was quite a sweet conversation that concluded with this little exchange,

"Mommy keys!"
"Yes, those are mine"
"My keys.... [cute little 'I wonder...' eyeroll] inside!"
"Oh you have keys inside?"
"Yeah!"
"Really? What kind of car do you drive?"
[I'm standing there very curious as to where this game of pretend was going. She knows the names of 3 cars, Jeep, Corvette, and Cadillac.  She's Tom Hammock's grandkid.]
"Mommy's Jeep!" Complete with that cute little smile that will get her out of, and into some serious trouble later on.
She was right though, she does!


Reading with Mommy.  First off I know how to play her.  She needed a diaper, trying to get her to go upstairs to do it as soon as we got back was going to get me right back where we started.  So we read, I read, she played, and then ever so sweetly asked for me to read to her again.  The Awakening by Kate Chopin.  Chapter 7 to be exact. Good shit.  More on that later.  We had a perfectly lovely afternoon.  She's such a sweetheart and I just love having conversations with her.  She decided it's time for a diaper (see, I know how this works) and so we walk upstairs hand in hand to change it.  On the last step she steps up and says, "Mommy, I happy." 

Me too, Meggie Lou, me too.

And then I tricked her into a much needed nap.

It's possible she is the best mistake I've made.