Monthly Archives: June 2013

Sometimes Life Comes Full Circle

Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote this post about my faith.

I was struggling.  Truly floundering.  Like I had never done.

Then suddenly, the struggle ended.  About the same time I lost my job, the desire to seek the Lord came back.  Praying seemed worthwhile again, whether or not there were answers, church wasn’t such a hardship.  I was still somewhat uncomfortable in the services, but it was livable.

Unfortunately, I have noticed over the last  month or so, that things have gotten harder.  I am still reading my Bible, thank you YouVersion, and praying some.  But man the services are HARD.  Today I had to walk out during the singing portion.  It just hurt too much.  I literally felt shock waves of pain going through me, radiating along my spine.

I went outside for a minute to get some food to donate to local food banks, then came back in, not sure what to do.  I looked at the books for sale in the church library.  And then sat down in the foyer in time for the sermon to start.

I was okay.  There were parts of the sermon that stung.  Isn’t that the point?  But I could sit there.  I could hear it.  I could receive it without pain and tears.

I don’t understand.  I really don’t.  I know the lat few days have been hard mentally.  I had to call the psych for some advice and renew my usage of Xanax.  That has taken the edge off.

But I didn’t expect today.  I didn’t anticipate walking out of church, needing to escape.  And once again, I don’t know where to go from here.  So, I’ll just keep putting one foot in front of the other until something makes sense again…and hope that’s soon.

Teach Your Children

It is summer time.  Our schedules are much more lax.  And I like it that way.  Who doesn’t?

And the girls have had neighborhood friends over to play.  And I like it that way. Again, who doesn’t?

But a couple things are driving me crazy.

I have one little girl who comes over.  She just shows up, unannounced.  Today, she was here for eight hours.  Family came to check on her three times.  Never once asking if it was time for her to go home.  The third time my wonderful hubby was here.  He had to say three times that we were headed out and it was time to go.  Three times people.  Three.

The other thing that is making me batty?  She has NO manners.  There is never a please or a thank you.  Ever.  Hubby and I both very pointedly add YOU’RE WELCOME.  Sometimes it helps, most of the time it does not.  Today I made all the kids pizza bagel bites.  She brought hers in and said, “I don’t want this.”

Seriously?  Thing is, I can’t blame her.  She is young.  She has to be taught.  Her family needs to step up and teach the child the niceties of life.

Will it keep me from allowing her to come over?  No.  I’ve always dreamed of being the mom with the house the kids like to visit.  And I will do my darndest to pull that off.

But wow, what do I do about becoming the neighborhood daycare?  And how do I do it with grace?



It’s Getting Real Here Folks

I have packed on a lot of pounds.

I could list off so many excuses.  And I will concede to one.  Some of the psychiatric medications I was on caused hunger.  I didn’t believe it was the meds, but I recently went off depakote and was shocked at how much my appetite immediately decreased.  I dropped 3 lbs.

I have a lot more of than that to lose.  Like 15 times that.


I hate how I look.  I hate how I feel in this body.  It preys on my mind.  I feel horrible about myself.

And as I mentioned to a friend and my hubby, the worst part of feeling fat and ugly as a parent is the guilt over how you are teaching your children to eat, so now you feel fat, ugly and guilty.

So far my girls are all very healthy and strong,  but if my eating is making me fat, what will it eventually do to them?  I can’t face doing that to them.

The time to change is now.

I have successfully lost weight on weight watchers twice.  The second time I added a lot of exercise and it was phenomenal.

So I got back on the treadmill yesterday and today.  Now on to the food.  The best part of weight watchers is the fact that fruits and veggies are not restricted and there is a huge proliferation of recipes to be had.

Here we go.

I have started a pinterest board with recipes that look good, I am exercising and using the fooducate application on my phone to try and make good choices.

This is my before…



Please pray, wish good luck to us as we undertake this overhaul.  It will truly be a big change, especially for my picky eaters–Sue and Patrice.  I know they won’t like it, but I have battled my weight since fifth grade and I just can’t set them up to do the same.  I have to be strong and smart for my girls.


(They weren’t that in to getting their picture taken.  Sigh)

Now off to more menu planning and cleaning this house…anybody want to come over and help with that cleaning part so I can continue to obsess over eating choices???  Anyone…at all???

Feeling a Little Crazy

So, as I have talked about ad nauseum, we have a stomach virus that won’t quit. We have been fighting it since, no lie, December.

And, the bugger is BACK!!

We made the five hour trip to my moms’ Friday night. Patrice woke up Saturday tossing her cookies.

Last night we decided to take the girls to see a movie at the drive in. It started at dusk. Which is apparently at 10:30 pm, just after your two year old hoses daddy with vomit.

So what to do? Stay or go?

Hubby obviously wants to go get clean. Five and six year old are of course sobbing because they wanted to see the movie. And the two year old is of course now calmly sitting in your lap.

We stayed. They all fell asleep. And I watched Monster University by myself.

The morning came too early and the puking continued.

She is obviously dehydrating. We considered taking her to the hospital near my moms’ but don’t want her kept overnight far from home.

So, after she kept down enough fluid to have to pee…we have started the trek home.

I hate to see her sick. I can’t believe we’re dealing with stomach virus again. And I’m battling fear that this is more than a stomach virus.

These are the days motherhood is heartbreaking.

A Big Day

I am so excited I could burst.

Caitlyn hit a milestone. A big one. One that I remember fondly.


She got her first library card!!

And checked out her first books!


And mama is so proud.


Boxes in Your Hands


It’s a nice sunny day. I spent some time working on school studies with the girls and then we got invited to the park.  We had a lot of fun.

The olders are now at a friends’ house playing while Patrice and I hang at home.

I heard the door open a few minutes ago and thought they had come home.  But instead, Patrice came running in with a box.  Apparently she is now accepting packages on my behalf.  Turns out there were two boxes.



In it I found items from my grandparents.  My dads’ parents.  My dad died almost 9 years ago, his dad died almost 3 years ago and my grandma passed away this last Christmas.

And here was the last of the things I would receive from them.  There were pictures dating back to when I was in second grade, my moms’ first Bible that she was given in 1971, news clippings about my parents and a myriad of lovely Christmas ornaments.

I am thrilled to have every bit of it.  Can’t wait to show the contents to my hubby, but again, these are the last items I will receive connected to them or my dad.  My grandparents won’t be in the house right around the corner from my dads’ grave.  They’ll be lovingly buried next to him.

And for this I mourn.

Not only am I sad my grandparents are gone, but somehow their deaths make my dad feel even more gone.

He wasn’t at my wedding, but they were.

He didn’t meet Caitlyn, but they did.

He never held Cana, but they did.

He never had pictures of Patrice, but grandma did.

They are gone.  My daddy is gone.  My heart is weighed down.

All A Jumble

The last few weeks have been very full. Much of that is not my story to tell, so there are only the bits and pieces I said on twitter out in cyberspace. My fingers are itching to lay it all out, but for once, I think it is important for my marriage to keep them still.

Rest assured, I still have much to ramble on about.

Caitlyn and Sue finished school on Thursday.

I now have a second grader and first grader. Second grade y’all. That seems so old to me.

And we added glasses, okay technically the week before, but still, a big change.



She loves them and is taking great care of them.

Sue is a first grader now. Wow. I was at a birthday party of her classmates’ today. She seems so little compared to them, but first grade, here she comes!!


Tonight Caitlyn is having another first, a slumber party. I went for the first hour. She joined right in. So I dragged myself away. Will I get boo’d if I admit I’m hoping we’ll get that call to come get her???



Along with summer vacation, Patrice and I got lovely coughs and yuck. We actually went to the doctor for it. I won myself an antibiotic, and an important lesson–next time a doctor offers me a script for cough syrup with codeine, I will take it. No more acting all tough.

Bye for now. Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over here in the corner coughing up a lung.

A Parenting Moment

My father-in-law is very ill, so my husband has been at the hospital with his family most days.  And last night was a really long one.

That went okay.

At dinner my girls were all giggles and fun.  They even had their arms around each other saying, “best friends”


And after Patrice sneaking out of the house and getting halfway to the furthest stop sign on her tricycle, twice, I loaded them up to go to the park.  They wanted to walk; I voted for driving so we could maximize some play time.  The first one had no parking, so we went to the second one (we are very blessed to have several parks very nearby).

Once we got there, I realized two of the girls were in skirts, which yes, allowed one boo boo, the other two managed to come down the slide sideways and knock their noggins.  Sigh.

Caitlyn told me she was going to talk herself to sleep by “counting her bruises.”  I asked her to “Please not say that at school!”  I can just imagine that conversation with social services.  Oh boy.

All was going well.

Even bedtime was going swimmingly.

Then out comes Caitlyn.

“Sue says I am not part of this family because I don’t think thank you is the greatest word.”

“What do you think is the greatest word?,” I ask.



“Because it means great, better than great.  Cool!”

“Well, Caitlyn, I like how you have thought that out.  That is some great thinking.  You totally belong in this family.  You are perfect in this family.  God put you in this family and I love you very much.”  And she climbs in my arms.

Just as we are finishing up, Sue comes in.

“Everybody else belongs in this family except me.”  Sobbed as only a high strung 5 year old can sob it.  And she tries to run.  I, by the way am trapped under the sleeping baby, so have to get Sue to come back without chasing her down.  She comes back fighting like a little wild cat.  “Caitlyn and her friend only do what her friend wants (neighbor girl who is 10 and a great girl).  They never do what I want.  I don’t belong here.”

“Sue, look at me.  Look at mama’s face.  Look right at my face.  You look JUST LIKE MAMA.  We look just alike.  And you belong in this family.  You are perfect in this family.  Each of us belongs in this family.  God put mama and daddy together and he put you guys in our family.  And we love you.”

And she was finally calmed down enough to go to bed.

My wonderful hubby got home about an hour later.  I told him our latest drama and he said “Well honey, I think you handled that perfectly and had just the right words!”

My heart hurts for my Sue, but sings for me.  I don’t always know what to do as a mama.  My tongue is often sharp when it should be soft.  But last night, last night I shall cherish.


PS–I know families are built in many different ways, fostering, adoption and birth.  And I think each is beautiful,  but due to the odd nature of these conversations with Sue, which we’ve had more than once, I would like to clarify, each of my children carry mine and my husband’s DNA.  I am not sure why she is struggling so much with fitting here or not fitting here, but it is what it is, and we have some variation of this conversation almost daily.