Maturity

My task for the day: rummage around in the storage space in the basement and try to find the box of size 2/3 girl clothing. Then bring that box upstairs and sort and wash the clothes in the box. While the clothes are washing, purge all things too small from Lillian's closet. Once the previously boxed clothes are clean, hang them in Lillian's closet.

Doesn't sound too bad, huh? Believe it or not, it's an all day process.

My Lillian has grown recently, and her little clothes are too short. Bless her heart. She looks like a little street urchin.

I always hate it when my kids outgrow their clothing. It means that (1) they're getting older (AND BIGGER!) and (2) I have to say goodbye to their clothes that I've grown to love. Weird. I know.

When Camryn was around 2-ish, I started buying all of her clothes at Gymboree. We had gotten a little comfortable financially, so I felt like I could start paying premium prices for my daughter's clothes. Plus, everything in Gymboree was so darned cute!

I admit, though, that one of my secret reasons for buying pricey clothing for my daughter was because it made me feel important. She looked great, all dressed up in her fancy duds with matching hats, hairbows, socks, purses, etc. My daughter's wardrobe made me think people considered us rich enough to afford such things. It made me feel superior.

What an idiot I was. People don't care what my kids wear.

Well, people care, but usually they're the people you don't want to be friends with anyhow.

I've grown up a LOT since then. We now have our financial house in order (thanks to Dave Ramsey). We're more financially comfortable than we ever have been, but you wouldn't know it to look at us. We don't wear labels anymore. I only look at the price tag, not the designer tag. I'm really super proud of that achievement.

I'm not saying that such clothes are evil. I'm just saying I could care less about what the kids' tags say. All I care is that their clothes are clean and that they match. If they looked like someone cared enough to make them look presentable, then I've done my job.

But back to Lillian's closet.

Today, while pulling those clothes out of the storage box, I was reminded of that time when I bought way too many clothes for my daughter. The outfits are adorable, and I can't wait to see Lillian wearing them (and thank goodness they'll see more wear!), but all of those clothes make me sad.....Sad that I was ever so wrapped up in what others think of me. What a dork.

Live and learn. Live and learn.

Blog Challenge: Slide Show

Here's your challenge: choose a group of photos and make a slide show! Choose key photos from a single event, or showcase a collage of photos from all over the place. It doesn't matter! But choose a grouping of photos and tie them together somehow with a story or an essay or a letter.

TO make your slideshow, go to www.slide.com and set up an account.

These pictures were taken at Callaway Gardens in Pine Mountain, Georgia. My husband and I took our then 2 year-old daughter, Camryn, on a weekend vacation. That was in the spring of 2000.

It was still a bit chilly, but the sun made it warm enough during the day. We had such a good time. The flowers were in bloom everywhere. We swam in the heated pool. We rented bicycles and rode them to the butterfly conservatory. Camryn loved the butterflies the most; she even let them land on her arm, nose, leg... wherever they wanted. It was a great vacation.

That trip to Callaway Gardens was our last family trip as a family of three. Not long after we got home, I discovered I was pregnant with our second child, Aiden.

It's funny how you forget what it's like to have just one child once you have two (or more). I remember wanting more children so badly, but on this side of things I wish I had enjoyed Camryn by herself a little while longer. Not that I don't love and adore Aiden, Quinn and Lillian, but it was so nice to be a mom of one.

I know the kids will grow up so quickly, and I am trying to cherish every moment I have with all of them. I love spending one on one time with each child. I really treasure those times, whether we're going to a movie or to dinner or to Target or just hanging out in my bed, talking or giggling.

Those times are the most precious, the most intimate. Secrets are shared when I'm alone with my children. There is something about laying face to face with someone on a pillow that makes you want to spill your guts. I am honored that they consider me worthy of hearing their most private thoughts. I hope they always hold me in such high esteem.

That little 2 year-old girl I took to Callaway Gardens almost seven years ago will be nine soon. She's changing daily. She's growing... physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I'm equally awed by her poise and her stubbornness. I can feel our relationship changing, and there are days I want to spirit her away to the fields of flowers to try to recapture that innocence she once had.

I'm afraid to let Camryn grow up, but I'm excited anticipating what her future holds. These next few years are going to be trying on both of us as she starts to try to figure out things for herself, establishes her identity separate from me and her dad. I pray fervently that she will always make her parents a part of what's going on in her life, that she will always feel comfortable being honest with us without fear of punishment or judgment.

I hope she will trust us.

I trust her.

Legos, Cigarettes and TruGreen ChemLawn

I have to start today's blog with a STOOPIT sighting.

On the way home today I saw a TruGreen ChemLawn truck stopped by the side of the road. From a distance, I noticed a plume of smoke coming from the cab of the truck. I was momentarily alarmed, because a truck full of lawn-beautifying chemicals is not something you want to have catch on fire.

Alas, as I got closer to the truck, I noticed it was just the driver smoking a cigarette.

Genius. Pure genius.

(Here's yer sign.)

I can't be much smarter, though.

On December 31st I purchased something for my son. It was called "Lego Racers: Nitro Intimidator". I bought it as a gift for his 6th birthday, which was yesterday.

(Between you and me, here's a helpful hint: When the word "intimidate" is used in any form on a toy that requires the assembly of a bajillion and one pieces, avoid purchasing it. Don't ask why. Just learn from the mistakes of your internet friend.)

So, Aiden and I sat down yesterday with these:





I was personally thinking, "How in the HECK is this supposed to look like a truck?"

My husband worked on it some last night. He loves Legos, too.

When Aiden got home from school today, he couldn't wait to get back to building. He's the part finder, and I'm the part putter-togetherer. We had a BLAST. It was definitely a memory making experience. I had the most fun, and I spent a ton of time doing something Aiden likes to do. He's my quiet boy that likes to keep to himself, so this time together was a treat.

This is our finished product:



The box says ages 9 to 14, but I think those numbers actually represent the number of ibuprofen a grown adult woman has to take in the course of putting the thing together.

Either way, it's done. And in the eyes of my 6 year-old, I am COOL.

I love it.

Saying Goodbye

My precious 8 year-old daughter is going through a rough time right now.

When school started back on January 2, my daughter's best friend Emily was not in class. Her mom had pulled her and her brother back out of school to resume homeschooling. Camryn was devastated.

Camryn's class is a combined group of 3rd and 4th graders. She and Emily were the only 3rd grade girls. Emily's brother, Caleb, was also in the class since he is a 4th grader. Their departure left a big hole in the already small class, but it also made a dent in my daughter's heart.

The 4th grade girls are a little catty and cliquish. I'm sure it's hormonal, but still... Camryn says she doesn't get along well with them. I think it's because Camryn is used to being the boss (being the oldest child at home) and doesn't know how to interact with older girls. Either way, Emily's absence left Camryn without a close female friend.

So, Camryn strengthened her friendship with a 3rd grade boy named Jacob. The friendship quickly became a crush, and Jacob and Camryn soon started their own club with just themselves as members. It was a true budding romance. Any mention of Jacob's name brought a quick "HUSH UP!" from Camryn.

Ah, young love.

Now Jacob is moving. He and his family are heading back to Fort Worth, Texas. That's where they came from; Jacob's dad, Dustin, accepted a position as the Furman University chaplain, and that brought them here to Greenville.

Dustin is now also the reason that Jacob is leaving. He had a bicycle accident in October. He fell off of his bike while riding around the neighborhood with his kids, and he hit his head on a manhole cover. The damage was severe since Dustin wasn't wearing a helmet. He was in a coma for awhile, but now his condition is being called a "vegetative state". Not a "permanent vegetative state", but still... it's not good.

So, Jacob's mom has made the heart wrenching decision to move herself, her husband and their three children back to Texas. I can understand her desire to be near family, but they will be sorely missed.

It's a hard thing. Camryn is as in "love" as her little 8 year-old heart can be. I feel very sad for her. First her best friend left, and now her little crush. She's not having a very good 2007 so far.

Camryn and I got busy and made up a little scrapbook for Jacob. I went to school today and took pictures of her classmates and let them sign the book for Jacob. When the pictures are developed, we'll add those to the book and present the surprise to Jacob at his going away party on Thursday.

Friday is Jacob's official last day at school. I expect there to be tears when Camryn gets home. The Rx for that will be lots of popcorn and snuggling in my bed, but I know it won't take the sting of loss out of Camryn's heart.

What's worse is that I know this won't be the first time my baby's heart will be broken by a boy. I just didn't think this would start so soon.

I'm not ready.

Wow.. a week!

I haven't blogged in a week. I have all sorts of good ideas for blogs (usually while I'm driving and trying to block the children's noise...), but I rarely sit down and expound on those ideas in my blog. I need to buy a mini-recorder and record my thoughts. I'm sure my new cell phone has a message record feature, but darned if I know how to use it. I bet my 5 year-old knows how.

I did remember one thing I wrote down from my observations last week.

I drive on a long stretch of rural two lane highway on my way to my 8 year-old's school. I think there are people living along highway 101 that still don't know that electricity exists, much less care about Paula Abdul and her drunken talk show appearances or who's babysitting Sean Preston and Jayden James while their "mommy" whores it up or Lindsay's latest rehab stint (remember when she was just the cute kid from "The Parent Trap"? Lindsay, what happened, sweetheart?)

Anyhow, it's a fairly rural area. There are cows! And horses! And goats! Oh, my! Most of the houses along the highway sit a fair distance from the road, so if a person wants to fetch the mail, that person has to walk a long ways to the road or figure out an ingenious way to pick up what the postman brings.

I saw such an ingenious (inbred?) person last week. This smart fella rode his John Deere lawnmower to the mailbox. While he was retrieving his "Juggs" magazine and "Corn Grower's Monthly" newsletter from the box, his son was dropped off by the school bus. The boy hopped on the back of the trusty John Deere and both riders headed back to the homestead.

We need geniuses like that man in Washington.

Oh, wait. We already have geniuses like him in Washington!

Blog Challenge: Life Songs

There are some songs that take you back to specific events, places and times. Choose one song (or a few!) that do that for you, and tell us about it.

This is gonna be tough, because I live my life to music. I love music. The beats, the words, the melodies, the bass, the drums... I love all kinds of music. I dare say that there isn't a song out there that doesn't evoke some sort of feeling or memory in me.

I have thought on this topic, and I really had a hard time even coming up with ONE song. There are so many songs that I love, that it's hard to choose which ones affect me the most. I decided just to sit down and start writing, so this is just brain flow from here on out.

(It's really hard to think about music with kids' cartoons on the television in the background... maybe I should go get my iPod...)

Okay. The first song that comes to mind is "Jack and Diane" by John Cougar Mellencamp. This song is my all time favorite 80s ballad. The kids know that when those first few lines hit the airwaves, I will reach for the volume button and crank it up as loud as they can stand it. Usually I hit the bass button, too, for that little interlude that comes near the last third of the song....

I adore this song. I've blogged about it before ("Hold on to 16/as long as you can/changes come around real soon/make us women and men"). I remember sitting in Biology II in high school, hearing the gang of jocks sing this song to one of the girls that they considered.....well.... loose? They particularly loved the line that goes "dribble off those Bobbie Brooks slacks and let me do what I please...." Those guys tortured that girl unmercifully with that song, but she loved the attention. It doesn't change how I feel about the song, but I always see those guys in my head when that song plays.

I own all of the "Scholastic Rock" CDs because they remind me of watching Saturday morning cartoons as a kid. Laying (lying?) on the couch in my PJs, watching TV until noon, eating cereal that was full of sugar... It all reminds me of innocence. I loved being a kid.

Let's see.... "Wasted Rock Ranger" by Great White... not the best song in history, but it makes me think of flying down Highway 31 with my windows down after dropping off a friend after school. I felt so rebellious yelling the curse words at the top of my lungs. I was a weiner, though. I always turned down the music if I had to stop at a light, because I didn't want any of my parents' friends tattling about my loud, offensive music. Small towns suck.

Then there's Elvis' "Moody Blue" and Liza's "Liza with a Z" and Barry Manilow's "Even Now" and the soundtrack to the movie "Annie". Those are the only albums we had on 8-track, so that's what we played in the Chevrolet Caprice Classic van on long trips. Gosh, those are good memories. Melted crayons and comfy pallets made of handmade quilts in the back of the station wagon. I had a great childhood.

(Re-reading that I realized that it sounds as if we lived in our car.... Trust me. We had a house. We just traveled a lot, and the back of the wagon was my favorite spot. I would've HATED car seats!)

Cyndi Lauper's "She's So Unusual" was the first album I ever owned. It was actually on cassette, but I played the heck out of it. I wonder if I could download that to my iPod...

My wedding songs are great for memories, too. Steven Curtis Chapman's "I Will Be Here" was one of those songs. I chose that one because of what it says, but also because I first heard it sung a capella by my friend Charlotte during a "Breakaway" weekend as a high school senior. The power went out, and we were all gathered in the den of the house that belonged to the weekend's host family. The weekend's leader was playing his guitar and taking requests. Charlotte, who has an amazing soprano voice, piped up and said she'd like to sing a song she was practicing for a wedding. So, in the candlelight, she started singing, "Tomorrow morning if you wake up and the sun does not appear....I will be here..." I loved it. I knew I'd use it at my wedding one day, and I did, though Charlotte didn't sing it. She sang "Bonded Together" by Twila Paris, and one of my bridesmaids sang "I Will Be Here". Yet another person sang "Somewhere in the World" by Wayne Watson. I loved my wedding song choices.

Man, there are just so many more songs that having meaning for me. I couldn't list them all. Music is such a HUGE part of my life. What would I do without it?

Lawrence Welk and Andy Griffith

There are two television shows that bring back distinct memories for me. One is on TV right now; my husband and my 2 year-old are cuddling together on the couch and watching "Lawrence Welk" on PBS. That show takes me back. It came on Saturday nights (as it does now, I guess... duh...) My sister and I were allowed to watch precious little when we were kids, and most of it came on Saturday nights. We watched Lawrence and his gang of beautiful, graceful dancers and handsomely coiffed men. I loved ole Larry and his orchestra and their bubbles. He was *the man*. (Would you think less of me if I admit I still occasionally watch Lawrence Welk? I mean, after the blog about liking Liza and being a Fanilow, would it just be *too much* to know I like Lawrence Welk, too?)

"The Andy Griffith Show" is the other show that brings back memories. When I was growing up, Andy and Opie and Floyd and Aunt Bea and Barney Fife always showed up on our television around the time my mom was preparing dinner. When I hear those first few whistled notes, it conjures up thoughts of pork chops browning on the stove. It's not long 'til I'm slobbering like Pavlov's dog. Boy, my mom can cook some good grub. Thanks, Andy, for reminding me of that!

Speaking of TV... My husband gravitates towards anything on PBS, Discovery Channel or HGTV. He loves anything that comes on "Nova" (He's probably a card-carrying member of the Stephen Hawking fan club, too....) In fact, he has now gotten our 5 (almost 6!) year-old son hooked on "Nova". I balanced that out by getting him hooked on "Dirty Jobs" (though, I doubt that Aiden watches "Dirty Jobs" because he thinks Mike Rowe is H-O-T like I do!) Ahem... I would love to be Mike Rowe's dirty job for a few hours....

Oh, how cute! Lillian is clapping along to the goodnight song. Looks like I've created another Lawrence Welk fan!

Blog Challenge: 5 Things You Didn't Know...

Tell us 5 things about you that we don't know. Go!

This was hard. I'm pretty open about most things, so there isn't much that I haven't shared (that I want people to know...) I know at least one person might know these things about me already.


(1) I love all things "Gone With the Wind".

I can't help it. That movie just does something for me. I love being Southern, and I guess that might have something to do with my fascination with this film. Another confession: I cry every time I see Rhett leave Scarlett at the end of the movie. I so want him to realize that she finally knows she can't have Ashley, and that she wants Rhett. Too late. Sigh. My perfect afternoon would be chilly and overcast and dark. I'd have the blinds drawn, and I'd be alone (no kids or husband). I'd curl up on the couch and put the movie in the DVD player and spend a good, solid 4 hours watching "Gone With the Wind".

(2) I met my husband on AOL back in 1994 before the Internet was a big deal.

I was reluctant to tell people that's how we met. It seemed geeky. I just said we met through a mutual friend, that friend being AOL. Now it seems so silly to be embarrassed about that.


(3) Life is a Cabaret, old chum, so come to the Cabaret!

Okay, I like Liza Minnelli. When I was a kid, we had an 8-track player in our Caprice Classic station wagon. We had about 5 albums on 8-track, and "Liza with a Z" was one of them. Liza hasn't made great life choices in the past few years, but I still think she's a great singer. She's on my iPod with Journey and Abba and ZZTop and Barry (yep, I'm a "Fanilow").

(4) I've been a nail biter all of my life. Since November, though, I've been letting my nails grow out. I haven't bitten them in almost 3 months. It wasn't a conscious decision. It just happened. I had my first professional manicure on December 23. It was glorious.

(5) I love potted meat.

My maternal grandmother used to make me potted meat sandwiches on Wonder Bread. The sandwich consisted of mayo, potted meat and her homemade sweet pickles. I still make them for myself, using sweet pickle relish instead of homemade pickles (but what I wouldn't give for one of her homemade pickles...) I'm now old enough to know that potted meat is beef tripe (um.... cow tongue), but it makes no difference. I have 4 cans of potted meat in my pantry right now. In fact, I think that's what I'll have for breakfast...

Blog Challenge: Top Ten

My MIL moved out of my house on December 14 after 63 days of living with us.

My younger son finally potty trained and is out of diapers. Only one more child to go!

Going to the Dixie Chicks concert in Atlanta on December 2. It was my older daughter's first concert. Say what you will about their political views, but the Chicks rock!

Seeing my older daughter sing 2 solos in church. She's amazing!

Attending a ScrapShare retreat in Helen, Georgia in October.

Moving into our new house in April (and finally selling our old one in August!)

Finding a medication to treat my depression and finally feeling like my old self again.

Scrapping 1,009 completed pages in 2006 (I only did 489 last year!)

Going to Disney World for my 10th wedding anniversary in January. We stayed at the Grand Floridian (in a honeymoon suite 2 doors down from the one where we spent our honeymoon). Eating at Victoria & Albert's was *the* highlight of the trip. It was the best meal (with the best company) that I've ever experienced. Next time I want to sit in the kitchen at the chef's table!

Attending the ScrapShare Texas retreat in November and making a whole bunch of new (if not completely strange and wonderfully funny) friends.

Groggy Blog

Word of Warning:

If you're going to drink a Mimosa at midnight and then stay up to, oh, 1:30 am watching "Ace of Cakes" on Food Network, be prepared for the inevitable.

Like, say, your 4 year-old son bringing you his **previously assembled** Lego Tie Fighter in a gazillion pieces at 8 am the next day. And he wants YOU to put it back together. NOW!

(PANTS? Where are my pajama pants? And what is that stuck to my cheek? Oh. The medicine I dropped last night... THERE it is!)

Thank goodness for Little Debbie honey buns.

Feed 'em, clean 'em, go back to bed.

Darned mimosas.