Happy Birthday Sweeter 16!

As I stare at the rain following outside,  I am reminded of this day 16 years ago. It was raining on that day as well.....freezing rain with an inch or two of ice.  I was a patient at Sparks Regional Medical Center in Fort Smith, Arkansas suffering from pre-eclampysia (not really "suffering" when you consider at the time of my admission I was the ONLY patient on the maternity wing; for 3 days I was Princess Tamara of the Labor and Delivery Province) .

I had been admitted to the hospital due to high blood pressure among other signs that were evident during my first 'every 2 weeks' appointment. My OB, Dr. McClannahan, informed me that he would leave instructions for me to be discharged on Wednesday. He had won a duck hunting trip to Northeast Louisiana and would be leaving the next morning. (God Thing 1) I begged him not to go but you know hunters.....they never listen to reason. Dr. McClannahan had ordered steroid shots be given to me that would boost the growth of Moriah's lungs. (God Thing 2) He assured me that while more than likely she was going to be born early, it would not be this week. So, I do have a history of using performance enhancing drugs if the question ever arises. I expect you all to hold me accountable. My only concern was in the event she did not come early, would she be born all buffed up?

Bed rest is the name they gave for the treatment I was receiving (God Thing 3), you know the type of rest where you are awakened every 3 hours and prodded and probed with invasive questions like   "Are your kidneys functioning?", "Have you pooped yet?", and "Are you experiencing any sort of discharge?" Discharge??? Do you mean as in 'my OB said that I would be discharged on Wednesday' right before he left to go duck hunting in Louisiana? Nope, sorry! No discharge here of any form, just a princess wanting to go home. Check all of those EMPTY rooms down the hallway.

On the Wednesday evening (when I was supposed to go home) before, the associate of my OB doctor strolled in doing his buddy's rounds. He said, "I know Dr. McClannahan promised you that you could go home today but the weather is supposed to get rough and I'm afraid that if I send you home, being as you live 45 minutes from the hospital, and something happens you might have a little trouble getting back to the hospital." I was not surprised. In fact, I told Dr. Bell that I was sure that McDaddy knew that I would not be going home and he saddled him with giving me the impending bad news. He agreed that was a more than likely scenario of what had transpired. We had both gotten the shaft by a man gone to shoot ducks on a frozen pond. So, another night in the hospital....yea!!!! (God Thing 4)

We woke up that next morning and John received word that a workshop that he was supposed to attend had been cancelled due to road conditions (God Thing 5). I had finished breakfast and it was pretty good....as good as you can get for hospital food. The tastiness of this meal may have been due to the no salt bland food that I had been eating since Monday...well, maybe not eating since I had dropped 5 pounds since I had been in the hospital. Nonetheless, I ate it all. Every single morsel and maybe even the plastic that it was wrapped in disappeared without a trace. Once I completed my meal, John decided to go get something to eat. I requested that he wait until I go to the restroom. Did I need his help? No. For some reason, I just wanted him to wait until I got out (God Thing 6).

I scooted off the bed and started my shuffle to the bathroom. These were my thoughts as I began my trek: Step 1-"That felt odd!", Step 2-"That may be some of that discharge they've been harping about." I reached the bathroom and proceeded to take care of business. I couldn't help but notice that bright red glow that covered the floor in front of me. It was so bright, in fact, that I did not notice the cord that hung right beside me to call the nurse if I needed help.

I cracked the door open a touch and asked John if he would get a nurse. "Do you need some help?" he asks.  Why yes! I believe I do! He catches sight of the Red River and begins to scream "NURSE!! WE NEED A NURSE!!!" He throws open the door and is yelling down the hallway. I remember thinking that it was highly unnecessary for this reaction as my room was right across the hallway from the nurse's station due to the princess factor. Albeit the entire wing was full now because the weather had changed and everybody knows that weather changes and a full moon cause people to freak out and go into labor and stuff.

This sweet nurse walks in and calmly asks "Do you need some help? Oh my. Yes you do." She told me to have a seat. Really? Have a seat? On the toilet? Ok. Didn't seem like a good idea to me but I thought if this baby is about to fall out it would probably be better to fall into the toilet than onto the floor. I'm not sure the amount of counseling it would take for a child to overcome a toilet birth but oh well, we'll see. She leaves the room. I thought she was unusually calm but so was I under the circumstances (God Thing 7). But where did she go?

A moment later, about Nurses 2, 3, 4, and 5 ran into the room. These were not as calm as Nurse 1. It suddenly seemed like this was serious. "What's going on?" one says to us. Well,...there's this blood stuff... gushing from me... like a fire hydrant being flushed out. Panic ensues. If Luke would have been there, this one have been the moment that he said "Ok. Things are about to get real!" A gurney was being sought. Nurse 1 shows back up with a wheel chair. They loaded me in the wheel chair to take me back down the hallway to Labor and Delivery (the whole baby thing didn't transpire all in the same room at that time).

I remember being particularly concerned about the satin gown that John had purchased for me because I was a princess. It was not red and should never be defiled in such a manner. I'm sure that I was sufficiently annoying these not-so calm nurses that acted like this was serious or something. They humored me; to the point that they let me fix my gown where I wouldn't be sitting in a pool of blood. No blood got on the gown by the way. (God Thing 8)  I remember feeling fairly calm although I had no idea what in the world was transpiring. It was a blissful ignorance that blinded me from the chaotic reality that was profound (God Thing 9).

We entered through the doors of the Labor and Delivery. "I'm back!" I shouted to the nurses there that had began the week of my princess spa vaca. They looked at me with a face that loudly shouted, "My Lord! She is delirious!!" Still enjoying the ride down the hallway with my entourage.

They were hooking me up to all kinds of machines and monitors. "We can't find Dr. McClannahan! He's not answering his pager (because there were no cell phones then)." I wonder if he had his pager.....in the duck blind....on the frozen pond.....in Northeast Louisiana. We managed to portray the message that he was out of town and they needed to contact Dr. Bell. Well, what do you know, Dr. Bell answered his pager. Bless it!

Dr. Bell arrives and begins to assess the situation. Wait a minute. Where is my doctor with the small slender hands? He is the one I want right now. Not Dr. Hulk Hands.  Oh my gosh. Oh yeah, he's in a duck blind on a frozen pond in Northeast Louisiana. DOG! No time for you now. King Bell of the Labor and Delivery Province is here and handling the mess you left.

Still hemorrhaging. I'm glad I didn't have the view everyone else had.  Nurse 2, a nurse that seemed to be more mature in age, comes in the room. She seemed to be all up into this organized chaos that was going on as was evident as she walked by John and without skipping a beat pushed him into a chair while saying "You're fixing to pass out and we don't have time to pick you up." (God Thing 10)

Nurse 3 yells out. I cannot get a heartbeat on the baby. Did you seriously need to yell that out? You are so not aiding in my ability to stay calm. As a matter of fact, if I hadn't lost so much blood, I might have the energy to be upset with you right now. At this point, it was serious to me. "Come on Baby Girl! Don't this to me now." The nurses assured me that Moriah was fine because she was kicking and moving around. Apparently, you can't do that if you don't have a heartbeat.

I think we were a little taken back when asked who our pediatrician was. What do you mean? We don't have any kids. Oh wait. That means we need one right now. The pediatrician that we intended on using was on a sabbatical. We were told we had to choose one immediately (and they are not allowed to help). Seriously? Not even in an emergency situation which apparently this has grown to be. I knew 2 pediatricians in Fort Smith from the old days of my unfortunate incarceration with DCFS. (God Thing 11) The first name out of my mouth was Dr. Cheshier.  Dr. Bell informs the nurses that Dr. Cheshier was in the same seminar that he had been in just down the hallway. (God Thing 12) No need for pagers! Just get John to run out in the hallway and yell "PEDIATRICIAN! WE NEED A PEDIATRICIAN!"

My mom's birthday was the next day. I, in my infinite oblivion, wondered if we could shut this process down until midnight. Wouldn't it be so cool for your first grandchild to be born on your birthday? These ideas were thwarted before they were ever verbalized (God Thing 13) when John arises from his state of  'What the Heck?' and asks "What kind of time frame are we looking at, Dr. Bell?" The answer being "within the hour" made me think perhaps an early birthday present for Mom.

John had managed to get in touch with everybody which was not an easy task. Remember: cell phones were rare back in the day. Otherwise, I would have been on the phone during the c-section. Yes, I would've been that lady. However, we were strapped to the confines of land lines. My dad was hearing impaired or chose to not hear the phone when it rang. My mom was at the beauty shop that happened to be right across the street from the band room. John called the band room, it was during high school band hour. (God Thing 14)  Mr. Nichols sent one of the students across the street to tell my mom that they needed to come to the hospital.

An anesthesiologist had been summoned. I don't remember his name but I'll just call him Best Friend EVER. He gave me a cocktail of phenergan (remember the HUGE breakfast I ate? This was to keep me from losing it when they cut me open and I have the inability to just rollover and puke), morphine, and a small dose of Heaven.  I don't know the scientific name but the combination of these drugs caused me to not even feel the 25 gauge 3.5 inch needle that Best Friend Ever inserted in my back. (God Thing 15) Best Friend Ever was left in disbelief when I requested  he let me know when he was getting ready to stick me so that I wouldn't flinch.  I watched as they strapped my arms down while putting IV ports, monitors, and blood pressure cuffs on me and thinking I was being crucified. "Within the Hour" had commenced. Still on the happy bus to Oblivion.

At 10:01AM, Thursday, January 9, 1997, weighing in at 3 pounds 2 ounces and measuring 15 3/4 inches, scoring an APGAR of 8, Moriah Brook Fultz came into this world via a hole in Mommy's tummy. She was little but beautiful. Beautiful in an ET sort of way because, to be honest, she was a little grayish at first. She was breathing 98% oxygen on her own within minutes of being born (unheard of for a preemie). The heart monitor that she was placed on for precautionary measures went off once or twice when her little go go gadget legs would wiggle around and kick the leads off (also, unheard of for a preemie). (God Thing 16)
My 3 days of Princesshood had ended for a new chick was in town. Princess Moriah reigned supreme and has been every day since.

In hindsight, what seemed like organized chaos at the time was not chaotic at all. Sometimes God blesses us with a "hopefully" temporary ignorance of the seriousness of our situation so later we can see the work that   He performed. Everyone and everything was right where they needed to be, when they needed to be, to carry out God's Perfect Plan.  One God Thing right after another. Praise Him for 16 wonderful years of a precious baby girl. It doesn't get any "SWEETER" than that!

You Don't Impress Me Much

I thought I had penned this before but I can't find it so I will recreate it to the best of my recollection.

When my daughter was in first grade, we lived in Southwest Arkansas and it was the year the Arkansas quarter came out.  There was a big dedication service at Crater of Diamonds State Park. We had several family members that came down for  the ceremony and I took Moriah out of school for a little history in the making and  diamond digging fun!

I have this thing about getting my picture made with governors. I have a picture of me with Bill Clinton (several times), Jim Guy Tucker, and Mike Huckabee. While each picture was not that big of a deal to the governor, I have a story that made it special to me. I corrected Bill Clinton for mispronouncing my name once and told him it was OK to wash his hands before he shook mine another time when he sneezed right before my turn to pose with him. Jim Guy Tucker was mauled by reporters in Washington DC immediately following my picture with him to discuss the pardoning of some criminals in Arkansas by the acting governor while Jim Guy was attending Bill Clinton's inauguration.  The  photo op  with Mike Huckabee was fairly uneventful with the exception of John and  I had taken an awesome group of young ladies to the state capitol to page for our local senator and representative. So, I guess I was due for an over the top Gubernatorial Photo!

At the Quarter Dedication, Governor Mike Huckabee was one of  many speakers. Since I had already had my picture made with him,  I really didn't have an interest  in that. But, I thought I might try to force this tradition upon my  6 year old daughter. There were people crowding around him like he was some sort of celebrity and he had an  entourage of security. Oh please!!!!!

I took Moriah up there in the midst of the crowd. I told her that I couldn't get to him with all of the people. I said, "You can get  up there. Just walk in between these guys' legs, tug on his pants leg, and tell him you want your picture made with him and then they will let me through with the camera to get the picture!"  

We had the perfect plan! She weaved her little body through men in black suits and reached the intended destination. Step 1 complete! She tugged on his pant leg. STEP 2!!!!! He looked down at her and with a smile on his face he knelt down and asked her if she had a question for him. YES! SUCCESS!!!! Or, so I thought.....

Much to my horror this is where the plan went awry. Not really but it brought about embarrassment that I was  not prepared for at the moment. My precious baby girl looked him right in the face. Her eyes grew larger than life and shone blue for the whole world to see. She turned to look at me as I stood there holding my camera ready to capture the moment for all posterity. The air grew silent and everyone in this mob of people seemed focused on this little girl who had fought through the forest of persons more than twice her size to get to the governor. With a tone of fear in her little voice she screamed, "I DON'T WANT MY PICTURE MADE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!"  

Silence abounds as I'm fairly certain that I was sweating like a woman of questionable character in church. Laughter broke out...first it was his security, followed by several members of the crowd, and finally Gov. Huckabee. At this point, it was OK for his "yes" man to snicker as well. I managed to get a nervous giggle out and pretty memorable picture that has a story indeed.

God Never Fails

As I sit here in my den  trying to figure out how to start this post, tears come to eyes for I'm at a loss for  words. I know that comes as a shock to most  of you. But, every once in a blue moon, it happens.  Even though it  is on rare occasion, this occurs for different reasons. Perhaps the one today, is  the  overwhelming humility I feel at the wise words of my 7 year old son.

Since kindergarten, Luke has struggled with school. He appears to have vast knowledge but for whatever reason will not perform up to what we believe he  is capable. Kindergarten was frustrating both for his teacher and us. We had a very hard year that year. We were in the middle of  building a new home. While that brought unbelievable stress on our family, it was nothing in comparison to what came next. My dad was unexpectedly taken from us at the  age of 86. By unexpectedly, I mean he was in seemingly good health, came down with bronchitis that turned into pneumonia, and after a difficult 3  1/2 weeks of hospitalization, he went to be with the Lord. This was a great shock to all of us. While conferencing  with the wonderful teacher (Mrs. Fallen) that Luke had been blessed with that year, I assured her that if given a year that we were  not building a new home and suffering the loss of a grandparent, I knew Luke would excel. He came around  and did okay for her at the end of the school year and we felt good about him going on to first grade.

First grade, a new year, a new start. I prayed that Luke's new teacher would be a good one. God answered that  prayer as was revealed to us at the Open House/Meet the Teacher Night when it was announced that Luke had been assigned to Mrs. Goodwin's class. We were still not finished with our house for various reasons but planned on being it by Christmas. Luke's year started off slow and he was not looking forward to moving into the  new house. He was 2 years old when we moved to Perryville and the house we lived in, wretched as it was, was home to him. He had no real memories of home before this. Then, again unexpectedly, John's dad became ill. He was hospitalized several times in that year and left us in March.  Another year, another grandfather. This poor child, I can't even imagine what was going through his little mind. But again, much to the  frustration of everyone involved, Luke struggled with getting his classwork done. His grades were not good. Toward the end of the year, he stepped up and did really well with the help of a very special person (Michelle Stell, you know who you are), to whom we are very thankful. He recently told me "Some of my friends in  my class didn't pass 1st grade. I almost didn't pass 1st grade but I pulled it out in the end." :-)

We moved in our new house in December. He has gotten used to it, seems to be home to him. Both grandmothers seem to be doing fairly well. School starts and we are excited about 2nd grade. A new year and new challenges. This is the first year that students change classrooms for different subjects. Let's see how it goes.

School starts and immediately he begins his yearly struggles. Long gone is the excuse of turmoil and upheaval. Everything appears on the surface  to be a-ok. Yet, the same reports are coming from school. He isn't doing his work at school. He is frustrated and exhibiting disappointment with himself . He shows anxiety about anything to do with schoolwork. As a mother, I am so concerned on so many levels.

Then, one day he tells me, "Mom, I love Sunday School." Though not surprised that he would have this attitude toward Sunday School with his amazing teacher, Mrs. Lucy,  I say "Really? Why do you love  Sunday School so much?" He says so sincerely, "Because nothing we do is graded and God NEVER fails anyone!"

Wow! How true! He is 7.

I'M BUSY!

I've recently been accused of things that I have never before been accused of.....to my face anyway.  And in one particular instance not to my face but to my facebook.  LOL.
I have a job to do and I take it very seriously.  I am a Stay At Home Mom.  My duties primarily consist of paying bills and taking care of my kids (and other duties as the need arises). I am a busy person.
I have the responsibility entrusted on me to pay bills for my family in what may very well be the worst economy since the Great Depression.  I do all of this so my family will have a home to live, water to drink and bathe, electricity to do practically everything, and food to eat.  I do this! I do this with one income brought in by a very hard working husband that goes to work sick or hurting or whatever he needs to do to support his family.  God has blessed me with an amazing man of God who is an awesome husband and father.  He is the primary financial provider and I pay the bills with a tight budget that leaves little or no extra left for extravagance. Together, we try to raise our children with Godly moral values and teach them responsibility.
I have spent most of the Summer with my family.  My kids were not in day care or pawned off on someone else while I went out on adventures with friends, spent money we didn't have or just stayed home by myself and did nothing.
We have attended church as a family, kept an amazing group of preschoolers, done VBS, been to church camp, packed bags for other camps, spent countless hours in prayer for my family as well as others, and been a shoulder to cry on when feelings were hurt by words or actions of others. I apologize if your job or lifestyle does not allow this.
I went to work with my husband.  Contrary to what you may believe, not all teachers are off for 3 months in the summer. It is unfortunate that your husband's job does not welcome volunteer work.
We spent time at an amusement park where I watched my awesome baby daddy teach our son to swim....in a wave pool, experienced that first roller coaster ride with one who after years of waiting was finally tall enough, and encourage them to overcome fears of water slides. We floated in the lazy river and rode (or attempted) the waves on a boogie board.  Again, how sad if your life does not allow this type of family fun to happen. 
I attended a baseball game and radio station with some pretty cool Cub Scouts.  I experienced Jump Zone and Discovery with a group of awesome kids.  We went to the zoo and rode the train and carousel.  We went over the river and/or through the woods to grandmother's house(s). We played with friends, laughed, went for walks, or stayed home and relaxed.  We shopped because even grocery shopping is an adventure even though not as fun as clothes shopping.....for us girls anyway.  We watched Olympics.  We went to eat, ordered completely off the Dollar Menu, and fed a family of four for $13(this is unbelievable fun). I apologize if you don't get to do such things with your hectic schedule.
I have non-stop laundry.  Is it all done and put into it's appropriate place? No. Does it have an appropriate place? Yes.  Does it ever make it there? Rarely. Is my house in order?  No. Let  she who is without dust, cast the first stone.  I have adventures to go on and things to do.  Some day you'll wish that you had.
If you tried to call me at any point during this time and I didn't answer my phone, I apologize for that as well.  I keep the ringer off on my phone most of the time.  How would it make you feel if I was talking to you, my phone rang, and I answered it because you were not important enough to me to carry on a conversation with me?  If it is an emergency, keep calling until I answer. If you wanted to ask me something, leave a message.  If you left a message and I didn't call back, leave another one.  Text me.  If you text me with "let me know if you need anything,"  I will assume that if I don't need anything, I don't need to text you back.  My mother is the only person who has a right to interrupt my conversation with another.  All others can wait. 
If you have a problem with me or my family, feel free to come to me.  Having said that, be prepared to face my thunder cookies.  It is not necessary to lie about my family to make yours look better.  If you choose to do so, please don't take offense when I choose to defend the ones that God has blessed me with.  And, while I welcome any and all sincere heartfelt prayers for my family, don't call me unforgiving when I go into defensive stance against evils brought upon my family by others.  I am a mother and shame on you if you wouldn't do the same.  God gets angry and He hurts when His children hurt.  Am I better than he?  Certainly not.  I'm sorry if you view me as unforgiving.
No, actually I'm not sorry.  I apologize if you have been offended by any of my actions or any of my choices in protecting my family.  I apologize that you do not appreciate the "worn out" feeling that never leaves a true stay at home mom who never rests because there is always one more sock to wash, one more errand to run, or one more prayer to prayed. I do not apologize for any of the time I spent with my family.  I do feel sorry for you if you are not rewarded with a career like mine or you chose not to take advantage of it when you had the chance.  I am not an unemployed housewife. I am mother.  Hear me roar.

Just Rolling With The Flow, Firecracker!

Since we love our new home and we did not want to go to jail for turning it and the entire mountain into a giant charcoal grill, we decided to make a trek to the Rock and enjoy "Pops on the River."  We arrived a few hours before the show to procure an excellent parking spot that would ensure a speedy departure in the impending mass exodus.  We ooh'd, we ahh'd, it was moving.  Indeed, the fireworks were spectacular.  Then, we walked back to our parking spot.

Once we arrived at our vehicle, traffic was already backed up worse than a man with the intestional fortitude to eat an entire five pound block of cheese without an Exlax to be found.  We loaded our gear and prepared to get on the road.  The nice man in the enormous SUV had already gotten into the flow (guess he brought his own laxative).  He was leaving a car length space. Is this not the universal sign for "Come on in, Buddy!"?

That's what we thought too!  But, contraire mon fraire, it is NOT!  John pulled up into the open slot and Enormous SUV Guy lunged forward and showed his displeasure with us.  He said, "You could've asked if I would let you in, you didn't have to just shoot in there like that. You could've asked first."  John, being the natural smart mouth that he is, responded, "Ok....so...Can I get in?" ESUV Guy, "WHAT?" John, "Ok, can I get in?"

He just sits there glaring at us.  I was smiling the whole time because that's how I roll.  Hard to be intimidated in such a ridiculous situation.  Meanwhile, the parking lot is emptying, kids on bikes, and little old ladies on Hoverounds are passing us. Then, we all knew it would happen eventually, the cars behind him started honking.  After all, it was late and everybody wanted out of Downtown Little Rock as quickly as possible.

At that very moment, a moment I believe he meant to be intense, my 7 year old (who we have begun to call The Shizz for obvious reasons) raised up out of his booster seat in the back and exclaims loudly, "DUDE, you're holding up traffic!!!!" A sister was mortified, a dad goes with the flow, and a mom just keeps on smiling...cause that's how we roll!

Not Kid Approved!

Took my kids to McDonald's today on a trip home from an orthodontist appointment for my daughter. We were facing time constraints so it was the drive-thru for us.


I had forgotten about the new unimproved Happy Meal. It struck me as odd when my 6 year old yells at the speaker, "I'll have the large fries with that!" The nice young man handed me our food and as is customary, since they have automatic drink fillers now, I got out to take my son's Sprite in to chase it with Dr. Pepper.....because that's how he rolls. We call it an attempted suicide. You experienced folks like me will understand this. If you don't, google "suicide drink." So, anyhow, I get the prince's attempted suicide and return to the truck. It's back on the road for us! My son was whining about not getting what he ordered. I checked his sack and there were chicken nuggets, apple slices, and a very teeny tiny microscopic fry container with just a few fries. I assured him that is what he ordered because God forbid I order him anything with a hamburger patty on it!



All of a sudden, a package of sliced apples flies from the backseat and hits the windshield. My son says in a very discontent voice, "There is NOTHING happy about this MEAL!"


Sliced apples and dollhouse sized fries???? Really??? Mickey D............what WERE you thinking? Did Michelle Obama tell you that you were making kids fat? First, some McDonald's are not putting toys in their meals and now the smaller servings of fries. In my personal opinion, this will make kids fatter. We'll have to start ordering extra fries so they can get their little baby fixes fulfilled. And, no toy? Why is this? So, the kids will actually have to eat the food now instead of immediately playing with the toy, thus making them fatter. Doesn't seem like a good plan to me. Not KID approved!

I Have Visual!

John was attending a band parent meeting and I had to go pick him up. Once we returned to the house, I went to the door and rang the doorbell but stood where I couldn't be seen through the glass on the door. I motioned for John to get back.

Inside the house, I hear both kids running to the door. I hear the lock on the door start to turn (but not completely unlocked) and could see Moriah looking out the window. Immediately the door was locked back. The glass is beveled in such a manner that she was not able to see me at the angle that I was but I moved over some more just for pure dramatic effect. I reached over and rang the doorbell again. I turned to look at John. He grinned really big and took off running around the house.

I could hear the kids talking. Moriah was telling Luke that they couldn't open the door because there was no one there. Luke of course wanted to open the door. He told her it was me. She kept telling him she couldn't see anyone. My phone rang. I was going to carry it on a little longer and not answer my phone. But, the wee one gets the smart idea to raise the shade on the window that I was standing in front of. Luke said, "I told you it was Mom!" My jig was up! I roared at them trying to scare them a little although the only one I scared was the dog. She growled at me AS she was running away....great guard dog.

I'm not sure what John was doing during this time. He may have already set his scheme into motion. I came in the house and turned the light on behind the house. John started shaking the patio door. Luke raised the blind but he wasn't there. Moriah calmly walked to all the doors in the house and locked them all with a smile on her face. John hung out in the dark for a little longer before finally using his key to come in. He thought I was still outside running around trying to scare the kids. Joke's on him, I was already in the house and on facebook before he got the door unlocked. We are so sadistic.

I explained to Moriah that I preferred that if the doorbell rings when just she and her brother are home to call me first. I praised her for 3 things: 1) not opening the door, 2) calling me, and 3) locking her dad outside after she let me in the house. :D

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Lightnining McQueen Valentine Box

Ok, I am in no way a professional crafter (as is evident by the details of the box)but my son wanted a Lightning McQueen Valentine Box and a LMc Box he shall have.

Here's what we used:
Regular size shoebox (almost think a kids' size shoebox would work better)
Roll of Red Duct Tape
Roll of Silver or Gray Duct Tape
Lightning McQueen decals (I just printed ours from pix of Lightning McQueen online)
White piece of foam
Cube of Crafting or Floral Foam
Black piece of scrapbooking paper
Gray piece of scrapbooking paper
White paint pen
Black Sharpie, Ink Pen, or Marker
Scissors
Glue (we just used a glue stick but a few of the decals began to peel after a few days)



Cut a wedge piece for the cab of the car and a small wedge for the spoiler.

We duct taped the entire box and I cut the end of the box to make the hood to put the valentines in.
I cut a white piece of foam to make the mouth and we drew a line with the black pen to make his smile. Cut a rectangular piece of foam for the windshield.

My favorite part of the entire project is the eyes. If you have a child with beautiful eyes like my boy's eyes, this was a really fun idea that he loved! I took a picture of him where his eyes were exceptional "bright" and zoomed in on the eyes. I cut out the irises and used them for Lightning McQueen's eyes. Beautiful...regardless of what the rest of the car looks like. We really enjoyed doing this project together. I did the cutting with help from a friend, he did the gluing, and we both worked on the duct tape.

Fultz 'N IT!!!: Where's My KEYS!?!?!?!?!

Fultz 'N IT!!!: Where's My KEYS!?!?!?!?!

The Great Rusty Mater Search

A few years back our satellite went on the blink. It was several days before the tech man could come to evaluate our problem. We remained in TV purgatory for what seemed like an eternity. During this intermission in this particular outside world communication, Luke watched Cars: The Movie on the computer over and over and over and over.....and over. He developed quite a liking to the movie and to this day it remains his favorite.

Shortly thereafter, we began to collect the little "hot wheels" type cars of the characters from the movie. This may not have ever happened if in advance I had known that every single car that appears in any part of the movie there is a die cast replica in the collection including 15 red Lightning McQueens. CA CHOW!!!!

Luke turns 4 today. My precious little man, how could this be! He stayed with a friend yesterday while his sister and I drove to Little Rock to buy him some presents. We bought clothes, toys of different kinds, and Cars gift bags but.....no Cars toys! He already has a gazillion of those little boogers laying around the house.

Often I have these super fantastic ideas that float in my head. Normally, I am incapable of getting the idea from my brain to my hands to make the idea a reality. Also, I have a hard time explaining to someone who is an artiste. So, most of my great ideas remain floating around like scissors in space. While driving around in the city, I got a vision of the perfect cake for my son. It needed to be like a field with Lightning McQueen, his buddy Mater, a tractor, and Frank (the combine). Tractor-tipping!!!! That's it! It would be perfect. (If you have never seen the movie, this means nothing to you) I called my friend Kim, to my surprise she said, "I'm seeing it! I know what you're saying!"

"Do wut?" You mean that idea actually made it out of my head. Oh, this has to be a God thing. Someone else saw it too!!! I'm excited!! Kim calls her friend, Paula, who makes the world's greatest cakes. She tweaks the idea a little and Kim calls to tell me that I need to sterilize my cars to use on the cake.

I went digging through the toy boxes. Sidebar: We really need to have a yard sale or start culling the herd. There in the depths I found one of many Lightning McQueens. I managed to locate one with Moriah's help that still had most of the paint on it. Very close by is Frank the Combine and tractor. Great! All I have left is Mater. Yea! I just saw him the day before. I knew right where he was.

Have you ever participated in one of those radio contests where they hide and object and take pictures and you can go by their broadcast stations and look at the pictures and then you go and look for it along with thousands of others? This is how I felt. Mater was nowhere to be found. I visualized him sitting against the wall on the beige carpet right there in plain sight. I searched and searched and searched all by myself.

This is ridiculous. I encouraged the kids to help look. Moriah and I were running around looking frantically to no avail. If you want to know something go to the source, right? "Luke, where is rusty Mater?" This was followed by his classic standard answer of "I don't know....must be somewhere!" If it wasn't so cute, I would be so irritated at this point.

Okay, nothing is getting accomplished and it is 9:30. Vacation Bible School is in the morning at 8:30 and I'm getting tired. So, I resort to idle threats. "NOBODY is going to bed until we find Rusty Mater!" This didn't really seem to light any fires but still, neither of them tried to go to bed. Moriah was tired but Luke was thinking "BONUS! No bed!"

Finally, at 10:30, I caved. I admitted my failure and said, "Moriah get some shoes on...we're going to WAL-MART!" Insane. I am INSANE. (Also, means nothing to you if you haven't seen the movie.) We loaded up and started out on our late night journey. Did I mention that we live 15 miles from the nearest WalMart? :-)

Moriah suggests that we drive to Greenwood to get my niece, Marleigh's Tow Mater. Well, that makes perfect sense. Why didn't I think to spend $30 in gas to drive 90 miles one way to get one for free when I could drive 30 miles round trip, spend $5 in gas, and get the Mater for $3? Bless her heart! I know she is just trying to help.

Have you ever had a random thought that came to you and for no particular reason you felt compelled to share it even if it in no way was related to the topic of conversation? My daughter is a genius at this!!! She gets it from me! We are driving along and she says, "My friend Kelsie had a stomach virus last year and her little brother Mason did too. She says their brother, Chandler didn't because he has a strong stomach but she and Mason do not."............Huh? Luke pipes in, "Alright! Go Mason!"......What? I had no idea what any of that really meant. I broke out in laughter. Luke says, "Oh, sorry Mom!" I said, "I love you guys! You make me laugh."

Then, without notice, Luke's head drops ever so slightly to the side. He's asleep. I told Moriah we should have taken him for a drive sooner. I woke him to get him out of the car. He raises his little head off of my shoulder and says, "Are we leaving Chloe in the 'quoia?" I tried to explain to him that Chloe was at home. Moriah says, "Yeah! She's in BED!!!" Do I sense a little hostility in the ranks? Perhaps some "friendly fire" is next!

We arrive in WalMart. It is now close to 11:00pm. Do you know what kind of people go to WalMart at 11 o'clock at night? Shift workers, associates of the store, crazy people, and mothers in a relentless pursuit of the one thing that will make the perfect cake (or I guess that would fit under crazy people as well).

We go straight to the Toys because we are going to be home in bed by 11:30 (Yeah. Right.). Upon arriving to the Cars section, there it is right in front of me. I can hear the 'Hallelujah Chorus' playing in the background and all of the angels in Heaven are singing it. I picked it up and held it to my face and stroked it ever so gently. It smelled so purty, like the air right after a Spring rain! Awwwwww. I sighed a sigh of relief. Moriah spoke up and affirmed what most people already knew..."Mom, you are CRAZY!" You know, I had an idea that this was true but there is no greater confirmation than that of a 12 year old.

We went to checkout, of course, there were no lines...at 11:00!!!!!! I purchased a Diet Pepsi so I wouldn't fall asleep on the trip home. I noticed on the way up that someone had cut some trees that had fallen in a recent storm. I have to ask myself--why when a tree falls across the road do people cut the tree from white line to white line and leave the rest there for weary travelers to dose off and hit? I didn't want this to happen to me in what was otherwise a perfect evening. So, I drank the Diet Pepsi down pretty fast, some even came out my nose. Yes, it hurt! But, that brings me to you now! It is 12:46am on my baby's 4th birthday, I have to get up for VBS in a few hours, and I am TOTALLY strung out on CAFFEINE!!!! I think I will go bounce off the walls for a while!!!! HEHEHEHEHHE!!!!!

Kelsie and Moriah

Kelsie and Moriah

Run to My Father

There's something about my children that make them want to call us Mother and Father. With Moriah as soon as she turned 4, Mommy and Daddy were no more for Mother and Father had been born. Luke, on the other hand, calls us Momma and Daddy when addressing us. However, if he is speaking about us to anyone, he refers to us as "my mother" or "my father." Actually, it's mutter and fotter; but we won't get technical. This is a disclaimer that is necessary to lead into this story.....

One cold evening in December, the kids and I were traveling back to Perryville trying to make it home for the local Christmas Parade. The tank was on empty and we had not a minute to spare to make it in time. We drove in on fumes and a prayer.

As we topped the hill coming into our quaint little town, I could see that the parade had already started. The police had the road blocked and I could see the lights and hear the sirens of the many firetrucks that were participating. I quickly made a detour and headed down the back streets. I knew that if I drove quickly but carefully we could make it to the Courthouse Square before the parade.

We arrived safely to our destination. I grabbed Luke and all of the blankets (and the keys too, you know I don't always do that). Moriah had already ran ahead of us because it just wouldn't be cool to wait. We found a spot on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse. We cuddled up in the blankets and got settled in to watch the festivities.

There were firetrucks loaded with firemen and families from every community sounding their sirens, flashing their lights, and throwing candy to the children. Policemen with their blue lights on shouting "Merry Christmas" to everyone. Motorcycles and horses adorned in wreaths and lights. It was a truly happy time.

In the distance, I could hear the marching band coming. This is always especially exciting for us. Luke starts jumping up and down screaming, "I hear the band. My father's coming." It was a sweet little voice that had all of the ladies "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing and had me on cheek-pinching alert. As the band got closer and closer, the excitement built. Finally, the point was reached when Luke got a visual on his long awaited quest.

"It's my Father! It's my Father! I see him, he's coming" He throws his blanket off, runs out into the street, and grabs his daddy by the legs. "I love you!" he says to his father.

"I love you too Son!" John says as he bends over, wraps him in his arms, lifts him up, and gives him a kiss. "I'll be back for you in a little bit."

The band was passing by where we were seated and John had to go. Luke seemed content to watch the rest of the parade knowing that he would get to see his daddy again soon.

What an awesome thing that had just happened in front of my very eyes. Eyes that sometimes can't see the obvious. Eyes that sometimes let my thoughts wander to where is God in all of this. And there He is....EVERYWHERE in EVERYTHING! No matter where I am, I can run to Him and be assured that My Father will never be too busy to wrap me in his arms, lift me up,and let me know I am loved. I can continue to enjoy the blessings that He has given me. And, Praise HIM! He WILL be back for me in a little bit. Isn't that a great feeling?

Proverbs 8:17--"I love those who love me,
and those who seek me find me."

Christmas--It's OURS now, so GET OVER IT!!!!

This week I was watching a news show on tv about how many people are in an uproar about the word Christmas. It always irritates me. It seems like there is a different group each year wanting to celebrate their own little 'holiday' in December. Halloween was suddenly not enough! And, whatever you do don't use the word 'Christmas' because it might offend a non-Christian. It's like a bunch of people woke up one day and realized that the word Christmas had Christ's name in it and we can't have that!!!!! I mean, it isn't like we haven't already commercialized it beyond recognition anyway. But, the more I thought about it the angrier I got and I had to take a chill pill and settle down for a moment.

This is what I came to realize. This will come as a shock to my husband who has been telling me this for over 13 years. Winter Solstice was a pagan holiday. I know that much but little more about it since I'm NOT A PAGAN!!!!! Christians decided that "we" needed a holiday to celebrate the birth of our Savior. Which is true and I am WAY cool with that decision. I totally understand that Jesus was more than likely born in the summer even though....is it not hot in the desert most of the time? My argument has always been 'it doesn't really matter when Jesus birthday actually is, George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and Martin Luther King, Jr. were not born on Monday (and yes I actually looked it up) but we are more than happy to take a Monday off each year to celebrate. Not to mention, George and Abe DO NOT share the same birthday!!!! BUT, December 25th is the day set aside to celebrate Jesus' birthday.' I have always thought that EVERYBODY should just accept that and be cool with it.

When the chill pill started taking effect, I began to wonder why we as Christians were just sitting around and letting this happen without really much of a fight. I then had a thought (yes it did hurt because it doesn't happen that often)"Bless their hearts!!" The pagans and all those who are offended by the word Christmas--bless their hearts, their poor misguided little hearts. All they are doing is trying to take back what was originally theirs to begin with. We, after all, had taken it away from them so long ago.

This brought to my mind something that happened a few years back (totally unrelated to Christmas). We were playing in a playoff game in a land far far away. The team's mascot was the Indian. Of course, their call to battle was the 'Tomahawk Chop.' You would expect nothing less of any self respecting Indian team. But, what they hadn't realized until that night was their team/fans were not the only was all charged up by the "Chop." Their band started playing the "Chop" and our band fired it up as well. But, of course, if you're going to do it (especially in Indian territory)...You have to do it right! So each time the Indians would start pounding their war drums, our band would do it too, only with more veracity and ummph! Each time it was louder and louder and louder. Until finally, their band just quit playing it altogether. They tried an elevator music version of Tomahawk Chop over the PA system but we were all thinking who brought that mess out here!!!! Not that it mattered since we now had the band playing, the fans singing, and the football team charging down the field. We couldn't hear anything other than ours! At that moment, one of our fans stood up and yelled, "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT! TAKE THEIR STUFF AND BREAK IT OFF IN 'EM!!!"

So, really the pagan folk are just upset that Christians took Winter Solstice and BROKE IT OFF IN 'EM! Oh yeah! Whoop! Whoop! It's ours now! Get over it!!! We won that football game on that very cold November night. Just like so many years ago, when we took Winter Solstice and made it forevermore our Christmas! Now, it is our job to not let them take it back from us in the last seconds of the 4th quarter!!! Go FIGHT WIN!!!!

Where's My KEYS!?!?!?!?!

Now that deer season is in full swing, I don't get to see John much but I have constant quality time with my children of whom I love and treasure each moment that I have. But, sometimes I feel the need for a little "me" time. I've been feeling a little stressed lately; not really anything that I can put my finger on as a cause but it is there nonetheless.

I awoke Sunday morning feeling particularly good. I got up and assisted the kids in getting dressed for church. One acquired a little more assistance as he usually fights it every step of the way; not that he doesn't like going to church....he just doesn't care for putting clothes on for ANYTHING!!! John got dressed and announced as he was heading out the door that he had to be at church early for choir practice . I said, "Wait! Take the kids with you."

He said, "Are you not going to Sunday School?" I told him that I thought I would just stay home. He inquired as to why I was not going to Sunday School. I told him, "I'm just staying home today." He asked, "Are you coming for church?"

"Nope." I said, "Just consider it my 'deer hunting' day." He kissed me called me a 'sinner' and headed out the door. I went back to bed and just lay there. It was so peaceful. The birds were chirping right outside my window. No noise. No children playing well together only to suddenly turn into a WWF match. Total and complete blissful peace. Ahhhhhhhhhh.

Two hours later, everybody returned. It was a good afternoon. John went hunting...of course. The kids and I had a relatively good afternoon just relaxing. Moriah and I studied her AWANA scriptures so that she could finish her 2nd book. Luke pestered as much as he possibly could just like normal. All was well.

John came home, changed, and headed off for choir practice....again! About 5 o'clock, I got up and started getting things together for evening services which is AWANA. We all were dressed and ready to go.

"Where are my keys?" I couldn't find them anywhere. The only thing that I could think of was that John had carried them off with him. I tried to call him; but like a decent person he didn't have his cell phone turned on in the church. Darn him! The first message I left near as I remember was something like..."I need my keys do you know where they are?" The second, a little more intense. By the third, "KEYS! Need 'em! NOW!" I was steamed!!! I had looked everywhere I could think of that made sense (my first mistake, thinking that anything would make sense).

We couldn't miss AWANA and everybody that we know was at the church. I found myself getting ever close to the edge (tick tick tick tick). I said, "Come on ya'll. We're walking to church." SURPRISE!!!! No complaining (right now). We walked out the front door. The air was crisp and cool but the sun was shining. It was beautiful. We only live like a 1/2 mile from the church. If the neighbors can walk to the smoke shop and get their cigarettes; we can walk to church. It was good for us, er, it was good for ME to work off the irritation and no children were harmed in the process.

We cut through the Sonic parking lot. There were several people enjoying their evening meal. We rounded the corner to the main "drag" through town. I saw a couple walking toward us on the opposite side of the road. I could tell little more about these people from this distance other than there were 2 of them. I turned to make sure my daughter was behind me; she smiled that gentle smile she has and giggled a little. I looked down at the curly headed little boy that had me by the hand. I got this overwhelming feeling of poverty. I almost cried. We have 3 vehicles, a house, warm clothes, and plenty of food; yet we were walking to town. Not walking around the track; not walking at the park; WE were walking to town. We are SO uneleivably blessed beyond words and yet, I felt poor. And, redneck!!! I felt extremely redneck! We are so blessed and yet, uh well, actually we are redneck. I just felt it a little more right then. So, there I am walking down the highway with 2 children in tow. All I needed were a couple of bags, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of my mouth, and a fly on the end of Luke's snot infested nose and an episode of Feed the Children was in the making.

As the approaching couple neared, I realized that it was the retired band director (the one before John) and his wife. I at this point no longer perceived walking as appearing impoverished but rather as a sign of how little the salary of a band director must be in this town. He said, "Are you out getting your exercise?" I responded, "Well actually, I think John made off with our keys and we are walking to church." They acted like they wanted to help in some way. I told them, "We are fine. The walk is doing us good."

We crossed the highway, cut through another parking lot, and what do you know. There is the church just one block away. I said, "See that wasn't that bad." Luke said, "My leds hut." I won't translate because I know that you understood that too.

Thankfully, John was there and he gave us a ride home after AWANA. He did NOT however have any knowledge as to the whereabouts of the keys. We got home and searched for a few hours. I got up the next morning and searched some more but to no avail. Where were they? I knew they hadn't got up and walked off....or at least I didn't think they did.

I asked Luke several times where they were and I got his standard answer. "I don't know. They must be somewhere." That's cute. But, when the taunting and harassment started it was about to get the best of me. It was obvious that he was the culprit. He knew where they were the whole time; I just know that he did. He crawled into the cabinet on the Lazy Susan and opened up the toaster oven and excitedly said, "Mom!!!! (pause) No keys in here!" This was followed by evil laughter. Keep it up Lil' Man, it's gonna be more than your leds hutting.

I decided to take a break and call the dealership to ask about a new key for the Toyota. Oh! Did I mention that the lost keys contained the only key we have to our main vehicle?! I explained my dilemma to the nice parts man. He was very helpful and encouraging. He began to spout out all kinds of information that I did NOT want to hear. I began to feel like I was making a Master Card commercial. "Computer Chip key $85, Computer to replace the old one because it can't be reprogrammed for a new key without the old one $282, Towing charge to get the keyless vehicle 30 miles to the nearest dealer probably around $100...." Ok! Where's the priceless part? That's the part I can afford!!!! I guess that would be where I piped in and told him, "You've been so helpful. Thank you very much. I think I will go look for my keys some more now." He wished me luck with a chuckle and we hung up.

I called John and asked what his plans for the evening were. He said, "I don't know. I thought I might come home and look for some keys. Is that what you had in mind?" We are so on the same page sometimes it's just scary!!!

I thoroughly cleaned several rooms during my search. Still no keys but at least half the house is in order. John arrived home. I assigned Moriah the task of taking care of Luke (which consisted of watching TV with him) because I knew that if she helped us look for keys we would just have to look there again. When I am looking for something, I trust no one until I've seen for myself (actually that applies to other things as well, like, uh, gossip!!!). I asked John to get his flashlight and search in all of the air vents because the covers are often removed and redistributed through the house so I'm sure that there are things lurking in the depths. There, everyone has their purpose set before them.

I began the nastiest part of my day...digging through the trash. Thankfully, it was only one bag. But, when I reached the bottom of the bag and no keys, I had that feeling like the 2nd place finisher on Fear Factor. "You mean, I went through all of THAT and didn't win. ARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!" I returned to the inside of the house and continued my room by room search. I searched the bathrooms all the while praying that the bodacious bundle that I call 'my keys' would have been too large to be flushed. I searched the hallway closets. I searched our bedroom. I found things under the bed that I had forgotten that we owned. I found things under the bed that were no longer identifiable. Until, wouldn't you know it. There in the corner of the room behind the dresser lay....MY KEYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Funny, isn't it...How they are always the last place you look? I realize that even if it was the first place I looked, if I found them, it would STILL be the last place that I looked because I wouldn't need to look anymore. Duh! Technically, that was my only motivation for continuing the search. If I didn't find them, I knew they "must be somewhere!" I'm pretty sure that God was giving me a lesson in patience otherwise the "last place I looked" would NOT have been TWEN-TEE FOUR HOURS LATER!!!!!!

Did I See That Right?

I had an experience the other day that was UNBELIEVABLE. You know those annoying people that no matter what subject you are discussing, it has happened to them or someone they know. I'm in deep fear that I may either be one of those people or I am quickly becoming one. If you've read even just one of my stories you know that I am well on my way to levels of insanity that would test the skills of the most talented psychological examiner. But, THIS (the event of which I speak)was just too much....sad thing...it happens way too often.

Monday, my kids and I set off on a journey over the river and through the woods to Grandma's (and Grandpa's)house A.K.A. Nana and Papa. Moriah had a dentist appointment on Tuesday. We went the night before so that the kids could visit and then we wouldn't have to get up so early in the morning to go to the appointment. But, that is really irrelevant to this story. So......

We were traveling through Danville on Highway 10. For those of you who aren't familiar with the area, Highway 10 while no interstate is the main highway going through the town and is no stranger to speeders, tired or late-to-work shift workers, 18 wheelers, log trucks, and other potentially dangerous traffic.

Normally, if not stopping for gas, we would just bebop on through and not give it a second thought. The kids are in the backseat watching a movie. I'm listening to Tamara's Favorites. We all seem to be content. I see something on the sidewalk that caught my attention. I tapped my brakes but went on because I thought I was seeing things. I looked in my side mirror and saw a couple pulling out of Dollar General parking lot. They stopped and looked and then pulled out behind me. I turned around and went back.

NO ONE WAS STOPPING!!!! What is the deal? Did I see that right or was I dreaming?

Now that I have you all wondering....IT was a baby girl about 15 or 18 months old toddling down this relatively busy highway and NO ADULT anywhere around. When I got back to where the child was, she was standing in front of Dollar General playing in some flower pot dirt. Still, no one around. There was a little girl in the store trying to open the door for the child and I questioned her "Is this your little sister?" The little girl shook her head 'no.' "Is she with you?" I asked to which she also answered by shaking her head 'no.'

By this time, I had the little girl by the hand and she was trying to pull away from me. Bless her little heart, she didn't realize that I had the 'Great Escape Artist' in my SUV. It really wasn't a big challenge to keep hold of this little hand. Which is odd? Since she was BY her-SELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I asked the people in Dollar General to make sure that she did not belong to someone in the store. No one claimed any knowledge of who this child was. I was in an out-of-body experience mode at this point. I couldn't believe this. I told the people there that I noticed a family at the car wash (2 blocks down) when I was turning around. I would take her there.

The little girl was still a little reluctant to go with me. I knelt down, tickled her a little bit, smiled at her, and said, "Where did you come from Baby Girl?" Scary thing. She let me pick her right up at that point.

I left my kids. Yeah! I know. I wasn't thinking straight. Moriah was freaking out a bit like me and Luke was asleep. I told Moriah I'd be right back. I walked down to the laundromat. I learned in that trek that I DO NOT spend enough time on my Wii Fit.

I got there and the lady looked over at me and said something to the man with her. There were several little children running around as they were loading their car. He came over to me, not slowly, but on the other hand, not running to me in a panic and falling down on the ground in sheer terror either. I asked "Is this your child?" He said "Yes." I'm not sure he spoke English. I don't know a lot of Spanish but Dora has helped me some. I looked at him and with a confused tone said, "La Nina?" He said, "Ci." I immediately went back into my comfort zone and said, "This is your daughter?" He said, "Yes." The little girl reached out for him and it appeared that she knew who he was. I then got my old out of shape second wind and let loose with a rant that probably sounded a lot like you would think someone speaking a different language would sound like to you when they are VERY upset!!!

I said to him, "She was walking down the highway BY HER SELF!!!!!" She was in DOLLAR GENERAL parking lot, TWO blocks away, BY HER SELF!!!!" Rinse and repeat. Several times!!!!! He just looked at me very bewildered and said, "Thank you." The little girl gave me a sweet little smile and waved 'bye' to me. I said to her "Bye Bye Baby Girl." The mother continued loading her car and just looked at the little girl and smiled and patted her on the head.

I turned and walked away. As I walked back to Dollar General, TWO blocks away, where I had left my own two children, the very unfit tired old lady in me took over again. I thought to myself, 'Thank you?' Thank you for what? For yelling at me that I let my baby walk away and I was loading my clean clothes in my car and not even noticing that one of my children was walking down a highway by themselves...OR...thank you for bringing her back....or, maybe....thank you for not calling the cops.

A lady leaving Dollar General stopped and asked me if her family was at the laundromat. I said I guess so. They took her. She told me that the cashier in Dollar General said that she thought she had noticed the little girl out playing in the laundromat parking lot with some other children when she came to work just a few minutes before. I told this lady that I know that your kids can get away from you (Lord knows how well I know that) but that it was just really scary to see that.

I stuck my head in Dollar General and told the cashier that she was with the family at the laundromat. She asked if they were looking for her. I said, "NO. They weren't. They were loading their car. I guess they would have noticed at some point that they were missing something."

I got back in with my kids and started down the road. I noticed as we were driving by that the "Parents of the Year" had left said laundromat. I guess so. Hurry, before anyone else comes up carrying one of our kids and we end up in jail.

Am I being too hard on them? I would normally, because of my experience(s) with Luke, say yes. But each (and EVERY)time that my child got out of my sight, I was running around like a madman cut loose from the chain trying to find my baby. And, furthermore, I'm not sure that when Luke was THAT age that I ever let him walk. Some of you, know that to be a fact!

So, anyway, short story long....because that's what I do! I called almost everybody I know freaking out about it. Then, I called the Sheriff's office. I tried to explain to them what had happened and that I was pretty confident because of the way the baby responded to the man that he was indeed her father but I thought they should be aware of the situation in case that anyone else reported it. The lady I was reporting this to asked if I spoke with the family. I said, "I spoke with the father and I wasn't really nice to him but I'm not sure that he spoke English." She asked for my name and thanked me for calling. She probably thought I was some raving lunatic for not reporting it first.

I see now that I should have, especially since I noticed on the trip home that the Fire Station and EMS was right next to Dollar General and it would have been a shorter trek for me. But, I was not exactly thinking really straight at the moment. I drive a lot and the sight of baby toddling down the side of the highway just through me for a loop. I know I did the right things but not in the right order. Someone told me, "next time..." NEXT TIME! Really! I hope there isn't a next time for this!!!!

I'm Important!

WOW! It has been so long since I posted anything on here but here is a very cute Lukeism. Not that he hasn't done 10x this everyday but this one was a little special to me.

Last night, Moriah and I were working on some of her homework for Language. She had to write sentences and identify the common and proper nouns. Since she had missed class that day, we had a mini-refresher course on the subject. I was trying to explain to her that proper nouns were specific names of people, places, or things. I feel no "such as" is necessary; we all know what proper nouns are, right?

Luke chose to be ever-present during our mini-refresher course. This is good. I may not have to have this mini-course again! Yeah, right, whatever!!!

When I explained that people's names were proper nouns I used the example of girl=common noun, Moriah=proper noun. I reminded her that proper nouns needed to be capitalized because they are important.

Luke piped up and said, "Like my name, LUKE FULTZ!"

I said, "You are SO right Luke. Your name is very important."

He looks over at me with the sweetest look on his face and says, "Yeah, my name's important 'cause it's in the bible."

The Voting Age in Perry County

I took the kids with me yesterday to vote in the primary. It was mostly local races and I really didn't know any of the candidates but keeping with the democratic spirit I voted any way. I figure if I let God lead me I won't vote for the wrong person. But yesterday, He provided me with a little extra help.

I pulled into the polling place and rolled down the windows in the SUV so that the kids would not suffocate in the oven. It was 90 degrees outside. I should have taken them in with me but it would be embarrassing to be asked to leave.

I was next in line to vote when I heard screams coming from the distant. I turned to my vehicle only to see Moriah sitting in the "way back" and Luke in his car seat. This can only mean one thing...............she moves faster than sound! I ran to see what was wrong. "I pretend hit him." ??????????????? My response? I said nothing. How do you pretend hit someone and make them wail loud enough for the whole town to hear. People were staring as they filed in robbing me of my "next" status. She stayed in the vehicle and I could hear her crying but not loudly. I felt really bad for just a second and then I realized that she was only "pretend" crying. So, I went on.

I took Luke in with me. I had lost my place in line. ARGGHHHH!!!! All of the ladies working the election were making over Luke's curls. He acted shy but I knew he was soaking all of it in.

As my time approached, I had to let him walk. He was very careful not to throw a fit in front of these nice ladies that had given him their utmost attention. I walked over to my voting machine and begin the process.

I didn't know any of these people but I knew which ones had actually asked me to vote for them. I carefully touched the boxes of the candidates that I believed that I needed to vote for. Luke comes up beside me and with that little pudgy finger reaches up and votes for some lady. I told him no. The election official asked me if I needed to change anything I could do it at the end. I told her that I believed that it was OK.

I figured since I don't know any of them anyway. Luke's guess was as good as mine. And, children seem to have a 6th sense about people. Maybe Luke was using his gift of discernment. I let it be.

In that particular race, the lady that Luke voted for won with 68% of the votes. Way to go Luke!!! Perhaps I should take him with me in November. I am really going to need some extra help on the presidential race.

Wonder what that Farmer Did?

I remember as a kid having the See'n'say that played the farm animal noises. It was as big as a bicycle tire and had a pull-string. It was tons of fun!
I went to buy Luke one and couldn't believe how small it was. It has more animal sounds and plays 2 songs (Old McDonald and Farmer's in the Dell). Not to mention, it has a handle that you pull instead of the string.
For a year or two, it laid in the toy box not being touched. However, it has recently been rediscovered.
Last night as I sat watching TV, Luke walks up to me with the sweetest little smile on his face, flinging curls around everywhere as he danced to the music of his See'N'Say. He sat down beside me and sang "The Farmer's in the jail. The Farmer's in the jail. Hi-Ho the Dairy-O. The Farmer's in the jail."
Wonder what happened there?

Rambling--Another Kid-Raising Philosophy

I was visiting with some old high school chums a while back. We were discussing our kids, life, and how we were definitely not getting any younger. Someone brought up the "G" word. Is anybody from our class a grandparent? I grew up in a small town in Arkansas and we were a pro-lific young class. It was inevitable that at our age someone was going to be a grandparent. We knew of one for sure. We also knew of several that had grandchildren by stepkids that they had helped raise.

I shared with them an email that I received some 5 years ago with pictures attached of our classmates new grandbaby. I sat in front of the computer and cried for 30 minutes because it couldn't be possible that we were old enough for GRANDKIDS!!!!! Then, several days after that mind-boggling revelation I received an email from another classmate informing me that she was expecting her third child. Happy! Happy! Joy! Joy! We are not too old!!!

During our visit, one of our classmates joined in the grandparent conversation. This girl was (in high school) a very quiet girl who never said a whole lot and when she did it wasn't loud or outrageous. She was, back in the day, in a group of girls that got married the week before we graduated from high school. Her husband was in the military, she moved to Greenland right after graduation and started having babies. Now, it's not like she had a gaggle but she had 2 pretty close together.

On this day, she added some ingredients to the conversation that left the rest of us trying to find something to neutralize the topic and get back to the 'good ol' days' talk we were sharing. She started out by saying, "I put my girls on birth control when they became teenagers." Dang! That was bold to come right out and say in public for everybody to hear...don't ya' think?

A few faltered away and began talking to other people. She didn't stop, she was on a roll. I can understand that to an extent. But, also when people are intrigued by what I am saying, if only for a moment, I tend to talk louder. I am the center of attention and that doesn't happen often so I must make the most of it. Such was the case with my friend.

"I told my girls since they were little bitty," she continued, "that I didn't intend on being a grandmother at 35 and I didn't care if I had to chop up birth control pills and put it in their oatmeal and orange juice. I was NOT going to be a grandmother at 35." Again, Dang! Not just 'Dang!', but can you imagine the horror of being told at 5 or 6 that your breakfast had been spiked with some sort of drug. I know it is the most important meal of the day; but, Flintstone chewable birth control seems a bit much.

At this point, she pretty much lost her audience. But, did this cause her rantings to cease? Not at all. In fact, she chose to focus her ramblings loudly to the one person in the group who was cursed with the gift of making great eye contact even though they were somewhere in the tropics in their happy place! That would be me! She kept on going! I couldn't tell you exactly what she was saying because I was on the beach (in my head) basking in the sun.

This had to stop. The Caribbean beat that was soothing me was turning into Mayan war drums and it was busting up my happiness. I said to her, "You know how I took care of that? I insured that I would not be a grandmother at 35 by having my children at the ages of 29 and 37. Kinda hard to be a granny when you don't have kids yet!"

We brought a few people back into the conversation and got off of this topic. It's amazing how 20 something years will change a person. Just a mention of that type of thing in high school would have embarrassed the fire out of this girl. Now, she was embarrassing everyone around her .

Did Sarah have to Deal with People like this?

When I was in school I had a bad case of diarrhea of the mouth. In other words, when I had something to say...I said it. But, it wasn't just me, all of my friends had this problem. I remember in 7th grade; we were assigned the task of writing a paper about our career plans after school. One of my backup plans was to be a radio disc jockey. One of my good friends piped up, "you certainly have a big enough mouth for it." My response was "you must be going to be a belly dancer then." We never had to guess what our friends were thinking, we always knew. Perhaps that is why after 20 plus years we are all still friends.

However, over the years, I have learned to restrain my self somewhat. I have learned to refrain from expressing myself fully and immediately since most people that I come in contact with I haven't known all of my life. But, sometimes I have to just let it go. I take it for as long as I can, red-faced and about to bust, until no amount of imodium could hold back the explosion. This baby is going to blow.

My mother didn't want to start her family until after she graduated from college; she did so at the age of 35. She gave birth to 3 beautiful children; the last one (moi) born 2 weeks before she turned 43. While my mother did an awesome job with my brother and I (our sister, her first born, passed away at 6 weeks old), this is not a path that I would have chosen for myself. But, God had other plans for me. And, his plan is always PERFECT! I had my first child at age 29 and my second at THIRTY-SEVEN!!!!!!!!!!! I repeat! I would not have chosen this plan for myself; but, I have come to trust that He knew what he was doing.

Having said that. What is with people who think there "God-given" plan is more perfect than yours??????

Not too long ago, I was sitting around with a few friends. Each of us were at different points in our lives. One was in her twenties and expecting her second child; another was 35--her youngest was entering 5th grade and the oldest a senior in high school, while her husband was 20 years her elder; and me. We were discussing our children and where we would be in 10 years.

My 35 year old friend was sure that her life was set up perfectly. God has blessed her richly; but she was certain that I was being scourged because I am 40 with a toddler. She said, "In 7 years, my baby will graduate and be out of the house." ***My mother would have, of course, intervened at this point because my brother and I neither one were out of her house by the age of 18.*** I bit my tongue and said nothing. She went on, "I AM going to be FREE from kids at the age of 42 and I am going to GO OUT AND HAVE SOME FUN. While you, at age 42, will have a 4 year old, barely out of diapers and you will be tied down with kids until you are 55." Now, this is true. But, she was saying it like it was a bad thing. You know, like her perfect plan was better than mine. She went on and on and on and on and on; laughing all the way at the demise that I was facing while she will be out enjoying life with her friends.

I had turned the other cheek and when it got slapped, I was out of cheeks. There was nothing left but for Ol' Faithful to erupt. I took a deep breath and thought carefully to make sure that I didn't leave anything out of MY assessment of her life much like she had done me. She gave me the respect of expressing her true feelings and she deserved the same.

My oral presentation was something like a political campaign speech and went like this--

"When I graduated from high school, I went to college. While in college, I went out with my friends on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights and had SOME FUN. When I graduated from college, I got a job. On Friday and Saturday nights, I went out with my friends; still enjoying life. I got married when I was 27. When you were the age that I was then you were at home with THREE kids; the youngest was 2 and the oldest was 9! Some of us chose to 'enjoy life' as you call it when we were young. I enjoyed life when I was a kid instead of raising babies when I was a teenager. Good luck, going out partying with your friends when your 40 something and too old to kick up the proverbial heels and enjoy life. While it is true that I will be at home with a 4 year old at the age of 42, he WILL....hopefully be out of diapers at that time. You on the other hand will have all of your kids out of the house and just in time for that 'old man' of yours to be back in diapers. And, let's not forget that by that time, your kids will have probably shot out a couple of grandkids and you will of course be left with the responsibility of caring for them while your daughters go out and 'have some fun.' While when I am 42, my oldest child will be at the perfect age to babysit her 4 year old brother while my husband and I go out for an occasional life enjoying experience."

That was all. I was done. In the words of Forrest Gump, 'That's all I got t' say 'bout that.'

She took a step back looked at me, cocked her head to the side and with a big ol' grin on her face said, "It's gonna be like that is it."

I said, "YEP! I guess it is!" We had a good laugh and we are still friends. She is still blessed with her perfect plan and I am still blessed with mine. I just wonder though...When Sarah gave birth to Isaac at such a perfect age, did she go through the same thing? I guess I'll ask her that when I am in that "Old Ladies with Babies" Club-Heaven Chapter.