Snooowwww

Its a white Christmas in Oklahoma! Dillon came to the back door yesterday, covered, head to toe. His sister was laughing hysterically. It seems Dillon misjudged a pretty deep snowdrift and attempted to sled down it. He sank. I'm not sure what it took for him to get out, but he had snow in places that, well, snow shouldn't be. His sister is still laughing.

Merry Christmas

and a Happy Ho Ho.

Dear Aunt Bean, yes your 11 yr old niece is now as tall as you.

Thankful

I was awake at midnight last night with this post running through my head, so here goes...

I can't get the memories of Childrens Hospital out of my head. Maybe because Masen has been sick lately, maybe because it is Christmas, I don't know. If I close my eyes I have very vivid images of her room on the 8th floor, last room on the southeast side, next to the playroom, tiny, one little sleeping chair. Across from us was a baby, just a few months old, who came in with a brain injury and a horrible bruise across the left side of her head and ear. A child at her babysitters had beat her with one of those wooden hammers that come with peg sets, allegedly.

Just a few doors down from us was another baby girl. I have no idea her age, but she was able to fit into an infant carseat. I know this because that is where she stayed most of the day. She had no visitors, no family to hold her or love her, so the nurses placed her in a car seat and moved her crib in front of the door so they could see her from their station. When they had a break, they'd take turns rocking her, feeding her, and just loving her. I don't know what her story was, it was apparent she was not a "normal" healthy child. She didn't cry, or fuss or interact like most infants do. She had no family to take her home.

And I can see the little girl, about 8 years old whose brother had spent most of his life in the hospital. She herself was a healthy child, but had spent so much time at Children's that every nurse, every aide and assistant knew her name. She knew what time crafts were done in the play room and when the therapy dogs came, she knew all their names and what tricks they could do.

I see the grandmother pushing her grandson in his stroller, nobody knew how long he would live. I see the teenager watching the therapy dogs with his head down, the IV pole attached to his wheelchair and a cap on his bald head. I see big strong men brought to their knees watching their babies struggle to breath.

I see the nurses. I wonder if they know their impact on these families. I know the ones that had to put up with cranky Mom, ME, were fantastic. I was not exactly charming by the time we hit OKC. They treated my daughter with love and jokes and tenderness. They are amazing and all I know for certain is that God gave them something special when He made their hearts. To do and see what they do, day in and day out, and still have the capacity to smile and have hope is beyond words and must be of God.

So, today, the eve of Christmas Eve, I pray for them, and the families there. I promised I'd never close my eyes at night without asking God to fill those halls with His mercy and comfort. And I'll keep that promise along with my gratitude that our story had a happy ending. Today if you have a healthy child who has a messy room, and talks back sometimes, just give thanks to God that your worries only include how long to ground them.

He suffers from ManBrain

Last night: Dillon is doing whatever it is he does, Masen is in the shower and Chris is sprawled out across our bed flipping channels on the t.v. talking to me while I iron his work clothes for the week. The phone rings. Nobody moves. (ring again) Finally Chris rolls over and says, "You want me to get that?" (ya think?) But I was nice, I answered, "Please." (ring) Instead of just getting up and answering the phone, (ring) he replies, "Well, who is it?"

That big bandage across his forehead, is NOT I repeat NOT caused by me chunking the can of spray starch at him. Nope, not at all.

She's just soooo helpful

Dillon has decided that every tree he sees is a challenge. Unfortunately, he is much better at climbing up into the trees than he is at climbing down. He tends to get stuck. His solution is to hang in the tree and yell MAMAAAAAAAA until I come help him down. This afternoon all four of us were outside when we heard MAMAAAAAAA. Dillon was stuck in the big pine tree behind our house. His big sister let out a deep sigh, much like she was asked to donate both big toes to research, and said, "I'll go shove him out."

Isn't she kind to want to "help" her brother that way?! Maybe sadistic is a better word.

Senor Smoothie Buns

Dillon comes through the house the other day, rubs his butt and proclaims himself...SENOR
SMOOTHIE BUNS.

(did i spell that right??)

A New Routine

Well, it's done. I am no longer working. I am beginning my time as a SAHM. I did it for awhile when Sis was a baby, but this is different. And, well, I have to tell you that I absolutely L O V E every second of it. So many people told me how much I'd hate it, so many people thought it meant something was wrong. But the truth is, so many things are right. Chris and I decided to do this for our family and for the kiddos. I've already been on a school field trip, the Halloween parade, and more ball games than I can count. The house is clean (well, clean-er anyway), the laundry is done, dinner is home cooked more than rushed, and I can't wait for the holidays and summer break. We are focusing on our family. What can be more right?

Boys

While Dad and Dillon were staking out their "deer stand" the other day, they came across one of the many natural gas wells that have popped up around here. They checked out the pump house and Dillon asked what it was for. Dad told him it was what put out the natural gas. Dillon replied, "Oh yeah, give my daddy beans and he'll kick this things butt."

No comment.

I don't know where her attitude comes from.....

Decals my daughter wanted at the fair:

1. BITE ME CITY GIRL

2. Don't touch me - -it pisses me off. (ok, I like this one)

3. Barrel Racer

4. I'd rather be at the stall than at the mall.

5. Three barrels, Two hearts, One dream

6. Beat Texas and the steer they rode in on.

We aren't entirely certain she is just 11 years old. What we are sure of, she is one neat kid.

His New Nickname is Plus Five

My husband, my wonderful, sweet husband. He’s crazy you know. If you want proof, just watch him at one of our kid’s sporting events. During baseball, he found himself crawling across the ground screaming RUN-RUN when Dillon hit a home run, at playdays he does the left-foot-right-foot-left-foot weave hop when Sis is running poles. I’ve actually had other children’s parents tell me that he is more fun to watch than the games. He’s passionate about his kids.

HOWEVER.

This took place Saturday night: He and Sis had gone to a rodeo. He roped his calf and then got onto the business of getting her ready for her barrel run. He always walks into the alley way and stands at the edge of the arena where he can help her into/out of the arena if needed. This is where he stands and does the requisite crazed barrel-racer parent KICK KICK SIT DOWN PULL KICK KICK scream until the run is over. (If any of you said parents are out there, he used to make fun of you until he had a daughter who wanted to barrel race and now he is undeniably one of you) According to her dad, Sis was making a fantastic run until she clipped the third barrel with her knee. The barrel balanced, teetering on its edge for a second or so before falling over causing an audible ohhhhhh from the audience. What the audience didn’t see, or we HOPE they didn’t, was her Dad leaning with the barrel, using his body to will it to stand up, leaning, praying the force of his hope and will would upright it. Then it fell. And so did he. My husband, my very masculine, macho, muscular, rub a little dirt on it you aren’t hurt, husband found himself on his hands and knees in arena dirt, and according to him, not even realizing he had fallen until he was elbow deep.

This man loves his children and this is only one of the reasons I love this man.

Oh and if any of you were there Saturday night and just happen to have this on video, I’ve got some $$ with your name on it, because that is just stinkin’ FUNNY and I promise to use the video to black mail him for the rest of his life. You know, because I love him so much.

Eat my dust and head for 3rd.

Hmmm

Doesn't it kind of look like Chris is saying STOP. Don't pull that! Probably was considering that Dillon is grinning.

Still pressing his luck

Last saturday Masen had her first OYRA rodeo. She was nervous and didn't have a good pole run. (Barrels looked great) Afterward we stopped and ate at one of my husband's favorite restaurants and Sis was in a less than great mood. Finally I'd had enough and pointed out to her that the rest of us had done nothing but support her and she could stop biting our heads off. Her brother took this opportunity to chime in: "Yeah, Miss Moodswing!!"

Again, we'll miss him.

My first baby.

She's growing up. Eleven years old and beautiful. She'll never know how proud I am of her, even though I try to tell her. She is her own unique person and at eleven knows more about who she is than I did at thirty. I thank God daily for allowing me to borrow her. Little Miss Mess, your Mom loves you.

We're going to miss him....

Last night my son walks through the dining room and for no reason other than to tick her off, says: Sissy's butt...its the BIG Island.

...And the HalleMOOyah Chorus.

My husband is weaning calves. Again. In the lot right behind my back door. Because I don’t have enough insanity in my life.

Wrecked Bikes...

My son has a dirt bike. I’ve posted pictures of him riding it on here several times. He’s had it for over a year and half, and to be honest, we were thinking it was time for a bigger one. Then we noticed the huge dent in the horse barn. THE barn. The barn with the cement floor and high dollar stalls. The barn that sold us our house. (long story, but trust me, without the barn, we would not have bought the house) So, Chris was inspecting this mysterious dent. It wasn’t the size of a dent that a horse would cause by kicking, and it was on the outside of the barn. It was too low to be caused by any farm equipment we have. But you know what - it was the exact size and height of the front tire of Dillon’s dirt bike. His explanation - I just forgot to stop.

Forgot. He. Forgot. To. Stop.

He forgot to stop as he approached a large steel/metal building traveling fast enough to leave a huge dent on a bike he has been riding for over a year. Dude, it’s a freaking BARN. Its not like he misjudged a storage building or clipped a tree, he hit the BARN. But, hey there mom, don’t freak out, I just FORGOT to stop. Has to be the male hormones coming out in him.

Snake Strikes...

We stopped at Mammy’s a few days ago to drop something off, or maybe pick something up, who knows. I sent Dillon to the front door and noticed him jumping backward, grinning like a crazy person, and yelling MOMMMMMM. Irritated, I shut down the engine of the truck and walked up there. Dill-man was all, that SNAKE tried to bite me. (he had my attention now) Sure enough, this tiny little snake was curled up at Mammy’s front door. And let me tell you, this snake was pissed. For such a small little thing, it had the attitude of a pit viper in an anaconda’s body. Of course, that all ended when Mammy chopped it’s little head off. Whatever you do...don’t mess with Mammy’s babies.

Siblings

Yesterday Dillon could NOT stop himself from pestering his sister. He literally could not control it. Finally she snapped. This is how my afternoon sounded:

GET HER OFF GET HER OFF SHE HAS MY HAIR SHE WEIGHS AS MUCH AS A HORSE HELP I CAN'T BREATHE GET HER OFF This was interspersed with SAY YOU'RE SORRY - NO - SAY YOU'RE SORRY - NO - SAY YOU'RE SORRY - NO - SAY....you get the idea.

Maybe I'll take up drinking.

Sleep deprived

My husband can function on very little sleep. He rarely goes to bed before 2:00 a.m. and is up and moving bright and early. Sometimes it would bother me that I just always seemed to be so tired when he is always moving UNTIL I realized why I was so tired....

A few nights ago:

10:30-ish p.m. - I go to bed.

Midnight - 1:00 a.m. - CF decides to watch t.v., make tea, and fix himself a snack. Please note this means he cracked and empties all the ice trays and open and slammed the microwave door.

Sometime around 2:00 a.m. - CF comes to bed. Again, please note, we do NOT have one of those mattresses like you see on t.v. where they put a glass of wine on one end and do jumping jacks on the other leaving the wine unspilled.

Between 3:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. - Dillon wakes up and makes his way across the house to our bed. Thus begins the wiggle-squirm-kick-roll-wiggle segment of our story. His movements wake CF who then begins HIS version of scratch-jerk-snort-cough-snore.

4:30 a.m. - I am awakened by Sis digging in the refrigerator. So, I get up to check on her, give her an allergy pill because she said sneezing woke her up, send her to bed and crawl back into mine only to hear SSSNNNRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH (pause) SSSNNNRRRGGGHHHHHHHH. OH MY STINKING HECK...the 8 year old is now snoring! Follow this with more wiggle-squirm-kick-roll-scratch-jerk...you get the picture.

At 5:00 a.m. - I proclaim LOUDLY and out of complete exasperation and irritation OK YOU CAN HAVE IT. I GIVE UP! With that I stomp to the living room, grab a blanket, arrange the pillows just the way I like them for a good snooze and close my eyes. And...I kid you not...then I hear...

...my husband, in the kitchen, digging through the utensil drawer looking for a spoon so he can eat the apple sauce he just spent 5 minutes trying to fight out of the cardboard container.

The next sound I hear is the alarm clock telling me it is time to get ready for work.

The dark circles under my eyes...yeah, I earn those babies.

Ugh

Whoever said every dark cloud has a silver lining never lived with depression.

Motivation

I took both kids to the dentist last Tuesday. Well, Macy has two permanent molars coming in over her baby molars, only they are coming in sideways, crooked, and any way but straight. So, Dr. McIntosh tells me, in front of Ms. Panic Attack When It Comes to Anything Medical, that those teeth HAVE to come out and soon (only one of them is loose). So, we schedule a day for her to return to have them pulled. All this time, Masen is absorbing this info and storing it somewhere in her mind. We get home and she is really upset and has a “Foris Fit”, which basically means she got pissed off and took a large stick and beat the heck out of a tree, followed by a crying spell. Chris gets home and we talk to her and she seems to be calmer about the situation. I mean after all, having a tooth pulled is NOTHING compared to her week in Children’s. So, off she goes. Later we are sitting at the dining table and she comes out of the bathroom holding a tooth in one hand and tissue on her bleeding gums in another. She looks at her Daddy and me and says “Half way there”.

OH MY WORD. The child is pulling her teeth out of her head. She told Chris, “They come out a lot easier if you twist them.” She just kept saying SHE IS NOT GETTING MY TEETH. We told her BUT SHE WILL GIVE THEM BACK.

Twenty four hours later…she pulled the other one.

Heaven help me.

CF Logic

He says the word "FLORIDA" must be Seminole indian for "show 'em to me".

Another one

Sitting at the airport in St. Louis waiting on our plane, I noticed a boy staring at Macy. I leaned over and mentioned it to her. After we boarded the plane (a couple of hours later) she turns to me and says:

Hmph. That was the best hour and a half of his life.

OH MY GOSH! I think we might be in trouble here.

Apples and Trees

According to my husband this happened the other night:

Dillon was getting ready for a shower, butt naked he passes a mirror. As he passes, he stops, gives himself the once over, and says..."Hi Handsome" and continues on.

I don't think we are having any self-esteem issues with this one!

Inherited

My daughter is wearing a shirt that says:

If you think I'm crazy...you should meet my Mother.

I wonder where she gets that "charming" sense of humor??!!

Catching

Look at him in all his "gear"!

Open letter to my oldest sister, Bean

Dear Bean:

Plastic plants will not grow, even if you DO water them for over a year.

Love,
Me.

Lessons

Papa showing him "the ropes".

I didn't want to do it....

but I knew it was the best thing. Every alert cell in my body was yelling, just don't, nobody is going to MAKE you. The excuses popped up...but I missed work on Tuesday, I can't take off again; it's raining (a weak excuse, but an excuse); it would be so easy to just not go....but I did. I did because a beautiful woman I know, inside and out, was diagnosed with breast cancer not long ago. She has a family who needs her and friends who love her. Because of her, my decision to keep my appointment was so much easier.

Today I had a mammogram.

Denial and Procrastination Go Hand in Hand

Masen has a birthday this week. She wants a big party. She wants school friends, dance friends, church friends, family, pets, and the homeless guy at the stop sign near Wal-Mart to attend.

I think I shall respond to all this by sticking my fingers in my ears and singing LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA repeatedly. Oh, wait...that's how I got into the situation of NOT having a single plan made.

Crap.

To be or not to be? Should I or Shouldn't I?

I've come to realize in all my years of wisdom (!) that if you are asking the question "Should I? or Shouldn't I?" the answer is 99% of the time...NO YOU SHOULD NOT. But since I am such a rebel (HA) I'm gonna share a bit of personal info with you...

I was watching Oprah, or Dr. Phil, or the TODAY show, or something along those lines, when a couple came on talking about how they had made a vow to have sex for a certain number of days in a row (I forgot the number) as a way to improve the intimacy, both physical and emotional, in their marriage. For some reason known only to the extra voices in my head, I proposed this idea to my husband. No I do not know WHY or WHAT brought this on, obviously I've reached a new level of insanity. Now, I'll spare you (and ME) the details, but let me just say....Holy Horndog Housework Batman, I haven't had to do the dishes or cook in almost a week!! Intimacy schmintimacy - homegirl on TV wasn't trying to "grow emotionally" closer to her husband, she just wanted the trash taken out.

I did sort of warn you...

Seriously?

My sister will be speaking at the Tookparfka Indian Mission Baptist Church this weekend. The really bad thing is...all I can think about is who in Hee Haw hell named a town Tookparfka?

It's A Hard Knock Life

Mammy sewed this costume. The pantaloons are missing because they were still at Mammy's house! HA. She thought I lost them and went home and found them at her place! Again...HA!.

Is it my turn?

Dillon played catcher last night at baseball practice. They are hitting off a pitching machine throwing at 40 mph. (Isn't that a little fast to be shooting at my son???!!??) So this morning at breakfast Chris made the comment:

CF: Yep, I am Dad of the Year. I let my son suit up and have baseballs thrown at him.

Masen: OH CAN I THROW BASEBALLS AT HIM???

At breakfast.

After he had spent 1/2 hour making car-cat-ninja-boat-motorcycle-fart-machine gun noises:

Masen: Dillon...STOP IT.
Dillon: Weeeeeeell...someone's cranky.

F.Y.I.

Nobody told me what red velvet cake does to your, umm, digestive system!!!

(a little "heads up" on that one would have been nice, ya'll)


UPDATE: It has been brought to my attention that I've forgotten to mention that Aunt Bean is the bestest, most wonderful, fabulous, sweetest, nicest Aunt on earth.

Guess who reminded me to say it.

OH MY MEATBALLS...IT IS GENETIC!

If you haven't read my post of January 30, 2009, go read it then come back here.

Now...

My brother in law, Bart calls my oldest sister, Jeannie over the weekend. They have a conversation and J was trying to answer his question when Sherrie, the middle sister and Bart's wife beeped in. J told Bart she had another call and picked up. The rest went like this:

J: Hello.
S: Hey, what are you doing?
J: Talking to Bart.
S: (silence)
J: Hello? Bart? You know, your husband.
S: Yeah, I know him, I'm sitting next to him in the car!

HA HA HA HA. See I AM the sane one!

Because

I am not one of those women that other women want to just hang out with. I rarely get a phone call inviting me on a shopping trip, or a girl's night. And to be honest, I can get pretty wrapped up in self pity about it when I let myself. Oh, it's not as if I don't have friends, I'm just not one of those girl-friendy type women, I guess. But this post is dedicated to the women I do spend time with, a group that outside of the dance studio, our paths might never have crossed. So here goes...in no particular order:

First H and T who worked until 5pm, gathered up their daughters, drove two hours to visit us in the hospital, drove home at midnight, and got up to go to work the next morning. You did this for my daughter and my family. You will never know how big the place you hold in my heart is. You will never know what this meant to me.

Then there is C. A mom who not only homeschools her kids, runs her household, manages to get to all extra activities, including playdays til 2:00 a.m., raises her kids in God's love, but also, I have honestly never heard her say the word NO when asked to volunteer, assist or just plain help out.

I have to mention the Mom who has become a ministry in herself after losing a child. Her faith and strength are encouragement to all of us. And S who has six kids and is taking chemo, yet found the energy and the time to sit with us during and after a friends funeral to cry and laugh along with us. And the B's, both the Pretty B and the Smart B, or the Pretty AND Smart B, depending on who you ask! B who will drive 20 miles out of her way to take the girls to a movie to just let them get out for awhile, or to simply check on her friend.

And the other B. The friend who literally moved in with G when G needed her most. She literally put her life on hold and did what she was needed to do, even to the point where she was so exhausted that when she finally went home, two days later, she pulled up in her drive, removed her bags, walked up the sidewalk, onto the porch and had her keys out to unlock her door, all before she realized...she was at her neighbors house.

See...I can get all wrapped up in my own self doubts, but these are the people God has put into my life. These are the people, whose friendship I might sometimes take for granted, but I know that if I needed them, they'd be there. Why? Because that is just who they are.

Okie Invasion

To Ingrid, Mom Marion, and Donald

Barbados is not that big. It is an island. 166 square miles. In other words...there aren't that many places to hide.

I'm just sayin'.

Life Experience

Last night while Dillon was supposed to be trying to fall asleep:

D: Mommy are dust mites real?

Me: Yes.

D: Do they really eat dead skin?

Me: Yes. But they are really tiny and you'll never know if you squash one, so they can't hurt you. You probably squash millions of them a day and never know it. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?

D: Oh. Somebody on t.v. was talking about bed bugs.

Me: Son, you don't have bed bugs. There are no bed bugs in your house. If a bug gets in the house, we will kill it and/or spray some Raid.

D: Do they bite?

Me: I promise you that a bed bug is NOT going to bite you in your sleep. As a matter of fact, no bugs are going to get you. I promise. If a bug gets near you I will squash it. OK? Go to sleep, nothing is going to get you.

D: Well geesh, I've lived long enough to know THAT!

Roses.

I have two of these green containers stuffed with roses and other pink flowers. Well, I did, until the storm blew through....

My Front Porch

I finally started working on our "Spring Look". I like my rose containers. Pretty.

Not long after this was taken a huge storm blew through, uprooting my lilies. I stuck them back...its all OK now!

Tired.

Remember when I wrote the post about that moment when time stops and your world changes? When I wrote that, one of those moments had just happened to me. ONE of those moments.

For most of us, for most of our lives, we never have to experience those times. Our routines, the mundane normalcy of our lives, is something we come to count on usually without even knowing that we do count on it. Get up, get ready for work, take the kids to school, make a dollar, come home, fix dinner, drive to dance, guitar, baseball, go to bed, do it over again. In the center of that cycle, even the smallest things, like a lost shoe or a broken glass, anything that jars us out of the safety of routine, can push us to irritation and anger, heck, even self pity. But what if, in our life machine, someone threw an anvil on the conveyor belt. What if "that" moment in your life became one that drew everything you knew to a screeching halt? Your normal was gone and you longed for routine, any routine?

Yesterday my friend K drove to some land he owned and killed himself. He left behind his wife G and their daughter K2. They are a part of our dance family. There is a group of us who have been together for years cheering on our girls, organizing schedules, attending birthday parties, and just being friends. K and his family were part of the group that traveled the 3 hours to Dallas not long ago just to be there for a birthday of another of the group. We are a family inside the dance studio, our own clan. And, while K’s decision to end his life, pulled the plug on my system for a few minutes, I cannot begin to understand the destruction his choice has done to G & K2. I will hold her hand and sweep her kitchen floor. I will fold towels and leave when she needs to be alone. I will do whatever she asks of me, and some things no one thinks to ask. I will feed her dog and go to KFC for K2. I will cry and I will pray.

And, I will ask you to pray.

What else can I do?

Jazzy

Her favorite recital outfit this year. She is growing up!!!

Funeral procession

Looking in my side mirror. Alot of people loved her.

Gran

We buried my beautiful Gran on the hill next to Chank with a soft, cool wind blowing and the sun shining bright above. I smiled during the graveside service because there we all were, the kids, grandkids, greats, cousins, nieces, nephews, all of us, praying together. You know she loved that moment. The three great great grandkids played near her headstone and took turns sniffing the flowers that were sent. Every so often you'd hear one of her great grandkids, now turned into Mom and Dad, scold their babies for fighting, pushing, throwing rocks, and all that goes along with being small and having your cousins around to harass.

Can you imagine the reunion that took place with the Turney girls?! Poor Earl, outnumbered still. Oh how she missed her sisters. And oh how happy she was to see them, I am certain.

After, we all gathered at Mom and Dad's to eat, visit, and ultimately divide up the plants! So many people loved her and it's nice to think that we all took a living piece of her memory home, even in the form of an ivy or azalea. I know my garden, like so many other parts of my life, will be a more beautiful place now because of her. She was my safe haven, my place of total acceptance. She taught me how to drive. She was waiting for me everyday after school. She took me to worship. She was my Gran and I love her.

I thank God for blessing me with her in my life.

It is not goodbye, just til I see her again.

Stop Looking At Me.

Thankful

Not long I ago I came across KellysKornerBlog.com. It is written by a women in Arkansas whose baby girl was very ill immediately after her birth. She blogged about her experience and has a list of families with needing prayers for their baby’s on her site. (Her baby girl is home now and growing and absolutely gorgeous) I found myself linking to other sites where parents of children with EB, and cancer, and victims of SIDS, and so on, are writing about their struggles and triumphs. Most of these blogs had begun as just a typical happy family blog with no trace of the agony to come. I became almost fascinated with reading these blogs and for some reason, with finding the day they received their news, the day their lives went from a happy, normal, day to day existence to that of a family with a seriously ill child. It isn’t a morbid fascination, but more of a "how do you survive that" fascination. I have found strength and faith and hope in their stories and they have found their way into my prayers.

I never thought that it would be on my own blog that I could look back at someday and be able to pick out "that" moment with one of my own children, and what we went through can’t compare with the struggles of these families. Our stay in the hospital was brief. Her illness, while very serious, should have no lasting effects. The disruption to our life and to our family was limited to those few days of sleeping on the hospital floor, re-scheduling a birthday party, and the minor inconveniences of preparing a special diet and monitoring her blood pressure.

I can tell you now that "that" day, that blog post, that moment in time, makes the earth stop turning. To hear those words from a doctor that "they are waiting for you (at the hospital)", and "are you sitting down" or to listen to the conversation between nurses, doctors and paramedics about what would be the best way to transport, helicopter or ambulance, makes time stand still. Nothing exists outside the walls of Children’s hospital. Shopping, shoes, groceries, vanity, none of these things matter. The people outside are going about their routines, grabbing lunch at a Sonic, laughing at goofy jokes on Facebook, but you are oblivious to anything but the sounds of the halls which lead to the rooms of sick children and hopeful, tired parents.

It is impossible for me to spend a day now without asking God to fill those halls with His mercy and His strength. I pray that He comforts the children, the nurses, the Moms and Dads. I pray for Angels to walk those halls. I do not close my eyes at night with thanking God for my blessings and His mercy.

If you are one of those parents fighting for your child’s life or grieving for a life lost, I pray for you. May God give you the strength, comfort, understanding, and rest that you need to face another day.

May He have mercy on us all.

Well that was vague.

I am finally sitting down to face my blog after horribly neglecting writing about last week. Masen was diagnosed with post strep glomulonephritis. Basically she had strep throat and her body thought her kidneys were part of the strep and began to attack her kidneys. Apparently this is not common, but not uncommon! Did you know? I sure didn't. After fighting her blood pressure for a few days, losing 17 lbs (most water from the edema caused by her kidneys not working), bursting all the vessels in her eyes (her poor eyes!), and being placed on a low sodium diet, we are home with two different blood pressure monitors. My daughter is an amazing person and handled this all so well. Today she is laughing and smiling her beautiful Macy smile. I feel like I have been holding my breath for weeks and I am still afraid to let go and exhale. This morning I had a major deja vu moment when I flashed back to a dream I had months ago. All I remembered of this dream was that Sis was very very sick and it had to do with her blood pressure. I remember dismissing the dream with the thoughts, what kid her age has BP issues? Geesh, I really have to learn to tune in more!

On another note: today Chris and I have been married 16 years. All I can say honey, is "If God gave me the chance to do it all again, I'd choose you again."

Stress

We are now in Childrens hospital in OKC. Masen was transported by ambulance, from Tulsa last night. I'll post more later.

Its been a long week!

After spending one day in Tulsa at St. Francis/Children's hospital in the ER, and the next day in OKC for testing, we are back in OKC for a dance competition. Macy has had some health problems lately but seems to be back to her old self today. Chris and I have aged about 50 years and are both so tired we are silly. (Oh wait...nevermind) Dillon opted to stay home with his "Mammy". I don't look forward to the day when he WANTS to come to dance competitions to see girls in their costumes!!

Pictures to follow.

Did I mention the flat tire we had on the way up here today?

Nervous breakdown to follow.

Yesterday I turned 39.

Miss Clairol to follow.

HA. I am going to bed.

Have I mentioned lately...

how blessed I am?

And then she spewed...

Kellye and I have been friends since grade school. We've had our ups and downs, but now that we are "grown ups" we've morphed into a really comfortable friendship which I genuinely value. Kellye has a daughter just a few weeks older than Masen. They are in the same grade at the same school where Kellye and I met, with two of the same teachers we had!

Last weekend, Kara, along with two other 5th grade girls, came home with Sis. They wanted to head to a movie, so we loaded up and headed on our way. All four girls decided to squeeze into the 3rd row seat, which really is only big enough for two. (Yeah, I know...call the highway patrol, they were as far away from the drivers seat as they could get!) So there they are, all packed in tight like sardines when all of a sudden I hear MICKIE KARA IS THROWING UPPPPPPPPPPP. (in my new car I have to add here) Poor thing. She had been snacking on cheez-its and chasing them with fruit punch. Now, please realize that being in the 3rd row seat meant she had to CRAWL OVER the middle seat to get out. It looked like a crime scene in my vehicle. You could track her every move.

Alot of things happened between me slamming on the brakes and stopping in the middle of the service road, little girls piling onto the highway shoulder, police officers showing up, etc...and when Kellye drove up to get Kara. But my first words to my dear ol' pal were "We are no longer friends." Of course I was kidding, until I had to clean my car.

Not really. Kellye did, after all, help me potty train Dillon.

Poop and Puke. That's pretty even.

You know you live in Oklahoma when...

Your ten day forecast includes a chance of snow AND a day over 80 degrees.

This is my Mother.

In the words of Jeff Foxworthy...."my children share these genes."

Simple Man

Conversation this morning with my husband:

We were talking about the fires in Australia and I commented that Australia was one place I had always wanted to see.

So, I thought I’d ask my husband if there was any place he’d like to visit, thinking I’d start a nice, informational, lets-talk-more conversation. This is what I got instead.

Me: What do you want to see?
He: Boobs.
Me: I’m serious
He: (tilted head, cocked eyebrow) How long have you known me?
Me: Never mind.

Living the Glamorous Life (aka He's a Banker)

I got this email from my husband last week.

"In 2 hours and 50 minutes, I have been called, Sweetie, Honey, and Blood Sucking S.O.B. My day is complete."

My reply? "Honey, you accomplished that before you left home!"

LOL
Oh come on! I was just kidding!!!

She Only Does it to Irritate Me

My mother. My wonderful, funny, crazy Mom. She has done more than her part in helping raise my kids. They love their Mammy more than the ice cream she feeds them for breakfast. I have to tell you though, that since the day my daughter was born, she has said that she looks nothing like me. All I've heard is how much both my kids look EXACTLY like Chris. (Albeit, Masen ACTS just like him, but that is another post...) She is the only person on the planet that has ever said my daughter does not look like me, and she says it repeatedly. I think she is only trying to see if, and how much, it bothers me.

SO...I post these pictures to show you, that even at 8 weeks old, she looked JUST LIKE HER MOMMY!

Deal with it Mammy!

Its in the GENES

My sister called me this morning and started the conversation with "Let me tell you what your parents did". I knew it was going to be good because they were now MY parents. So it seems last night, she called Mom on her cell phone and they were having a conversation about Mom and Dad being at Macy's ball game and Dillon has one tonight and blah blah, so forth and so on. A few minutes into the conversation, my Sisters cell phone beeped with a call waiting. She glanced at it and noticed it was Dad.

So, she asks "Mom, where is Dad?"
Reta says "He's driving".
Sister: "Ya'll are together??"
Reta: "Yeah, why?"
Sister: "Poke him in the arm and tell him you are on the phone with me."

LOL. And who says communication is the key to a long marriage?!

What are YOU lookin' at?

My Drive To Work Today

Of Ice and Me

I'll apologize to Steinbeck later.

In 2000-01 we had an ice storm. I was very pregnant with Dillon and hormonal is an understatement. We had no heat, no water, no power. We moved in with my parents who at least had a wood stove and camping equipment. Then in 2007, the ice moved in and at one point not a single business in the city of McAlester was open, not even Wal Mart. My parents were without electricity for almost two weeks. We were lucky, we were only without power for a few hours. So, when the meterologists started predicting bad weather and issueing Ice Storm Warnings for our area, my first reaction was NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO.

So far so good. Yes, the ice is falling, but (keeping fingers crossed) its not that bad. Now I've said it...let's hope it stays this way. If not, great whining and whimpering will follow.

%*#@*&$%# DOG!!!!!!!

Last night, all is peaceful and serene in my world. The kids are in bed, trying NOT to fall asleep, Chris is with Dillon, I am on the couch under the afghan my grandmother crocheted. It's dark. It's warm. I have the t.v. tuned into the weather channel (does this happen when you get old?) and the volume turned down low. I am just lying there enjoying the end of the day, all wrapped up in the sublime normalcy and routine of it all. And then...about five feet from my head, just outside the living room window, while sitting on the front porch...."Angel" cut loose. I swear her howl was adapted from watching every wilderness horror movie ever made. The hair on my arms stood up. I kid you not.

It's alright though, we are getting new furniture, nobody ever has to know about the wet spot/stain on the couch!

KHARMA

I went to OU on saturday for my Evidence class. Also taking this class is a lady who lives not too far from my hometown. I'll call her "K". So, after getting up before dawn and driving 2 hours to Norman, we sit in a classroom from 9 am to 5 pm stopping only for a couple of breaks and lunch. Last saturday however, we got out an hour early and head home. I had left the classroom before "K" and stopped for gas and a coke. A few miles down the road "K" and I met up about half way home. As we were driving through Seminole, I recognized her car in front of me. Now any of you that know me at all will not be surprised that my first thought, was "AH HA! I am going to pass her!!" Yes, I know, it is surprising that I am not a Nascar fan, but anyway..., pass her I did. So, I am rocking on down the road and a few miles later...there he is...a troop D highway patrolman. I went ahead and pulled over before I saw his lights come on. (Let's just say..I've been here before!) Sure enough, here he came. As I am chatting with Mr. OHP about my speed, I see "K" pass by, grinning from ear to ear. (Yeah, I deserved the laugh she was having at my expense). He finishes with me (I got a warning) and lets me go, I called my friend "T', whose ex-husband is the troop D commander AND my daughter was at his house that very minute playing with their daughter. As I am telling her about my troop D experience I see ANOTHER one. I said OH CRAP "T" there's another one and instinctively hit my brakes. And there she was...parked in front of the OHP, with his lights flashing, it was "K". She smiled and waved as I went by.

I think they are after us.

Thus ended another school day for me and "K".

Critters

Masen loves animals. If she had her way, she'd spend everyday with her horses, dogs, cats, and any other kind of critter that happened along. As you can tell by the look on "Angel the Wolfdog"s face, they love her too.

Woman Driver

I think the dialogue in the "gator" went something like this:

Macy: OH CRAP!! MOOOVE.

Jeannie: I'm too old for this! (ha ha ha)

Dillon: YYYYYEEEEE HHHHAAAAAAA (Dukes of Hazzard style)

Bethany: (yawn) Am I really related to these people??

Crying Wolf

My sister found a stray dog on the road and took it home. It turned out to be the sweetest dog ever. All she wants to do is lay on her back and have you scratch her belly. She doesn't roam and will jump in your car for a ride on a seconds notice. BUT, it turns out she doesn't mix well with chickens. So...she ended up at MY house. What my kind, loving sister neglected to tell me is that, Angel (Macy named her), is part wolf. She has a howl that will turn your blood cold and make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. (Or as in CF's case, make you almost wet yourself if you are feeding in the middle of the night and she cuts loose only 20 ft. behind you) I've also noticed that NONE, not one single cat, will come near my house. I love cats. We have always had tons of barn cats which I would feed on the back patio. They in turn would bring their dead "critters" to my back door to show their appreciation. It was more of a love-hate relationship. But now, they won't come anywhere close to the house. Basic instinct or survival skill? It could just be that Angel can run alot faster than the basset hound, or it could be that they somehow know there is a small part of her that will eat them for a snack.

Happy New Year

Fresh start.
Resolutions?
EXERCISE.
2009.
Off to a rough start.
Is it spring yet?