What If

All children dream. The youngest child will live within an imagination that we are not able to begin to imagine as adults. What did we dream about? What were our imaginings when we were young? The mind of a child is so full of dreams, nothing is impossible. Nothing. To the innocent, the world awaits their laugh and each moment is another opportunity to smile.

When do we begin to lose that? When do we first hear words that diminish those imaginings, that bring doubt to those beliefs that all is possible? What if we were never told that things were impossible to us? What if we were always encouraged to seek after those imaginings, regardless of the magnitude of the dream? What if the world were shaped by our reality instead of our being shaped by it's reality. What an amazing world is possible if we listen to our hearts instead of the man on the radio, the woman on the television or to anyone but the Voice within our spirit.

I reflect on the dreams I've had, on the expectations I've had of myself; not only from when I was younger, but the dreams I still have late at night when my mind is quiet and the world isn't allowed in. The dreams that my heart still nourishes with hope.

Far from childhood, far from innocent, I still find my hiding place in hope and I continue to dream. Let the reality of this world hit me with it's best shot. I will continue to laugh and I will continue to smile. Not because I hide from reality, but because I choose my reality.

If ever...

I may have a hard time settling down, maybe I'm just hard to please, I don't know. I've actually had someone tell me that lately, but regardless, should I ever have someone touch my heart like this man does when he sings, I'm theirs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lzul5rxd-i8

Funnies

My good friend, Tom, posted these a long time ago on my blog. Recently came across them again, still made me laugh. Hope they make you laugh too.

1. How many men does it take to open a beer?None. It should be opened by the time she brings it to you.
2. Why is a Laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman?Because a woman who can't even afford a washing machine will never be able to support you.
3. Why do women have smaller feet than men?So they can stand closer to the kitchen sink.
4. How do you know when a woman's about to say something smart?When she starts her sentence with "A man once told me..."
5. How do you fix a woman's watch?You don't, there's a clock on the oven!
6. Women are like guns, keep one around long enough and you're gonna to want to shoot it.
7. If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife is yelling at the front door, who do you let in first?The dog of course...at least he'll shut up after you let him in.
8. All wives are alike, but they have different faces so you can tell them apart.
9. I know it's missing...
10. What's worse than a Male Chauvinist Pig?A woman that won't do what she's told.
11. I married Miss Right. I just didn't know her first name was Always.
12. I haven't spoken to my wife for 18 months. I don't like to interrupt her.
13. What do you call a woman who has lost 95% of her intelligence?Divorced.
14. Bigamy is having one wife too many. Some say monogamy is the same.
15. Scientists have discovered a food that diminishes a woman's sex drive by 90%:Wedding cake.
16. Marriage is a 3 ring circus:Engagement ring, wedding ring, and suffering.
17. The last fight was my fault! My wife asked, "What's on the TV?" I said, "Dust!"
18. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth and rested.Then God created man and rested. Then God created woman. Since then, neither God nor man has rested.
19. My wife and I are inseparable. In fact, last week it took four state troopers and a dog.
20. Why do men die before their wives?They want to.
21. What is the difference between a dog and a fox?5 drinks!!!
22. A beggar walked up to a well dressed woman shopping on Rodeo Drive and said, "I haven't eaten anything in four days." She looked at him and said, "My God, I wish I had your willpower."
23. Do you know the punishment for bigamy??Two mothers-in-law.
24. Young Son: "Dad is it true, I heard that in some parts of Africa a man doesn't KNOW his wife until he marries her?" Dad: "That happens in every country, son."
25. A man inserted an 'ad' in the classified: "Wife wanted". The next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing, "You can have mine."
26. A man meets a genie. The genie tells him he can have whatever he wants, provided that his mother-in-law gets double. The man thinks for a moment and then says, "Okay, give me a million dollars and beat me half to death."
27. The most effective way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once.
28. Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.

Turn Around

When sleep is suppose to come, it doesn't.
I lay awake and I wonder why. I have so many questions, so many why's, that I get lost.
I can't ask you because I no longer trust you.
Trust is something I'd thought was one of our strongest bonds, but now it's possibly our weakest link.
I wonder where you went, the you I knew so well...the you I've held, the you I've confided in, the you that I'd, still, give my life for.
Your laugh was the sound that made my heart dance.
Your tears have torn at the very core of my soul.

I miss you to the point where it physically hurts.

I will love you always.
Even though you may not understand my actions, know that my love is as strong today as it has ever been.
That, I promise you, will never change.
But for now, I will step into the shadows of the life you're living, because I can not walk beside you where you are.
When you notice that I am no longer beside you and you choose to return to me, I will be there for you.
I look forward to being there for you when, once again, my heart can dance in the sound of your laughter and my soul may rejoice in the man I know you can be.

My Graduate

Charlie is now a high school graduate. My Charlie...is not so much 'my' Charlie anymore, but his own man. As hard as it is for me to step back and give him room to, as a friend told me, test his own wings, I am trying. I am trying very, very hard. Fortunately, Charlie is patient with me.

Charlie hasn't decided what he wants to do yet. He was blessed to get a job that he loves several months ago at a veterinarian's office as a vet tech. I was surprised at this, because, of course, he's never had any schooling in this area. However, he took to the job quickly and loves it. He assists in surgery, gives shots, draws blood and the like. I'm very proud of the job he's doing. He still practices with several bands and I'm hoping that is where his path leads him. It's not just the mother in me that tells you he is an amazing guitarist and that he has the perfect stage personality; people love him wherever he performs and he gets a lot of requests from varying bands to perform with them. He talks about enrolling in the local college for fall, and I'd like to see that happen as well. This past week, he's been dividing his time between living with his dad and living with me. I had thought that he was going to live with his dad full time for awhile, but he's not ready. I'm not sure I am either, so we're apparently taking it a couple of days at a time. When he's not here, I actually enjoy my alone time, but when he comes home it tears at my heart to see him drive away.

In celebration of Charlie's graduation, I'm going to reminisce with a few of Charlie stories.

Casey's first day of kindergarten was hard for me. As Charlie and I left him at the school, I began to tear up. I did manage to hold it together until we were in the car and I let some tears fall. I sat there for a moment or two, and felt Charlie's little hand patting mine. When I looked at him, he said "Don't worry, Mama, we'll get him back". Thanks Charlie, I've gotten much comfort from you over the years.

The only time Charlie has ever gotten into real trouble was when he was in the 8th grade. He walked into a locker room after football practice one afternoon to find a circle of boys bullying one of the smaller kids on the team. He stepped in front of the smaller boy and apparently took on the circle of bullies. The leader of the 'pack' told Charlie to stay out of it and Charlie started to help the smaller kid step out of the circle the other boys had formed around him. The leader punched Charlie from behind, a fight ensued consisting of Charlie throwing one punch and it was over. The school system has the no tolerance policy and the police were called. Charlie and the other boy were both written tickets. The offer was made to either plead guilty, pay a fine and child along with parents attend six weeks of anger management or to go to court. The other child's family chose the option to pay the fine and go to anger management courses, which were probably needed. Charlie insisted he'd done nothing wrong, and we backed him. We went to court. Not one coach would agree to testify against Charlie. They'd not seen the fight, but had talked to all the boys in the locker room and they all told us how proud of Charlie they were. Not one of the campus police would testify against Charlie, they told us the same thing the coaches had told us. So, the day we went to court, the city's prosecuting attorney told the court that they were dropping the charges against Charlie for lack of evidence, and the attorney told us how everyone they'd talked to had given nothing but high praise for Charlie. Charlie has always stood up for the underdog, regardless of the personal cost to himself. I have always admired this quality in Charlie.

Charlie's senior class had over 1,400 kids in it. The graduation was held, as Casey's was, at UNT (University of North Texas) where Casey will be a junior this next year. Casey and I struggled to find a seat because, as is my norm, we were a tad late and the place was packed. We ended up in the high bleachers at the very front of the students, but there was a large screen hanging down between us and the class, and we couldn't see many of them. I had brought my binoculars (and seriously, at least seven people borrowed them) and we searched through row upon row of students looking for Charlie. After awhile, even though I'd raised this kid for 18 1/2 years, they all started to look alike. After three or four speeches from people I barely knew and kids I'd never heard of, the first few rows started lining up alphabetically. Fortunately, that put Charlie in the first 20 minutes or so of students. Each student would walk up to the principal, shake his hand with one hand as they received their diploma with the other. They'd face the camera and smile, which was being shown on the big screen right in front of Casey and I, and it was perfect. Turns out it couldn't have been better seats. We sat through at least 20 minutes of kids shaking the principals hand and smiling for the camera. We finally spotted Charlie in line, and when they announced his name, I honestly developed a knot in my throat. As he walked up to the principal, the principal opened his arms and Charlie walked into them. They hugged each other for several seconds. The principal patted Charlie's back and they separated as he handed Charlie his diploma and they shook hands; all the while being projected on this huge screen in front of me. It was then that I heard someone shouting Charlie's name and I saw Casey beside me, on his feet, shouting and clapping for his brother. I don't think I'll ever forget this night. How blessed I am is beyond description.

Congratulations Charlie. You have enriched my life with each day of yours.

Ponderings of reflections in my life

I would watch the reflection of the moon as it danced on the expansive face of the ocean. It was my habit, when I lived in Florida, to end every evening sitting on the beach in St. Petersburg, as the moon would lower itself ever so slowly over the body of water that I loved, the ocean. As the moon got lower and lower, the water became blacker and blacker, turning itself into the perfect reflection for the moon to set upon. I would sit there to watch the day end. There would come a point to where it was nearly impossible to tell where the moon ended and the water began. To this day, it's the most beautiful sight I remember.

Each of us have a moon in our life. Something that we reflect until it's impossible to tell where that reflection ends and we, ourselves, begin. Whether it's a job, a relationship or our status in life. We're all a reflection of something. I try to be a reflection of Christ. I like to believe that it's impossible to tell where Christ ends and I begin, that His reflection is all consuming. But I can tell, I can tell where He ends and I begin. Just as I can tell where my reflection of a mother stops and the woman begins, I can tell. There are many things in my life that I am a reflection of, but there is always a point where the reflection belongs to reflector, and I must accept that I am the reflected. Blessed to be, but merely the reflected.

Still, it pleasures me to believe that it is often nearly impossible to tell where a few reflections end and where I begin. The reflection of all things good, all things honest, all things pure.

Sometimes we are the moon and sometimes we are the water. I see myself reflected in my children, my speech in many of my friends, my character in my writing. Where we end or where we begin, I suppose, depends on how we appreciate what we see. I ponder what I see, what I reflect upon and what I'm a reflection of. The choice of what we reflect and what we are a reflection of will always be ours, if we allow ourselves to see clearly.

Dreamers, each of us

Young girls dream. To a young girl, anything is possible, even if someone tries to stifle their spirit, young girls will dream. Most young girls dream of growing up to be like their mommy. They play dress up; they put on their mommy's high heeled shoes, put on their mommy's make-up in the way only a child can, and they dream. They dream of being a mommy themselves, gingerly caring for their baby dolls. They dream of a man loving them, as they've seen their father caring for their mother. Yes, young girls are great dreamers.

By the time a young girl becomes a young woman, she's seen that life isn't as perfect as it was in her days of make believe. Young men have brought reality into the realm of their imagination. They've been introduced to the reality of heartache and heartbreak. Most young women have cried themselves to sleep, holding their pillow tightly and hoping that someone who had loved them yesterday would love them again tomorrow. Regardless of how much they've been hurt, soon there will be the smile of someone new that will turn their pain into hope...excitement, and give them reason to dream...again.

As women, most of us have known real heartache, had our heart broken by someone we'd trusted with it, and as much as we've tried to stay open to the dream of true love, we're weary. I've known women who believe they love every man they go out with, I've known women who occasionally toy with the idea of love and I've known women who run with all the force that is in them in the opposite direction of any hint of love.

But somewhere, deep in the heart of every woman, is that little girl that dreams. Somewhere inside each of us, that young woman still yearns to feel the stirring of hope and excitement when someone new catches her attention. Regardless of what life has brought us through, the memory of what is possible is resilient.

Dreamers, each of us.

I still dare to dream.

When God Laughs

I do believe God has a great sense of humor. I believe this with all of my heart. And, sometimes, I believe that when we find ourselves on a road in our life that we'd have sworn we'd never take, that God laughs; He laughs because He knows that this was the road He'd intended for us from the very beginning...that all the other roads in our life had been leading us to this one.

We are such arrogant creatures.

Tell me...

...how is it possible that there are minutes that last for hours, and yet hours that disappear in a minute.

Something I read today that melted my heart: ' That's a current that flows both ways '. If I live beyond desire, I'll never forget those words.

Learning to trust

The small lake was clear enough to where the fish could not hide themselves and the water welcomed my toes with it's coolness. The acreage around the lake lush and green and wildflowers marked their territory with colors indescribable. Trees surrounded this area as if they were protecting it from an outside world, an outside world that I, too, have needed protection from.

I have revisited this place in my mind and in my heart many times over the years. It brings me peace and calms my soul when I, at times, feel under attack from a world that holds me in such little regard, where I am often but an unknown casualty in the greater scheme of things. And yet, I am blessed because I have this place to retreat to.

When I find myself in my 'safe place', I feel that I am in the palm of God's hands. I can clearly picture myself in this place, all being supported in the midst of His hands cupped together. This is where I am safe.

I've never considered there being anyone with me in my 'safe place'. As a child, our safe place should be with our parents. I know that I have been a safe place for my children while they were growing up and still, when they are hit with one of the world's hardballs, I'm the one they come to. However, I didn't have that growing up in my household. In my household, it was my parents that I needed a safe place from. I remember retreating to a small room in my mind where nothing could hurt me as I grew up. I retreated there many times and it is one of the few things I remember well. And...other times I ran. The first time I ran away my father found me on a country road leading to our house on his way home long after dark one night. I carried a Barbie doll case filled with clothes and toys that my mother had helped me pack when she told me to get out. I was four years old. Unfortunately, I kept that way of dealing with hurt...with pain, for many years of my life; I ran. Sometimes, of late, I've noticed that I still tend to run. Not pack and move anymore, but to stop and emotionally leave abruptly. To call it quits and attempt to remove it from my mind.

Today I heard a teaching on trust. Trust has never been my strong suit. I've trusted God, and God alone. But letting someone else into our life means allowing ourselves to trust, listening to that inner spirit that God has instilled with-in all of us to trust. Will that trust always be upheld? No, that would be impossible because man is not God and God alone is without fault. But trusting is a learning experience that we build on. Build relationships, build futures, build our very life on. Can I do that? I'd like to try, but right now, to be honest, it scares me greatly to think of trusting someone...anyone, with what goes on in my mind and in my heart. It's safer for me to retreat to the lake, with my feet skimming the water, and my soul at rest knowing that nothing, nothing can hurt me there.

Am I ready to trust someone else besides God? Am I willing to trust someone with the power to hurt me? I'm honestly not sure, but I may be ready to try. I pray, I pray a lot and fortunately God gives us unlimited minutes in prayer. Lately, when I pray, I've been hearing that word, 'trust' in my spirit. As is my stubborn nature, I've, in my own way, agreed that I will...future tense, start trusting. The lesson I heard this morning stressed to me that it is a now thing. It hit home with me because I've been receiving it in prayer and today was a confirmation as to what I'd been hearing in my spirit. Trust. My safe place, the lake and all it represents, is a nice place to visit...occasionally, but I can't live there anymore.

So, here I am, to me...naked. I will make a strong effort to trust whom my inner spirit leads me to trust. If I get hurt, you will share it with me. This, after nearly five years of knowing most of you, I do trust. And though I may tread lightly at first, I'll tread. I'll put my toes into the lake of the world and hope that the world is as welcoming as my safe place. If not, I trust that you will be.

Kids Say The Darndest Things

I remember watching this at night with my family...times have changed. And yes, I'm really that old!

The Importance of Toothpaste.

I pulled my shopping cart into the only lane open. The conveyor was full of food, more than full, it was packed. A cart was pushed up against the side, about two feet back from the checker. The checker was scanning the items as quickly as she could, but there wasn't a customer around. I pulled up behind the nearly empty cart. Still inside the cart was aluminum foil, toothpaste, mouth wash and two sacks of disposable razors. Soon a man appears with his arms full of steaks. He smiled at me as he stepped around my cart and loaded them onto the conveyor. I expected him to put the rest of the items from the cart onto the converyor, but instead he steps around the cart, starts taking the bags that have already been filled and puts them on top of the items in the cart. I know I looked at him rather oddly, because there wasn't anyway possible he couldn't see he was putting bags on top of the things already in his cart. He put about three bags on top of them as he kept looking at me watching him. I wondered to myslef, with the large bulk of items he was buying, why he'd risk stealing the few measly items he was trying so hard not to pay for. Finally, he sort of exhales loudly and takes the items out from under the sacks and puts them on the conveyor...everything except for the toothpaste. He never looked back at me to see if I noticed it or not, but there wasn't anyway he could have missed it.


When the clerk is finished and his cart is full of sacks, all sitting neatly on top of that lone toothpaste in the bottom of the cart, she gives him his total amount. He pulls out the Texas Star card, which is the card that Texas uses for it's version of food stamps. He slides it through the debit/credit card machine and the clerk gives him the total amount still due. She tells him the amount still due is for the aluminum foil, the mouth wash and the two sacks of disposable razors. Apparently the Texas Star program only covers food and beverages. He asked her to please take those items off of his total as he dug through his sacks to locate each of the items and handed them back to her.


I'm glad he got to keep the toothpaste.

Singing the 'Used Car Salesman' blues

First, let me make it clear that I'm not against all used car salesman. Last year when I bought my 2007 Kia Spectra EX with 9,000 miles on it, I enjoyed the whole experience with CarMax (other than that little hiccup with the whole AirCheck thing, which wasn't the fault of CarMax in any way) and I absolutely love my car. With that said, I'll continue.

After a few weeks of searching for Charlie a car with the $2,000 I had, I was pretty frustrated. Every car we called on was either sold, or seriously misrepresented. Cars from Auto Trader and Craig's List that said they were in great shape were missing a couple of tires, had warning lights lit up or the hood wired shut. I know $2,000 doesn't buy much, but it would be nice to think it bought a little bit of honesty. This was a frustrating experience for both Charlie and myself. Kid is 18 and it's his first car. It's been so difficult for him to find a job without a car and trust me, he has tried. I owed this money to Charlie. When Mark left and I didn't have a job, we used the bonds my dad had left Charlie to live on and I've been paying him back since. This was the last $2,000 I owed him. Casey had cashed his in for his car repairs (engine and breaks) and to help some with college. So, I didn't buy Charlie this car. Just to make it clear. I owed Charlie this car. Actually, I look at it as Mark should owe it to him...but I'm living in reality here, because since he's not covering what he owes in child support, well, his view of right and wrong tends to get a little mixed up. I feel bad enough that I've had to turn him over to the state for being so far behind in support and dropping the kid's health insurance...silly me.
Anyway, back to Charlie and the car. Finally I saw a great looking deal at an on-line site for one of our large, local car dealerships, Rodeo Ford Plano. Of course, when I called them, that car had 'just' been sold but they had many others for that price that were just about as nice. I've since learned this as the bait and switch trick...over a week later, it's still on their ad. But anyway, I went to look at them on my lunch hour and well...none of them compared but I've learned that $2,000 just doesn't buy much. I emphasised that I had $2,000, that was all I had. That I was a single mom and I could not afford to buy a car that was going to need any repair. They completely understood (don't laugh). Mark took Charlie up to look at them while I went back to work and I met them there after I got off. They'd sold Charlie on a 1998 Ford Explorer with 165,000 miles on it. Mark said they'd driven it, that it drove good and that Charlie had fallen in love with it. Of course. So, Charlie and I sat there for the next 3 hours while we did all the paper work (which, when I'm paying cash, I don't get why it takes so long) and they cleaned and prepared the car. They had said that the passenger side door handle on the inside was off track and they were going to repair it. They showed us before we left that it worked. Well...Charlie being an 18 year old boy...young man...man, whatever, he headed off to pick up his girlfriend. The first time she used the door handle to get out of the car, it broke. When Charlie got home, we found out that when you lock the car, the passenger side doesn't lock. Even if you manually pushed down the lock, it didn't lock. Which, as it turned out, was a good thing because when you locked the car, the drivers side door did not unlock. Not with the remote. Not with the key. Nothing. Charlie drove it back up the next day after school and I met him there on my lunch hour. They looked at it and told me it would cost $1,000 to repair. Charlie knew I didn't have this money, and we asked if they'd refund us our money and they did. Which, I'm thankful to them because we did sign an 'as is' form. We did have it for less than 24 hours, but checking into Texas law, that was our problem and not theirs. So, thanks Rodeo for at least doing the right thing in refunding our money.

Next we were on our way to Bonham Chrysler. Now, I'd called on a car in their ad on Autotrader.com. Of course, it had been sold but one of their salesman, Erik, called me back and tells me about a 1993 Nissan they'd just got in that was in really great shape. I explained to him that, again, I only had $2,000 to spend and could not afford a car that was going to need any repair. I know I must seem really naive, but this is the truth, I don't have any extra to spend for repairs or to replace a bald tire. Erik told me this car was in great shape and he said 'I'd feel comfortable putting my grandmother in this car'. Seriously, maybe I am naive. I mean, I recognized that as a line, but there was a bit of hope in me, too. So, Charlie and I headed out to Bonham. From Plano, where we were, it took us over an hour to get there, and we did try not to get our hopes up, but we'd became very tired of looking and getting disappointed. When we got to Bonham Chrysler, we found our car that Erik had told us about in a lot that they call the Cash Corral. It's a Nissan Maxima and has 171,000 miles on it. I told them the mileage set off warning alarms in my head but they told me that Nissans ran forever if taken care of and this one was in great shape. Erik showed us the engine (as if we'd know anything) and Charlie and I took it for a ride. Charlie said it ran good and he liked it. It's a good looking car, not a dent or scratch on it. Inside it's in really good condition, looks like it'd been well cared for. I asked if it'd been checked, all the fluids good and the oil clean (that's the most I know to do, besides seeing the tires are all in really good shape) and Erik said yes and the oil had been changed.
Well...go figure. After driving it home the hour or so, you could smell some oil burning. I took it this weekend to Midas to have a maintenance check done and they showed us that the engine had a lot of oil splatter. They said that it desperately needs an oil pan gasket and both oil valve cover gaskets. I'm fairly certain of those terms, as I said, all greek to me. What isn't greek is the $800+ it's going to cost to repair it. I asked if it was something that could have just happened and they actually laughed. No, they said, it'd been like this for awhile and they said there wasn't any way the dealership could not have not been aware of it.
So, I'm guessing maybe Erik doesn't have the fondest of feelings for his grandmother.

Regardless, I've emailed Bonham Chrysler and hopefully they'll either help Charlie get into something that doesn't need repair or they'll fix it for Charlie at a discounted price. I had checked Bonham Chrysler out on-line with the BBB and they had an A+ rating. Goes to show that you can't always count on BBB's ratings. The slogan on Bonham Chrysler's website is 'family values, country prices'. I don't know anything about country prices, but I can tell you without a doubt that their family values are different from my family's values.

I'm not going to hold these experiences against all used car sales or salesmen. My experience with CarMax was exceptional and far outweighs the negatives we've experienced the last few weeks. I'm just saying that some people should really be ashamed of themselves. If I had to lie for a living, I'd be dead broke...in spirit and pocket.

Regrets

I heard him sigh as he walked away,
his hands balled into fists.
I knew that it would be the last time I'd see him,
but I couldn't say a word to stop him.

I had loved him completely.
I'd loved him with all that was in me.
For the first time in my life
I'd let all my defenses fall...or so I had thought.

Because on that day when he asked,
on that day that he promised,
I said no
and I watched him walk away.

His sigh echoed my heartbreaking.
His clenched fists mirrored my distress.
But I couldn't say a word to stop him.
My fear had set him free.

I'm calling about your ad...

I've been looking at cars for Charlie all week. With what I have to spend, the choices are limited. What I've spent the last week learning the most is how dishonest some people can be. I know people are just trying to make money, and believe me, I understand the need to make money, but to be so dishonest...hard to make excuses for them.

One thing I've learned that helps weed out some of the dishonest people is to tell them up front that I'll be taking it to a mechanic before I buy it. When they hesitate to agree to that stipulation, I know it's time to say goodbye.

Pray that we would have favor as our search continues.

Excuse Me?

I'm sorry, New York Post, we can't hear you when you whisper.

Offensive

Shame on you, New York Post, for fanning the fire of racism in our country. Free speech or not, shame on you.

In One Word

Got this from my friend, M. Wouldn't think of leaving her hangin'. :)

1. Where is your cell phone? Desk
2. Your significant other? Where?
3. Your hair? Stubborn
4. Your mother? Sad
5. Your father? Racist
6. Your favorite? Kids
7. Your dream last night? Forget
8. Your favorite drink? Water
9. Your dream/goal? Stability
10. What room you are in? Office
11. Your hobby? Photography
12. Your fear? Refuse
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Heaven
14. Where were you last night? Home
15. Something that you aren't? Liar
16. Muffin? Corn
17. Wish list item? Savings
18. Where you grew up? Mayberry
19. Last thing you did? Phone
20. What are you wearing? Scrubs
21. Your TV? Record
22. Your pets? Excessive
23. Friends? Few
24. Your life? Blessed
25. Your mood? Hopeful
26. Missing someone? Casey
27. Car? Own
28. Something you're not wearing? Rings
29. Your favorite store? Antiques
30. Your favorite color? None
33. When is the last time you laughed? Today
34. Last time you cried? Yesterday
35. Who will resend this? Clueless
36. One place that I go to over and over? Home

The Voice (part 2)

Again, I published a post without meaning to. I hadn't even realized I'd posted the last one till a friend emailed her experience with the Voice. Maybe someone needed it at that time, God's got His own timing and it's always perfect. Mine...not so much.

There was a vision that came with His words to me that day last week. It was one of driving into a fog knowing what was on the other side of it; even though I couldn't see it I knew what was there. I wasn't afraid because I knew that I knew that I knew what was on the other side of the fog. That's the way trials are in our life. He encourages us to not lose our faith when we're faced with adversity, when Satan puts a smokescreen between us and the blessings that God has for us, because even if we can not see them...no matter how long it's been that we've not been able to see them, they are still there. If I chose not to drive into the fog out of fear, even though I knew what was on the other side, I'd never get there. God isn't going to pick my car up (I'm talking metaphors here) and put me down on the other side. I've got to drive through it in faith.

What's on the other side of the fog? The smokescreen? Those trials and tribulations? I don't know. I don't need to. He knows. Could be the answer to all my financial woes, could be the man of my dreams, could be heaven waiting on me. I don't know and it doesn't matter because it's God's plan for me and I trust Him.

So...I'm in a bit of fog. So...the devil has put up a smokescreen to camouflage the blessings God has for me. Okay. What God has for me, be it blessings here or a trip home to heaven, it's still there regardless of whether I can see it or not. How arrogant of me to assume that because my eyes can't see it, that it would mean it's not there. Daily I renew my trust in the Lord, with all of my heart, and refuse to lean on my own understanding, because sometimes I honestly don't have a clue. But He does. So, I'm keepin' on. Trusting...because He spoke to me. Again.

The Voice (thanks, M.)

I've often written about God talking to me. Sometimes after quiet meditation or prayer I'll get bits of 'wisdom' or sometimes I've even felt like I've been lovingly scolded...and then sometimes it's like today.
I was in the lunch room by myself, and as I bowed my head to bless my food He said "look through the smokescreen, what I have for you is there regardless of what you see with your natural eyes". What?? I wasn't thinking about anything but blessing my food. I love it when He does this. The first time I heard God's voice was that first time I'd ever entered a church in 1983, I believe it was 1983. As I stood in the back of the church I felt someone physically tap my shoulder and say "throw the drugs down the toilet when you get home, you don't need them anymore". There was no one behind me. I did what I was told and for the first time in 13 years, I overcame my addiction to speed. So, I know that voice and I've learned to listen to it.

House with teens

Charlie and his girlfriend, Krystin.

Keith, one of Charlies's best friends, and Liz

...and finally, Charlie and Porter

Are you serious?

As I've told y'all before, I work for an office of five ob-gyns. I could write an entire blog about the different calls I get. Some would make you laugh, some would make you cry and then there are those that make you just go...huh??

Yesterday I got a call from a woman who was calling in for her friend who didn't speak very good English but wanted to make an appointment as a new patient. I asked her what kind of insurance her friend had. "She doesn't have any insurance" she answered. I asked her if her friend needed a quote of how much the visit would cost her and she said "she doesn't have any money, she can't pay you anything. If she had money to pay you, she could afford insurance". So, I thought that maybe it was an emergency. I asked what the appointment was for and she said "for infertility, she's having trouble getting pregnant".

I kid you not.

Can't hear this enough...

He Wants To Serve

I remember several years ago kidding with my friend, Dale,who lives in Canada, that I would take my boys and move there before I'd let one of them be drafted. Not that I don't believe in serving our country, but because I don't think I could go four years without breathing. As it turns out, I may be testing that whole not breathing for four years thing after all. Charlie has decided that he wants to put off college until after he serves our country in the Marines.

We're visiting recruiters of all the branches, mostly at my insistence, because I want him to be aware of all his options. Apparently, when he turned 18, they are his options now and not mine, because mine would be for him to go to college, get a great education, then a great job and then begin to raise a family.

I know legally that 18 is considered a man. I'm sure most moms would agree with me that that is not always the case.

Still my baby

Charlie's birthday is Wednesday, Christmas eve. My baby will turn 18 years old. How is it possible that he is legally a man when it seems like yesterday he was barely knee high with his little arms stretched up at me wanting me to pick him up and carry him everywhere? Where is the little guy that would curl up in my lap and fall asleep while I played with his hair or scratched his back? What I would give to have one week of that time back. One week of his taking my face in his precious little hands, making me look him right in the eyes as he'd give me a kiss and say 'I love you Mama'. One week of his dressing up in the craziest outfits, from the cardboard pop carton torn just enough to be worn as a hat to the bike helmet with water goggles. He still has that imagination. He still has that same sweet spirit and gentle nature that he had as a child. Somewhere in that 6'1" frame of what is legally an adult is my little boy...and my little boy he will always be. Always.

Happy Birthday Charlie.

Barack Obama

I didn't vote for him, but I respect his postion of authority and the office in which he serves. Above all things, I am forever thankful that God is in control.

Call Me Crazy

There has been a lot of things going on in our lives lately, and I'll blog about it soon. Just not right now. What I do want to share with y'all is the craziness that is invading my life the last few months. Now, I'm fully aware that by sharing this, some are going to shake their heads and call me crazy. Those who know me will believe me and yet still shake their heads and call me crazy. Doesn't matter, it's all true.

If I remember correctly, I believe the first incident happened about 3 months ago. I was going out to my car one morning to leave for work and saw a huge limb, probably 12 ft long, in the middle of my yard. It had apparently came off of the tree next to my drive and had been drug to the middle of my yard. I went to check out my car to see if it'd been damaged and behind my car was a 3 x 5 ft. pile of sticks and branches. A pile as if it were made for a bonfire or something, perfectly square and about 2 ft. high. I called Charlie because he'd just been picked up about 15 minutes before I'd gone outside by his ride to go to school. He said the limb had been right behind my car and they'd pulled it to the middle of the yard so I could get out of the drive way. I asked him about the pile of wood behind my car and he asked his friend and told me neither one of them had seen anything behind my car. The only thing that had been there was the limb and they'd pulled it to the side. I told Charlie they had to have seen this pile of wood, that it was sitting directly behind my car and was a huge pile of wood. They said the only thing that was behind my car was that huge limb and it had taken the two of them to pull it into the middle of the yard because they knew it had me trapped in my driveway. He said if there had been a pile of wood, they'd have moved it too. This pile behind my car...it was man made...I promise you that.

Okay...I'm making a mountain out of molehill, right?

I started parking my car in the garage because apparently limbs are falling from my tree and arranging themselves in stacks. One morning a couple of Saturdays later, I was going out to my garage to get my car out and as I walked out my front door into my driveway...there sat a toilet. I'll give you a minute to let that soak in. A toilet was sitting in the very middle of my driveway. I kid you not. There wasn't a way I could back my car out of the garage because of this toilet and I had an appointment with my physical therapist for my knee, so I called Charlie who had spent the night with his band mates and asked if he knew when he'd be home so he could help me move a toilet out the driveway. He said 'what'? I told him the story and he didn't believe me. Yeah, I make this sort of stuff up a lot, thank you. No way I was going to move this with my knee, and since he doesn't drive and the guy driving him had gone to pick up someone, he said he'd be home as soon as he could but wasn't sure when. So...I called the city trash pick up. I told them someone had dropped a toilet off in my driveway and I needed it removed. They asked me to repeat it. I told them, again, that I'd gotten up to discover a toilet in the middle of my driveway. When I heard a bit of an echo and then laughter, I realized they had put me on speaker phone. I laughed and said that was very funny, but that the truth was that I had a pt appointment and had to get out of my garage and out of my driveway. They said they'd be by to pick it up. They also called back to make sure it hadn't been a prank call.

A couple of weeks later $40 went missing out my wallet. I tried to justify it by telling myself I'd lost it or something and got $40 more out of the bank because I needed to give Charlie $10 for gas money and that gave me a 20 and a 10. The next day that, too, was missing from my wallet. I was freaking out. All day I tried to figure out what was going on, how could that have happened. Later that night I was telling Charlie about it and he was saying I must've lost it in my bag somewhere. Okay, I do carry large bags, larger than most. I emptied everything out...nothing. Later that night I got my wallet out and was going through it, again, and saw just a bit of a corner of green sticking out from behind my drivers license. I pull out my drivers license and there is my money...folded up tightly into about a 1/2 in by 1/2 inch square. I unfolded it and it's all there. Someone had taken all of my money, and folded it up and hidden it behind my drivers license. I unfolded it and took it to show Charlie. He said I must've done it and forgot about it. Ladies, guys even, how many times have you ever taken money...folded it up unbelievably tight into a square and hidden it behind your license? I've never hidden money period, never had that much to spare to hide. So please, tell me, what's going on??

A few days after that, Charlie had came home from school and let our dogs out, let them back in and left. I was home about an hour later from work and let the dogs out again. When I went to let them back in, they were gone and both of the gates on our fence were open and the locks we'd had on them were gone. They hadn't been secure locks, but they were both gone. Fortunately someone found our dogs and we got them back 24 hours later, and I bought locks with keys for both of the gates. My fence is 6 ft tall. Someone climbed them, took the locks off from the inside and opened both gates. Why?

Twice this month someone has let the air (not all the air, but about 10 lbs) out of different tires on my car. Had them checked, nothing wrong with my tires. If it weren't for the aircheck that comes on in my car, I wouldn't have known.

This past Tuesday I was leaving work and when I opened my car door, there on my black floor mats were two perfect white footprints. Women's footprints. How do I know they were women's? They were pointed toes and extremely narrow heels, looked like pointed toe pumps. I wear size 9 Crocs to work and trust me on this, I was born with wide feet. Plus, there was a part missing from my car. Just one of those little flap covers in the back window that covers the seat release, but still, it was gone. I'd been looking at them a couple of days earlier thinking I needed to figure out how to use those because Charlie and I are moving and I needed to lay those seats down, so I know it was there. Just in case, even though no one ever gets in my back seat, I searched the car. Nowhere. When I got home I told Charlie about it and he insisted on seeing the footprints. You know he thought I was crazy. He looked at them, and said "Mom, someone has been in your car". I showed a lady I worked with, and she, too, said someone had to have been in my car because those prints couldn't belong to me. What I can't figure out (as if there is ONE thing I can't figure out) is what was the white stuff? There is nothing in our parking lot or at my home that is covered in white dust. It's almost as if it were done deliberately because they are perfect, side by side footprints. Not smeared, perfect...and just the two. I stopped by Kia on my way home last night and the parts guy looked at me like I was crazy when I told him my story. He said they'd have to order the part (turns out they had it, how cool is that?) but asked if he could see the prints. Okay. So I took him to look at the prints. He looked at what was left (probably 80% was left) and looked at my feet in Crocs ( hey, I wear scrubs to work!!) and plus the size of my feet and said "Do you lock your car?". Uh, yeah. Every single time. And even if I didn't ONCE, is it possible to believe that that ONE time someone would do this? The part cost me $9.00 and he put it in for me for free and told me to start watching where I park because someone is apparently able to get into my car. Thanks, this I know.

This morning I stumbled out of bed when the alarm went off, took two closed eyed steps into my bathroom and turned on the lights and POW, bright lights, glass shattering and then darkness. I'm still half asleep so I'm thinking I'd knocked over my bedside lamp, only then I realize I'm in my bathroom. I reach around the corner and turn on my bedside lamp, but nothing. I try my wall switch...nothing. I go to the fuse box and flip a switch and go back to see what happened in my bathroom. My overhead light...like a heat lamp light had apparently exploded. The glass covered my bathroom floor, in the shower and around the wall behind where I'd been standing. I am so blessed that nothing hit me, got in my eye or under foot. But still...how often does that happen? I've had the light burn out like normal lights over the years, but what makes a light explode like that? When Charlie got up I told him the strangest thing had happened. He said "Really mom? Stranger than the footprints in your car?" I dunno, you judge Charlie. Later he came out of my bathroom, having decided to check it out for himself and said "That is a little weird, how'd you not get hit?" Don't know...just lucky I guess...with a tad of odd luck thrown in too.

So, tell me...am I crazy?

Such A Dog

I got this from Lynilu . Pretty accurate on my part. If you do it, stop by and let me know. You know we're all dogs at one time or another.

You Are a Bullmastiff

You are confident, reasonable, and very calm. Nothing shakes you up. It's likely that you were a bit wild when you were younger, but you've gotten that out of your system. The only time you get aggressive is when someone tries to threaten or harm you in some way. There's a little bit of wolf underneath all that sheep's clothing!

What Breed of Dog Are You?

Takin' my time

Okay, you know me, I'm not one to complain. Oh, hush Katy. Seriously, I don't usually complain, but I'm really starting to take offense at people telling me not to 'give up' or 'there's still hope' in my love life. Really, I'm okay with where I'm at. Just how many times do I have to tell people that I'm not in a hurry?? I know most people my age are married, and in all honesty, I never pictured myself single and dating at this age. Married and dating may have been more my style at one time, but single and dating never really entered my mind. But, here I am, and here is where I'm comfortable. Besides, I've dated a couple of guys, I've 'met' a few guys...and no one has rung my bell. And I want my bell RUNG! :) I've not felt that head over heels feeling in a long, long, long time and I want that feeling again. I'm okay with waiting for it, really.

So you're wanting to know why I'm carrying on, right? C'mon, fess up. Well, let me tell you. I've got every married friend (okay, 'every' is a tad of an exaggeration), even semi-friend, telling me to 'keep the faith', 'don't give up', 'keep looking, there's still hope' and I'm just about ready to revert to language I've not used in over 25 years. *Okay, I just made myself laugh because that's the northerner coming out in me, saying 'I'm just about ready to...' because the Texas way of saying that would be 'I'm fixin' to'.*

But seriously, I'm good. I mean I've got problems that having a spouse would definitely help with...okay, I just made myself laugh again because that could be taken so many ways and they'd all be accurate. Oh, lighten up...I'm human. I know I come off as a saint, but it's just not true. :) But if I were worried or concerned over my not being married, trust me, I could be married. It may be to that toothless guy that lives at the bus stop, but I could be married if that's all I wanted. I kid. But that's not what I want. I want someone who will make my knees go weak just thinking about them. I have had that before and I want it again. I've also settled before and I will not settle again. If that means I wait, then I wait.

When my well meaning friends (and semi-friends) tell me not to give up and go on and on with all their well meaning encouragement, seriously, I'm just about ready to let my tongue go free. Ease up people, I'm not in a rush! I want to d.a.t.e. for awhile...I want to have fun and enjoy the flirting around. I'll get married again, I promise. Just let me find the right guy...my guy. God knows exactly where he is and if I don't go rushing around looking for any guy, I'll find the right guy. So, sit back, relax...enjoy my ride if you want. Trust me, my bell is gonna get rung.

Sunday in Denton

Casey's girlfriend, Ashley, visited him this weekend at UNT. Ashley attends Hardin-Simmons. They invited Charlie and I up Sunday to go to church with them. I love The Village where Casey goes to church. I've been a few times and it's worth the hour drive to go, it's an awesome church.

After chuch we had dinner at El Gaupo's. I love this place. It's where we had Casey's dinner when he graduated from high school. I got the same thing I got then, the Voodoo Shrimp. Asked for extra spicy and they sure did deliver.

After dinner we visited Wal-mart to pick up some things for Casey. One of the things I love about Ashley is how she and Casey are so much alike. Their sense of humor is so similar, and it's like they just 'get' each other. The entire time I'm around them, I've got a smile on my face. Let me give y'all some pictures of the day.

Casey filled up our cart as soon as we got there with the best the store had to offer. :)

Casey and Charlie with sweet Ashley. By the way, that's a pretty awesome shirt Charlie has on, wish I'd gotten a better picture of it.

We got Casey a web cam to go with his lap top so he can see Ashley when they chat. Mine has one built in, as does Ashley's. But, Casey's Gateway just didn't allow him to get up close and personal, so we had to fix that!

Wish I could capture how gorgeous this girl is inside and out. Casey and Ashley have been good friends for years, since the middle of high school. I'm glad they've taken it to the dating stage.

When we were at Casey's house in Denton, Charlie found a shirt of a female friend of Casey's that had been left in his room. He disappeared into Casey's closet for a couple of minutes...and this is what made us all laugh for a good couple of minutes. Gotta love my kids, they're smile makers for sure!

Yup, that's a Hannah Montanna shirt he's got on, LOL. How cute is he?? Then Casey tells me that he wore this shirt, that came way north of his belly button, a pair of low riding shorts that showed color coordinated boxers that matched the shirt...on the FIRST day of classes this year at college. WHY??? I dunno, he goes for laughs, I guess, I just don't know.

And just one more picture. I know, I'm such a proud mom...but I love this picture of Casey. It's his Chi Alpa basketball team. Casey is front row on the left.

There you go. I'm all done. See, the thing is, my life is soooo not perfect, but I am blessed beyond belief. And, I am grateful. Each and every minute of my life, I am grateful.

LOVE THEM

Please check them out at:
Nuttin But Stringz

I can do it!

I'm not much of a mechanic. Sometimes I've been known to forget which side of the steering wheel the wipers are on, so I honestly can not claim to be very intuitive about cars. The other day when I got off of work, I was on the phone arranging a meet with a friend (actually it was a first 'date' of sorts, shhhhhhhhhhh) which I was on my way to. All of the sudden my car begins making a tapping sound. I told my friend there was something wrong with my car and I'd have to call him back. I pull over onto a side street, put the car in park and get out to walk around it. That pretty much exhausted my expertise on cars. Not a sound, it wasn't making that first tapping noise. I got in the car, revved it up, and still just a purring. Put it in drive, started to drive off and there it goes again, tap.tap.tap.tap. The faster I go, the faster and the louder the tapping got. I pulled over again, walked around it and thought maybe I should look under the hood. Could not find the hood release. I've only had the car for a few months, never had a need to use it. Found it just fine in the manual, though. Got the hood open and still, nothing. So, I get back in the car and start down the road and it's louder than ever.
I call my friend and told him I'd need a raincheck. I'm thinking to myself that I'd try to make it to my home town (just about 10 miles) to my mechanic, but the cars around me are all looking at me trying to figure out what's wrong with my car, which is a really good question, and as the speed limit increases so does the noise of my car. Best way to describe it is if you take a ring on your finger and bang it really hard on something metal. I've done this to imitate it and it's pretty close.
I decide there isn't any way I could drive it home, so I pull over to turn around and go back to a garage not far from where I work. I'm just a tad concerned if they need to keep it over night, they'll be keeping me there too.
I pull into a high school's parking lot to turn around and decide one more time to see if I can find anything wrong with my car. So, here I am dressed in black slacks, a black shell and a white jacket, and I lay down in the parking lot and get underneath my car. Nothing. As far as cars go, mine is pretty darn cute underneath.
I decide I'll have to spend the night at the garage and as I'm getting into the car, I think, one more walk around. I walk around the car and I notice something blue on my front drivers side tire. I get down to look at it closer and it's a deflated balloon, attached to the tire. A long, thin, blue balloon. I'm thinking 'surely not', and I peel it off of the tire. Yup, that was it.
I am so glad I did not take it to the mechanic. Wonder how long it'd taken them to find it...and how much it would've cost me.
I'm really good with cars.

Just thinking out loud...

I am at such a loss with the election coming up. I know everyone is talking, writing or reading about it as well. I've never passed up an election without voting, but if ever I were to do so, it would be this one.

I'm about as conservative as they come. Don't go yellin' at me, or judging me. If you're one of my long time friends here, you pretty much know where I stand on the big issues, as I know where you stand and we still remain standing together. I don't demand my friends believe as I do, and my friends graciously honor me with the same courtesy.

I'm not a fan of either Obama or Palin for the office in which they're running. As people, I'm sure they must be honest, kind, giving and thoughtful people. However, they're not up for membership in my Home Owner's Association. I am at a total loss as to how this country, which I still believe to be pretty great, has somehow laid this selection at our feet.

Obama ~ I'm not saying he doesn't have any experience, I'm saying he doesn't have enough.
Palin ~ Ditto Obama, but divide it by half. The thing is, though she's running as a 'mate', given who her 'mate' is, God forbid, she could be be left running the whole show should anything happen to 72 year old McCain. Even though I share some of her views, I don't share enough. Even if I did, I share 98% of my best friend's views, and I wouldn't want her as our country's president (sorry Katy).

I'm not happy. This whole thing scares me. I keep waiting for a dark horse to show up...someone who'll run as an independent...a write in...something. I come from a generation that remembers the Kennedy's, and Ford, Carter, Reagan...I remember the passion that candidates use to stir. Yeah, I'm not happy and not only am I scared (because let's face it, our country needs a strong president), I'm also sad. This is really the best our country has to offer, the best we have to choose from...this is really our best?

Age and commercial breaks

I am spoiled. Seriously, I'm spoiled. Some of you may have gotten notices from AT&T that I'd changed internet services, so I had a new email address. They sent out bulk mailings from my contact lists. People I've never even heard of have been sending me emails saying "Thanks for letting me know you've changed your address. How do I know you?" Heck if I know.

All started when I wanted Showtime added to my cable so I could watch Dexter's new season. I'd caught it on dvd, and now it's nearly a must have...yeah, spoiled, I know. Time Warner, whom I've been with since it was AT&T years ago, wouldn't cut me a deal and my bill was going to go up a good bit. So, being an all American looking for that ever popular good deal, I called the competition, AT&T. Got a great deal. Here is the catch: with AT&T you can only have one dvr box. I'm use to having three. The one in the family room is a family t.v. One in my room to watch in my room, alone. Makes perfect sense to me. Then another in Charlie's room. He doesn't actually want or need one, he says, because he is always in the family room. Thus my need for one in my room. Perfect sense. AT&T had actually told me I could have two, and it showed on my invoice that, in fact, I'd ordered two. Yet, mysteriously, they don't allow two dvr boxes in one home.

I tried it in my room without a dvr box and felt like I was back in the 80's. I was watching one of my favorite shows, The Closer, and I had to go to the bathroom. I'm hitting the pause button on that remote with all the power in my index finger. Nothing. Then it hit's me...it's not a dvr tv anymore. Right then, I decided, I'm going back to Time Warner. And, to welcome me back, Time Warner not only added Showtime, but they lowered my bill by $30 a month. Thank you, thank you very much.

So, for all of you who are having to go through, yet again, my change of email address, I'm sorry. But at my age, there is no way in hell I can only go to the bathroom at commercial breaks.

Come chat with me...

on facebook! http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1363617637 ~ yup, that's me!

Affairs of the heart

When it comes to the heart, people are slow learners. We can try to cover every base...we can spend hours thinking through every scenario, we can have every situation planned and speeches rehearsed; but when the now happens, the heart caves. We can't help it. Whether we are stone cold or not, the heart is a hopeless romantic.

Deb had recently posted about a woman who had broken up with a boyfriend whom she had believed she loved, because of the fear of the worst case scenario...the 'what if' was too much to deal with. Been there and done that. I'm not in the middle of any 'hot and heavy', but we are always either at a possible beginning, middle or end of a 'hot and heavy'. Even when our mind tells us to slow it down..or to come to our senses because there isn't a chance in hell, there is that muscle that just keeps pumping hope into our 'what if' mentality, the heart.

I've heard of people who have turned their back on love, on romance, on any thing remotely similar to a chance of happiness with another person, and have actually been able to live that way. I've not heard of them ever being the sort of person whose company their friends, or even the Jehovah Witness's, seek out. Sometimes I've felt that I wanted to be that person, but my heart is too loud...too stubborn, too idealistic for me to feel that way for any real amount of time.

Is safety possible in matters of the heart? If you play it safe are you able to really invest 100% of yourself into it and if you don't invest 100% of yourself into it, are you selling the 'what if' short? I mean if you are in a competitive sport, you give 100% of yourself, if you've got a goal at work, you invest 100% of yourself, because we know that without that 100% effort, there could very well be regrets. We have all, at one time or another, gone to sleep at night thinking 'if only I'd'... Is not the chance of real love, the chance of true happiness, worth more? And yet we're so protective of our emotions, strangling any chance of getting hurt or rejected out of the equation, that we will not take a chance on investing 100% of our self, our whole heart, into it.

I know that nothing hurts worse than a broken heart. Nothing. But if there is even a glimmer of hope, the slightest chance of the kind of happiness that only real love gives you, isn't it worth it? Isn't it worth the risk of heartbreak, of rejection, of the kind of tears that come from the pit of your stomach?

What do you think?

Kids

Casey and I celebrated our birthdays last week. My baby is 19 years old. All of my blog friends that have young children, please enjoy every single minute of it. Even on the bad days, and I know there are bad days, you can still pick them up and hold them...snuggle with them or hold their hand. That's not going to last forever. This is one of many things I can speak of from experience.

When Charlie was young, he'd always hold my little finger. Not my whole hand, he'd grab onto my little finger. It was 'our thing'. I miss that terribly. Casey, he'll still hold my hand, but now it's more like 'I love you mom' and not 'I need you mom'...and maybe sometimes it's even 'I feel sorry for you, old woman'...probably, I don't know. Nothing embarrasses Casey, and little embarrasses Charlie. I can take credit for that. :) I've always believed that if you can live through it, you can also get over it.

Casey will be leaving soon for his second year at UNT, and Charlie will be starting his senior year of high school. I don't know how it's possible. I see what wonderful men they are becoming. Both of them honest and caring young men, which I'll also take credit for. :) They're so independent and responsible...well, much more responsible than I was at 18 and 19 years old...or even at 25 years old if I want to be truthful. Casey will still call me 'Mommy' in a way that only he can pull off, and Charlie will sometimes call me Katheryn, in a way that only he can pull off, pronouncing it Katheryyyyyn. Sort of like when he'd hold my little finger, it's 'our thing'. Casey never calls me 'Katheryn' and Charlie never calls me 'Mommy'.

Charlie's band, Forgiven Atrocity, is really doing well. It's not my type of music. I actually love the music, it's the vocals that slay me (sorry, Tony, I love you though!!) but they're getting a lot of recognition and Charlie gets calls from other bands to play bass for them as a fill in. I'm so proud of him. He's got his image on a t-shirt, which is pretty awesome:

How cool is that?? Yeah, he's without shirt or shoes...and that's pretty much how he always plays. Don't know why. He was influenced a lot by Red Hot Chili Peppers, so I'm just glad he's not up there butt naked except for a tube sock on his penis. I'm sure every mother has said that about her son at one time or another, right?? :)

Here is a picture of my guys at my birthday dinner...and as always, they're goofing off. One more year...I'm going to make the most out of it, trust me.

Christian the lion

I know y'all have probably already seen this, but today was my first time and I've watched it over and over. Each time I've cried...all happy tears.



Here is a picture of Christian when he was a cub living in their apartment:























I'll be watching this many times.

Austin's 4th

We all have known desperation, some definitely more than others. Fear, hopelessness, loneliness, and add in a good sized portion of desperation; this is what I imagine it's like to live under a bridge where the coolness of the shaded concrete is the only escape for the homeless of Austin, TX.

The boys and I visited Austin over the 4th of July weekend. We enjoyed every minute of our weekend vacation. The drive to Austin took about three and a half hours, with lots of music coming from various ipods. We checked into our hotel on 4th Street, just a block and a half from Austin's famed 6th Street. We then headed to San Marcos and floated down the San Marcos River for a couple of hours on rented tubes. The weather was great and my getting to spend time with my boys even better. After a few hours of enjoying San Marcos we returned to Austin for dinner and the boys took off for the party that is 6th Street 'after dark'. After enjoying one of the best mexican meals I've ever had at a small hole in the wall cafe the next day, we headed home. It was a great trip.

Something that will haunt me forever was the homeless under the I35 overpass in Austin. I've seen homeless. Working in Indianapolis I'd pass many a homeless person still sitting in the doorways of businesses as they opened up for the day. Or, while living in St. Petersburg, FL, I'd see many of the homeless finding refuge on the beach at night once the crowds started to thin. Perhaps it's because I was with my children that Austin had such an effect on me, perhaps it's because my heart now knows personally the love of Christ, I don't know.

However, under the overpass there were several homeless, some with carts, one with a baby carriage, all heavily clothed even though it was Texas hot, lying on the pavement or propped up against columns. On each side of where these homeless residents had claimed as their own for whatever period of time, were parked cars. Most of these cars were the makes and models that only the rich or the over extended can afford. There were signs around that advertised parking, and there they parked, and walked by and through the homeless that sought refuge from the piercing sun.

The boys and I drove by this underpass several times, and it never failed to have the same impact on me. I can't help but wonder who these people are. What led them to where they are today and what is it that keeps them there? I've gone on-line to read about the many homeless shelters in Austin, and there are many; yet, there they stay, under I35's underpass. I wonder if they have families that go to bed every night wondering where they are. I wonder what they feel as people in their nice clothes get out of their expensive cars and walk among them to get somewhere they can't afford to follow. Where do you go when you're homeless? Why do so many refuse the assistance of the shelters, the organizations set up to help or all the different ministries that are specifically targeted towards the homeless? Do they ever get use to being stared at by some or the way they're ignored by others? And then there are the homeless that are also with children. How do you see the tears of hunger falling down your child's cheeks, with no way of providing comfort, and be able to draw that next breath?

There are many who say it's their choice to be homeless and let it go at that. I don't believe anyone without being mentally disabled can choose to be homeless. There are many who say they refuse to help the homeless because they'd use any help to buy alcohol or drugs...which is probably how they ended up homeless to begin with. Maybe that's true, maybe... All I know is that their being homeless is not only their problem, it's ours...because if it doesn't break our hearts it's because our hearts are hardened.

This morning at church they showed many parts of the movie Radio. I'd never seen this movie, but it'll be something we rent. The lesson was on the difference between compassion and pity. Pity is feeling sorry for someone while doing nothing. Compassion takes action. All I could think about were the homeless the boys and I had passed by, several times.

The boys and I have discussed things we can do. The things that three people can do may not have much of a result, but it's more than three people who do nothing will have.

Ephesians 4:32
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

Draining

Okay, so it turns out my knee didn't have an infection, I had fluid on my knee. Saw my surgeon today and he had them drain the fluid off of my knee and I got a shot of cortisone. They numb it (again with a shot) before they drain it. I don't mind the pain...it's the needles I can't stand. So, the pain wasn't too bad, and they say that hopefully within a couple of days I'll start getting some relief. I have to stay off of it and I can't go to therapy, which is a bummer, for a week.

Dang knee.

When I came home from work, Charlie's band was rehearsing at the house. I'm really not exaggerating when I tell y'all that this band is amazing. What's even more amazing than the band is that Charlie is living his dream, how cool is that? I'm so happy for this kid.

What's everyone doing for the 4th?