The Last Day

I read a blog once that a mom wrote about how we record all the firsts our children have. Their first tooth, first step, first word, first day of school. But we don't record their lasts because most of the time we don't know that it will be the last. Their last diaper, the last time they cry when you drop them off at school, the last time they come crawling into your bed in the middle of the night or the last time that you read them a bedtime story.Tomorrow is one of those lasts for T. When I wake up in the morning it will be T's last day of high school. He will officially be a graduate tomorrow night.  For those of you who don't know, we homeschooled our oldest (and then only) son until he was in the 7th grade. I always loved being at home with my little boy and since I thought that he was going to be my one and only child I couldn't bear the thoughts of being apart from him for long. I decided to  homeschool after a friend asked where I was sending him for Kindergarten and I said I was not sure. I was having a very difficult time trying to make a decision that I frankly didn't want to think about. She suggested homeschooling and gave me some information about it.

I was hooked from the first article I read about it. I can remember sitting on the back steps of my mom and dad's house reading homeschooling magazines over and over. The lifestyle that homeschooling provides was just what I was looking for. In fact, I think I was born to be a homeschool mom. I really miss the gift of teaching my own child as we rise in the morning and as we live out our everyday lives. I miss staying up late to research scorpions because we found one in the light fixture on our way to bed. I long for spring days at the lake with other homeschool families. My most precious memories are of us curled up reading to each other. There are so many books that I remember reading together. Red Sails to Capri opened the door of reading aloud to us and was the first to inspire us to research the location it was written about. We laughed during Strawberry Girl and cried when we read Gladys Ayward. We were inspired, convicted, and entertained by the books that we read together. I miss those days so much. I would trade almost anything to be able to relive even the most difficult of those days.

I find myself suddenly at the end of yet another chapter in my life. A turning point. One of my child's lasts. Now I understand what my mom meant when she said, "When kids are little they step on your toes, but when they are grown they step on your heart." It isn't that they try to break your heart or that they have done anything wrong but letting them go is heartbreaking. My heart is broken tonight and I really don't know how I will make it through tomorrow. Well, yes I really do. Grace. God's grace will get me through like it always does. I'm running low on grace tonight but God's Word says that His grace is sufficient and will be renewed every morning.

~Lamentations 3:22-23 ~ The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.~

So, when I wake in the morning I will will rest knowing that God is still on His throne, still in control, and still pouring out blessings on His children. I will look expectantly into the future waiting to see what wonderful blessings He still has in store for our family.

The Last Day

I read a blog once that a mom wrote about how we record all the firsts our children have. Their first tooth, first step, first word, first day of school. But we don't record their lasts because most of the time we don't know that it will be the last. Their last diaper, the last time they cry when you drop them off at school, the last time they come crawling into your bed in the middle of the night or the last time that you read them a bedtime story.Tomorrow is one of those lasts for T. When I wake up in the morning it will be T's last day of high school. He will officially be a graduate tomorrow night.  For those of you who don't know, we homeschooled our oldest (and then only) son until he was in the 7th grade. I always loved being at home with my little boy and since I thought that he was going to be my one and only child I couldn't bear the thoughts of being apart from him for long. I decided to  homeschool after a friend asked where I was sending him for Kindergarten and I said I was not sure. I was having a very difficult time trying to make a decision that I frankly didn't want to think about. She suggested homeschooling and gave me some information about it.

I was hooked from the first article I read about it. I can remember sitting on the back steps of my mom and dad's house reading homeschooling magazines over and over. The lifestyle that homeschooling provides was just what I was looking for. In fact, I think I was born to be a homeschool mom. I really miss the gift of teaching my own child as we rise in the morning and as we live out our everyday lives. I miss staying up late to research scorpions because we found one in the light fixture on our way to bed. I long for spring days at the lake with other homeschool families. My most precious memories are of us curled up reading to each other. There are so many books that I remember reading together. Red Sails to Capri opened the door of reading aloud to us and was the first to inspire us to research the location it was written about. We laughed during Strawberry Girl and cried when we read Gladys Ayward. We were inspired, convicted, and entertained by the books that we read together. I miss those days so much. I would trade almost anything to be able to relive even the most difficult of those days.

I find myself suddenly at the end of yet another chapter in my life. A turning point. One of my child's lasts. Now I understand what my mom meant when she said, "When kids are little they step on your toes, but when they are grown they step on your heart." It isn't that they try to break your heart or that they have done anything wrong but letting them go is heartbreaking. My heart is broken tonight and I really don't know how I will make it through tomorrow. Well, yes I really do. Grace. God's grace will get me through like it always does. I'm running low on grace tonight but God's Word says that His grace is sufficient and will be renewed every morning.

~Lamentations 3:22-23 ~ The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.~

So, when I wake in the morning I will will rest knowing that God is still on His throne, still in control, and still pouring out blessings on His children. I will look expectantly into the future waiting to see what wonderful blessings He still has in store for our family.

Not Me Monday

This blog event was started by McMama as a way for bloggers to fess up to all the unfortunate things that happen to them. Stop by her blog to see what everyone has not been doing this week. As for me I absolutely did not spray oven cleaner in my oven and leave it to do its magic only to return home to find that my teenage son came home from work and preheated the oven. Thank goodness that did not happen. I am much too smart to spray my oven and not leave a note for others in the house to see. I also was not the reason the oven needed to be cleaned in the first place. I did not overfill a cornbread pan and watch as it overflowed into the bottom of my oven. And it most certainly has not stayed that way for at least a month. I would never leave my oven with even one spot in it.

I also did not eat two cheddar cheese sandwiches one night at 11:00. I am much too health conscious to do anything like that. If anyone tells you they saw my husband buying hot fudge Sundays and apple pies at McDonalds late one night they have mistaken him for someone else. And if it was him he most certainly was not buying one of the Sundays and apple pies for me.

Not Me Monday

This blog event was started by McMama as a way for bloggers to fess up to all the unfortunate things that happen to them. Stop by her blog to see what everyone has not been doing this week. As for me I absolutely did not spray oven cleaner in my oven and leave it to do its magic only to return home to find that my teenage son came home from work and preheated the oven. Thank goodness that did not happen. I am much too smart to spray my oven and not leave a note for others in the house to see. I also was not the reason the oven needed to be cleaned in the first place. I did not overfill a cornbread pan and watch as it overflowed into the bottom of my oven. And it most certainly has not stayed that way for at least a month. I would never leave my oven with even one spot in it.

I also did not eat two cheddar cheese sandwiches one night at 11:00. I am much too health conscious to do anything like that. If anyone tells you they saw my husband buying hot fudge Sundays and apple pies at McDonalds late one night they have mistaken him for someone else. And if it was him he most certainly was not buying one of the Sundays and apple pies for me.

Just A Lump of Clay

I try to live a moral life that is pleasing to God but tonight I find myself reflecting on my character and some of the choices I make. The problem is that I am human. A fallible, imperfect lump of clay. The great thing is that a potter can take a piece of clay and transform it into whatever they want it to be. They knead it, condition it, and work with it until it is ready to be formed. The clay is placed on the pottery wheel and begins to go around and around. The potter takes his hands and begins to mold the clay. Sometime his touch is gentle but sometimes the potter must put pressure on the clay to form it into what he wants it to become. The clay doesn't always conform to the shape the potter has in mind. When this happens the potter does not throw the clay away. He reconditions the clay and begins to shape it again. Even if clay becomes brittle and breaks it can be pulverized into a powder and have refreshing water poured into it to bring it to life once again.


The Bible refers to Christians as jars of clay that hold the power of God working in us. The metaphor is a perfect fit. I sometimes feel as if I am spinning out of control while making my trips around the sun. Just like the clay on the potters wheel is molded by a potter I am being molded by THE POTTER. Jesus wants to form me into a beautiful creation; a perfect, flawless vessel for His use. I am sorry to say that many times I am a stubborn lump of clay that resists the hands of The Potter. But just as a good potter is, He is patient with me. He never abandons me because I refuse to give in to what He is trying to create in me. Sometimes He must apply more pressure to perfect the shape He is creating. At other times (when I am being obedient and compliant) His touch is delicate. There have even been times when I have been off the Potters wheel for a while and I become leathery and hard. I was not yet in the shape that the Potter wants me so He must pour Himself on me like Living Water refreshing my soul and bringing me back to a place that I can be molded again.


I recently read something that someone said about the life we live. He said, "Live until the world is no longer worthy of you." I know several people that lived that kind of life. They lived their life for Jesus and when they were perfectly formed this vile and fallen world was no longer worthy for them to live in. It is my prayer that I will live a life worthy of the call God has placed on my life and that when He has finished molding me into the vessel He desires I too will leave this world to live forever with my Creator.

1 Thessalonians 2:11-13 (New International Version)

¹¹ For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, 

¹² encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory.

 ¹³ And we also thank God continually because, when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is at work in you who believe.

Just A Lump of Clay

I try to live a moral life that is pleasing to God but tonight I find myself reflecting on my character and some of the choices I make. The problem is that I am human. A fallible, imperfect lump of clay. The great thing is that a potter can take a piece of clay and transform it into whatever they want it to be. They knead it, condition it, and work with it until it is ready to be formed. The clay is placed on the pottery wheel and begins to go around and around. The potter takes his hands and begins to mold the clay. Sometime his touch is gentle but sometimes the potter must put pressure on the clay to form it into what he wants it to become. The clay doesn't always conform to the shape the potter has in mind. When this happens the potter does not throw the clay away. He reconditions the clay and begins to shape it again. Even if clay becomes brittle and breaks it can be pulverized into a powder and have refreshing water poured into it to bring it to life once again.


The Bible refers to Christians as jars of clay that hold the power of God working in us. The metaphor is a perfect fit. I sometimes feel as if I am spinning out of control while making my trips around the sun. Just like the clay on the potters wheel is molded by a potter I am being molded by THE POTTER. Jesus wants to form me into a beautiful creation; a perfect, flawless vessel for His use. I am sorry to say that many times I am a stubborn lump of clay that resists the hands of The Potter. But just as a good potter is, He is patient with me. He never abandons me because I refuse to give in to what He is trying to create in me. Sometimes He must apply more pressure to perfect the shape He is creating. At other times (when I am being obedient and compliant) His touch is delicate. There have even been times when I have been off the Potters wheel for a while and I become leathery and hard. I was not yet in the shape that the Potter wants me so He must pour Himself on me like Living Water refreshing my soul and bringing me back to a place that I can be molded again.


I recently read something that someone said about the life we live. He said, "Live until the world is no longer worthy of you." I know several people that lived that kind of life. They lived their life for Jesus and when they were perfectly formed this vile and fallen world was no longer worthy for them to live in. It is my prayer that I will live a life worthy of the call God has placed on my life and that when He has finished molding me into the vessel He desires I too will leave this world to live forever with my Creator.

1 Thessalonians 2:11-13 (New International Version)

¹¹ For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, 

¹² encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory.

 ¹³ And we also thank God continually because, when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is at work in you who believe.

Who Can Mend a Broken Heart?

My sweet G has a huge crush on his Kindergarten teacher. You know the classic young boy who is love struck by his teacher kind of situation. I don't know how it happened or exactly when it happened, but he is head over heels in love with that woman. I would have thought that if he was going to have such strong feelings for his teacher it would have happened early in the year but it didn't. He only started talking about her incessantly a couple of months ago. I think it all started because he wasn't feeling well one day and she rocked him and spent some one on one time with him. That was all it took—he was in love. His reactions to her are so funny. He gets so excited, starts giggling, and turns bright red when you mention her. It is really precious.
I did think that this wouldn't happen until he was quite a bit older. In the classic movie versions the young boy is usually around 12 years old. I should have known G would be different. He has always loved women; even as a baby. Come to think of it both my boys loved women but T never had this kind of reaction. He never had a crush on anyone older than him or if he did he never let me know about it.
For some reason G had the idea that he and Mrs. H had a "hot date" tonight. He was talking about it when I picked him up from school. He had even told another teacher about it. He said, "Mom I have to go to Las Palmas tonight at 7:00 because Mrs. H is going to be there for our date." He even wanted to borrow a credit card from his dad so he could pay. I tried to tell him that he must be mistaken or that they were just playing with him at school. He was convinced that he had a date and we could not talk him out of it. We decided that Mexican food didn't sound bad for dinner so we headed there at 7:00 just in case she really had planned to eat there tonight.
He was fine until 7:49. He would not hear that she wasn't coming. He said, "She is just running late. She will be here." My poor baby was so precious. He kept asking what time it was and when his dad said 7:49 he hung his little head and his bottom lip curled out at least an inch. He tried so hard to be strong and didn't ever totally lose it. We kept him from having a total meltdown by suggesting we stop by a friend's house and putting our feet in her pool. I love my friend. G loves her oldest son and her husband. So we crashed their house and their son took G for a swim. Mrs. H was long forgotten. G's broken heart was mended by a short swim in a friend's pool.
The thing I learned from this situation is that my boys' hearts are most likely going to be broken for real someday. It won't necessarily be a cruel, uncaring act that does it. It could be that the girl he has feelings for just doesn't realize that he likes her. That happens sometimes. It could be that she just doesn't feel the same way that he does. Love is complicated. I can talk to them and give them warnings about giving their heart away before they are old enough to handle it but honestly I don't think that is possible. Love simply happens. Most times without any warning at all. Someone walks into your life and part of your heart belongs to them forever.
As a mom I want to protect my boys. I want to prevent them from anything that is unpleasant or harmful but the truth is that from the moment they laid T in my arms I realized how inadequate I am to provide the protection that would require. I am only human; a weak vessel being used by God to raise these precious boys. They are not truly mine at all. They are His. I can't protect them from pain or heartache. I can't mend their broken hearts. But thank God I know the Man that can—Jesus.

Who Can Mend a Broken Heart?

My sweet G has a huge crush on his Kindergarten teacher. You know the classic young boy who is love struck by his teacher kind of situation. I don't know how it happened or exactly when it happened, but he is head over heels in love with that woman. I would have thought that if he was going to have such strong feelings for his teacher it would have happened early in the year but it didn't. He only started talking about her incessantly a couple of months ago. I think it all started because he wasn't feeling well one day and she rocked him and spent some one on one time with him. That was all it took—he was in love. His reactions to her are so funny. He gets so excited, starts giggling, and turns bright red when you mention her. It is really precious.
I did think that this wouldn't happen until he was quite a bit older. In the classic movie versions the young boy is usually around 12 years old. I should have known G would be different. He has always loved women; even as a baby. Come to think of it both my boys loved women but T never had this kind of reaction. He never had a crush on anyone older than him or if he did he never let me know about it.
For some reason G had the idea that he and Mrs. H had a "hot date" tonight. He was talking about it when I picked him up from school. He had even told another teacher about it. He said, "Mom I have to go to Las Palmas tonight at 7:00 because Mrs. H is going to be there for our date." He even wanted to borrow a credit card from his dad so he could pay. I tried to tell him that he must be mistaken or that they were just playing with him at school. He was convinced that he had a date and we could not talk him out of it. We decided that Mexican food didn't sound bad for dinner so we headed there at 7:00 just in case she really had planned to eat there tonight.
He was fine until 7:49. He would not hear that she wasn't coming. He said, "She is just running late. She will be here." My poor baby was so precious. He kept asking what time it was and when his dad said 7:49 he hung his little head and his bottom lip curled out at least an inch. He tried so hard to be strong and didn't ever totally lose it. We kept him from having a total meltdown by suggesting we stop by a friend's house and putting our feet in her pool. I love my friend. G loves her oldest son and her husband. So we crashed their house and their son took G for a swim. Mrs. H was long forgotten. G's broken heart was mended by a short swim in a friend's pool.
The thing I learned from this situation is that my boys' hearts are most likely going to be broken for real someday. It won't necessarily be a cruel, uncaring act that does it. It could be that the girl he has feelings for just doesn't realize that he likes her. That happens sometimes. It could be that she just doesn't feel the same way that he does. Love is complicated. I can talk to them and give them warnings about giving their heart away before they are old enough to handle it but honestly I don't think that is possible. Love simply happens. Most times without any warning at all. Someone walks into your life and part of your heart belongs to them forever.
As a mom I want to protect my boys. I want to prevent them from anything that is unpleasant or harmful but the truth is that from the moment they laid T in my arms I realized how inadequate I am to provide the protection that would require. I am only human; a weak vessel being used by God to raise these precious boys. They are not truly mine at all. They are His. I can't protect them from pain or heartache. I can't mend their broken hearts. But thank God I know the Man that can—Jesus.

Blessed

I have been on an emotional roller coaster for the past few weeks. There are big changes occurring in my life. I recently graduated from college with a degree in Early Childhood Education. That is a milestone. It is a goal that I have had for a long time. I chose to be a stay-at-home mom for the past 19 years and devote myself to my family. I now feel that the time is right for me to achieve the goals that I have for myself. Well, I am now a graduate looking for a job. I loved the school thing, I love teaching, it is the transition that I am not crazy about.

I have blogged previously about my need to feel in control and know what is coming next in life. Well, excuse my poor grammar but life just ain't that way. God is in control and as scary as it is not knowing what is coming it is also a huge blessing. I try to live in the moment that I am currently in without looking back or ahead too much. One day at a time is about all I can handle. I know that but I sometimes think "what is next?"

My stress level is at its highest when there are changes in motion. I suppose that is true for most people but mine is that way even when there are positive changes. I just don't like CHANGE. I need routine. I thrive on routine. I always have a few days of adjustment time when my schedule changes very much. I get anxious when school ends and the summer with all its fun and excitement is laying before me. I get that way before a vacation. It is like that feeling I had as a child on the night before school started. I don't know if anyone else had those feelings but I sure did. Excitement, nervousness, and uncertainty all rolled up in one.

The past few days have been some of the high stress days. Saturday was the official day I graduated even though I chose not to walk. Today when I arrived home I was feeling stressed and decided to read a few blogs to relax. I don't even remember how I arrived at the blog I ended up on. All I can tell you is that God led me there. It was a divine appointment. The blog is the testimony of a little boy who suffers from a rare form of cancer. He is three years old and was diagnosed suddenly about 6-8 weeks ago. He is currently undergoing chemotherapy on a weekly basis. The story the mother tells is very touching. She and her husband have met many people throughout their journey and the stories of those people are even more heart wrenching than the story of their son Jedidiah.

I am deeply humbled tonight as I reflect on all of God's blessings in my life. I have a wonderful, devoted husband. God blessed us with two amazing, healthy boys. Although my Sweet G has cerebral palsy he is a very healthy little boy. He has never really been sick and has not ever required an antibiotic in his 7 years of life. That is very rare in individuals with cerebral palsy. We have a roof over our heads and food on the table. We love and adore each other. We have so more than most people in the world will ever experience. So, tonight as I go to bed I am thinking about Jedidiah and praying for his healing. I am also thanking God for the abundance of blessings He has showered on me.

Blessed

I have been on an emotional roller coaster for the past few weeks. There are big changes occurring in my life. I recently graduated from college with a degree in Early Childhood Education. That is a milestone. It is a goal that I have had for a long time. I chose to be a stay-at-home mom for the past 19 years and devote myself to my family. I now feel that the time is right for me to achieve the goals that I have for myself. Well, I am now a graduate looking for a job. I loved the school thing, I love teaching, it is the transition that I am not crazy about.

I have blogged previously about my need to feel in control and know what is coming next in life. Well, excuse my poor grammar but life just ain't that way. God is in control and as scary as it is not knowing what is coming it is also a huge blessing. I try to live in the moment that I am currently in without looking back or ahead too much. One day at a time is about all I can handle. I know that but I sometimes think "what is next?"

My stress level is at its highest when there are changes in motion. I suppose that is true for most people but mine is that way even when there are positive changes. I just don't like CHANGE. I need routine. I thrive on routine. I always have a few days of adjustment time when my schedule changes very much. I get anxious when school ends and the summer with all its fun and excitement is laying before me. I get that way before a vacation. It is like that feeling I had as a child on the night before school started. I don't know if anyone else had those feelings but I sure did. Excitement, nervousness, and uncertainty all rolled up in one.

The past few days have been some of the high stress days. Saturday was the official day I graduated even though I chose not to walk. Today when I arrived home I was feeling stressed and decided to read a few blogs to relax. I don't even remember how I arrived at the blog I ended up on. All I can tell you is that God led me there. It was a divine appointment. The blog is the testimony of a little boy who suffers from a rare form of cancer. He is three years old and was diagnosed suddenly about 6-8 weeks ago. He is currently undergoing chemotherapy on a weekly basis. The story the mother tells is very touching. She and her husband have met many people throughout their journey and the stories of those people are even more heart wrenching than the story of their son Jedidiah.

I am deeply humbled tonight as I reflect on all of God's blessings in my life. I have a wonderful, devoted husband. God blessed us with two amazing, healthy boys. Although my Sweet G has cerebral palsy he is a very healthy little boy. He has never really been sick and has not ever required an antibiotic in his 7 years of life. That is very rare in individuals with cerebral palsy. We have a roof over our heads and food on the table. We love and adore each other. We have so more than most people in the world will ever experience. So, tonight as I go to bed I am thinking about Jedidiah and praying for his healing. I am also thanking God for the abundance of blessings He has showered on me.

Organizing

I have lived in my current home for almost 5 years. We sold the home we built ourselves and bought this house because of its location. It really was a God thing. I know He meant for us to live here. It was really funny the day we came to see this house for the first time. Our Realtor had been very observant while showing us homes in the area. Little things that we casually said about the homes we looked at were tucked into his memory to be used later. He called us one morning and said I found your house. You need to come and look at it today and make an offer. It just came on the market today and it will not last long. There are already two other couples coming to look at it today.

We assumed that he was just being a great salesman and telling us what he wanted us to hear but when we arrived at the house and walked through for the first time we knew he was right. This is our house. The home we built had a living room and a den/family room. This house has a family room and a living room. We needed everything to be on one level and be adaptable to become handicapped accessible for Sweet G if we ever need to. I had mentioned that I liked a screen porch on one of the houses we looked at. We wanted to be in the community that this house is located. He was right. This is our house.

The only problem is that our old house has a 10' x 16' utility room with a big closet. I love to make crafts and sew. That room was my heaven on earth. I lost my closet. The utility room I can do without but I really miss the closet. I have been trying to figure out how to live in this house without that closet for almost 5 years now. I just can't seem to get everything organized the way that I want it but I think I am getting there. Last weekend we were able to get my new desk set up in the family room. We rearranged some pieces of furniture throughout the house, I built and painted a shelf unit to store some of my most used craft supplies, and I cut, sanded and painted shelves for my utility room. My sweet hubby spent this evening finishing a cabinet that holds my laundry baskets and has plans to paint it tomorrow. It has been in my laundry room for eons waiting to be finished. We moved it in to make sure it fit and it just stayed there in its raw wood state.

I feel optimistic that we are finally going to figure out how to live i n this house. I will find a place for everything and everything will be in its place. That is my mission. I am going to organize my house in the next few weeks. I will try to keep you posted on my progress.

Organizing

I have lived in my current home for almost 5 years. We sold the home we built ourselves and bought this house because of its location. It really was a God thing. I know He meant for us to live here. It was really funny the day we came to see this house for the first time. Our Realtor had been very observant while showing us homes in the area. Little things that we casually said about the homes we looked at were tucked into his memory to be used later. He called us one morning and said I found your house. You need to come and look at it today and make an offer. It just came on the market today and it will not last long. There are already two other couples coming to look at it today.

We assumed that he was just being a great salesman and telling us what he wanted us to hear but when we arrived at the house and walked through for the first time we knew he was right. This is our house. The home we built had a living room and a den/family room. This house has a family room and a living room. We needed everything to be on one level and be adaptable to become handicapped accessible for Sweet G if we ever need to. I had mentioned that I liked a screen porch on one of the houses we looked at. We wanted to be in the community that this house is located. He was right. This is our house.

The only problem is that our old house has a 10' x 16' utility room with a big closet. I love to make crafts and sew. That room was my heaven on earth. I lost my closet. The utility room I can do without but I really miss the closet. I have been trying to figure out how to live in this house without that closet for almost 5 years now. I just can't seem to get everything organized the way that I want it but I think I am getting there. Last weekend we were able to get my new desk set up in the family room. We rearranged some pieces of furniture throughout the house, I built and painted a shelf unit to store some of my most used craft supplies, and I cut, sanded and painted shelves for my utility room. My sweet hubby spent this evening finishing a cabinet that holds my laundry baskets and has plans to paint it tomorrow. It has been in my laundry room for eons waiting to be finished. We moved it in to make sure it fit and it just stayed there in its raw wood state.

I feel optimistic that we are finally going to figure out how to live i n this house. I will find a place for everything and everything will be in its place. That is my mission. I am going to organize my house in the next few weeks. I will try to keep you posted on my progress.

10 Uses For a Graduation Gown (Besides Graduating In It)

Okay. I bought my cap, gown, tassel, and honor cords to graduate in. Problem. I decided I don't want to spend my entire Saturday wrapped up in a boring graduation ceremony. So, now I have this unused cap and gown. I have decided to come up with all the ways it can be used besides graduating in it. Here goes.

10)   Use it as a cape when cutting J's hair.
  9)   Make a judges robe for G to play dress up in.
  8)   Turn it into a Harry Potter costume that T can wear to the next movie premier.
  7)   Cut it up and recover a chair with it.
  6)   Make a garden flag out of it.
  5)   Dress as a witch in it next Halloween.
  4)   Start a Goth choir.
  3)   Wear it to a funeral.
  2)   Use it as a bath robe.
  AND. . .
Number 1:

Make J a Zorro outfit and have him rescue me from myself. I always did think Zorro was cute with the mask and all.

10 Uses For a Graduation Gown (Besides Graduating In It)

Okay. I bought my cap, gown, tassel, and honor cords to graduate in. Problem. I decided I don't want to spend my entire Saturday wrapped up in a boring graduation ceremony. So, now I have this unused cap and gown. I have decided to come up with all the ways it can be used besides graduating in it. Here goes.

10)   Use it as a cape when cutting J's hair.
  9)   Make a judges robe for G to play dress up in.
  8)   Turn it into a Harry Potter costume that T can wear to the next movie premier.
  7)   Cut it up and recover a chair with it.
  6)   Make a garden flag out of it.
  5)   Dress as a witch in it next Halloween.
  4)   Start a Goth choir.
  3)   Wear it to a funeral.
  2)   Use it as a bath robe.
  AND. . .
Number 1:

Make J a Zorro outfit and have him rescue me from myself. I always did think Zorro was cute with the mask and all.

One of My Favorite Days

Today was a special day. Not because it was my birthday, anniversary or a holiday. Today my sweetheart took the day off (except for a short visit to court--he was not the defendant) to spend with me. I love that more than anything else in the world. Time. We dropped Sweet G off at school, went to Home Depot for a piece of trim for a shelf I built yesterday (I forgot to count one shelf), stopped at Panera bread for my favorite bagel and drove to Chattooga County to fix a screw up someone else made on a job my husband has been working on at night. We were back home by 9:30 to straighten up the garage we have trashed the past week refinishing furniture and being creative, put the bucket seats back in the van (G graduated from the baby car seat), and headed to the Habitat for Humanity Store before getting some lunch. After lunch we made a stop at Michael's to look around and then went to court where I almost cried I felt so sorry for this poor man that was just trying to give a poor man a home to live in when some mean inspector wrote him a NASTY ole ticket. Seriously, I could not be a judge. I did almost cry. I wanted to give the man a hug.

I found the most beautiful desk while at the habitat store. Now (as usual for me) I am second, third, fourth guessing myself. I am my own worst enemy. It is not that I do not LOVE the desk. I do. It is just HUGE. It is an antique heavy wooden desk that looks like it may have been used by an architect or advertising artist. It has a homemade light box built into one of the drawers. What can I say, I have a vivid imagination. Hey, that is it. It must have belonged to Walt Disney. He probably drew the very first cartoon of Mickey on that very desk!

I have been on this creative, organizing, drive my husband and family insane binge. I have been trying to consolidate and with all the creating I feel the walls beginning to close in on me. Like I said, I am my own worst enemy. So, now I am worrying about how the desk is going to look and fit in my den. Did I mention that the desk is MASSIVE? It is gorgeous. It has drawers on both ends and even has the little pull out teacher grading boards on both sides!! Woo Hoo! If When I get a job I am going to have the most gorgeous desk in the entire world that is unless I can't bear to have it leave my house.

I also found a really beautiful chair that I would love, love, love to have to complete my desk ensemble but my hubby said no on that one. He quickly paid for the desk that we now don't know how we will get home and shooed me out the door. Like I said, the chair was gorgeous and I really think that it and the desk are soul mates. I just hate being the person to keep them apart. So, sweetheart when you read this tomorrow morning will you please see if my Mom and Dad will buy the chair so we don't have to be responsible for sentencing the desk to a life without the beautiful chair. It is so sad it reminds me of Kalija the wooden indian. Please don't let the maiden get away.

I am linking up to http://www.theshabbychiccottage.net/2010/05/gathering-collections.html.

One of My Favorite Days

Today was a special day. Not because it was my birthday, anniversary or a holiday. Today my sweetheart took the day off (except for a short visit to court--he was not the defendant) to spend with me. I love that more than anything else in the world. Time. We dropped Sweet G off at school, went to Home Depot for a piece of trim for a shelf I built yesterday (I forgot to count one shelf), stopped at Panera bread for my favorite bagel and drove to Chattooga County to fix a screw up someone else made on a job my husband has been working on at night. We were back home by 9:30 to straighten up the garage we have trashed the past week refinishing furniture and being creative, put the bucket seats back in the van (G graduated from the baby car seat), and headed to the Habitat for Humanity Store before getting some lunch. After lunch we made a stop at Michael's to look around and then went to court where I almost cried I felt so sorry for this poor man that was just trying to give a poor man a home to live in when some mean inspector wrote him a NASTY ole ticket. Seriously, I could not be a judge. I did almost cry. I wanted to give the man a hug.

I found the most beautiful desk while at the habitat store. Now (as usual for me) I am second, third, fourth guessing myself. I am my own worst enemy. It is not that I do not LOVE the desk. I do. It is just HUGE. It is an antique heavy wooden desk that looks like it may have been used by an architect or advertising artist. It has a homemade light box built into one of the drawers. What can I say, I have a vivid imagination. Hey, that is it. It must have belonged to Walt Disney. He probably drew the very first cartoon of Mickey on that very desk!

I have been on this creative, organizing, drive my husband and family insane binge. I have been trying to consolidate and with all the creating I feel the walls beginning to close in on me. Like I said, I am my own worst enemy. So, now I am worrying about how the desk is going to look and fit in my den. Did I mention that the desk is MASSIVE? It is gorgeous. It has drawers on both ends and even has the little pull out teacher grading boards on both sides!! Woo Hoo! If When I get a job I am going to have the most gorgeous desk in the entire world that is unless I can't bear to have it leave my house.

I also found a really beautiful chair that I would love, love, love to have to complete my desk ensemble but my hubby said no on that one. He quickly paid for the desk that we now don't know how we will get home and shooed me out the door. Like I said, the chair was gorgeous and I really think that it and the desk are soul mates. I just hate being the person to keep them apart. So, sweetheart when you read this tomorrow morning will you please see if my Mom and Dad will buy the chair so we don't have to be responsible for sentencing the desk to a life without the beautiful chair. It is so sad it reminds me of Kalija the wooden indian. Please don't let the maiden get away.

I am linking up to http://www.theshabbychiccottage.net/2010/05/gathering-collections.html.

A Product of Experiences

Last night Sweet G wanted to go out in the backyard and "RIDE" the swing. He said, "Mom, I haven't rode my swing in a long time." How could I resist such a sweet request. So, he and I headed to the swing set. As we were walking out there (it takes a LONG time for G to walk that far) we had a very interesting conversation. The first thing he said that I thought was funny was, "Mom, is that where Dad bar-b-ques?" I thought that was kind of a strange thing for him to say until I thought about it for a minute. I don't think G has ever seen J use the grill.

Throughout my education classes I was continuously required to study different theories on learning. I have a unique perspective of children's learning because I am a parent. That is one advantage I have over most of my fellow students. The fact that my oldest child is now considered an adult (don't understand how 18 is considered legally adult) has allowed me to look back over his development and see the results of how he learned. Homeschooling also gave me a different and advantageous view of childhood development. Now the biggest advantage is G. His disability has made me slow down and by slowing down and thinking about how he is developing (while studying how children learn) has given me a distinctive view of childhood development. I can see how his experiences have shaped him. I have always known that G is smart. He has an amazing memory for certain things. But he always scores below (sometimes way below) where he should when he is evaluated in all areas. Speech is one of the areas and that has always blown my mind. I am grateful that he does score low enough to qualify because he does need to be followed by a Speech Pathologist for his oral motor deficits but the language thing just always confounds me.

My poor child has been evaluated every six months in Speech, fine motor skills and gross motor skills since he was about 8 or 9 months old. To him it is just another day at therapy. It is playing to him but to me it is another punch in the gut. It is hard to hear that your child of 7 has the motor skills of a 22 month old baby. It is what it is and those numbers don't really mean anything but still it is hard to hear.

The speech evaluations have always ticked me off in a sense. He is given a scripted question in lots of instances and is expected to give a very precise answer. He is shown pictures and asked to identify the object in the picture. Well, you may say how hard is that? It is not hard but it is culturally biased. It is discriminatory toward people with physical disabilities and others who have not had certain experiences. Take a rake for example. The therapist shows G a picture of a rake or of someone raking leaves. Pretty easy huh, well what if you had never seen a rake or how it is used? Not so easy to identify something you haven't experienced. Okay what about this. I will show you a picture and see if you can identify the object.

How about this one:

Or this:

See what I mean? You probably don't know what the name of those items are or how to use them. You may have a vague idea of what they might be but you have no schema to fit that new and strange information into. You have no way of making a clear connection to the things you already know. You have been limited by your experiences. That is my Sweet G's life. He lives a limited life because of his disability. I say this not to make you feel sorry for him (he really has a great life) but to help you to understand that we are each a product of our experiences. G has never handed his daddy a tool while working on the car. He has never helped us rake the yard or dig a hole with a shovel. He might know that a shovel is a tool just as you can probably figure out what those items I showed you might be used for. But to say specifically what they are and how they are used would not be likely. But I could show those photos to G and he would look at me like I had lost my mind and say: "A stander, a gait trainer, and a Lite Gait."

So, back to the swing. We finally make it there and are happily swinging away in our six foot swing that has been hung on G's swing set. He doesn't like the yellow swing he tells me. He is afraid he will fall out of it. (I did push him out of it once) As we swing we talk and G asks, "Mom, what is that" as he points to our outbuilding. I say. "That is Daddy's shop." He wants to know if Hershall's wife is in the shop. Hershall is the man who works on our cars. His wife died several weeks ago and G has been praying for them for the past two years. That was his first connection to shop. Hershall has a shop. Then I said, "No, G that is Daddy's shop. Hershall's wife is in Heaven." G's next connection was this, "Well, I need to go shop in Daddy's shop sometime cause I never shopped there before." God bless that sweet little boy. His schema for shop is Hershall's Auto Repair Shop and shop as in go buy things. I do love that funny little boy. So, just remember that just because someone is not smart or experienced in one way doesn't mean that they aren't smart or gifted. We are a culmination of our individual experiences. That is what makes the world such an interesting place.

A Product of Experiences

Last night Sweet G wanted to go out in the backyard and "RIDE" the swing. He said, "Mom, I haven't rode my swing in a long time." How could I resist such a sweet request. So, he and I headed to the swing set. As we were walking out there (it takes a LONG time for G to walk that far) we had a very interesting conversation. The first thing he said that I thought was funny was, "Mom, is that where Dad bar-b-ques?" I thought that was kind of a strange thing for him to say until I thought about it for a minute. I don't think G has ever seen J use the grill.

Throughout my education classes I was continuously required to study different theories on learning. I have a unique perspective of children's learning because I am a parent. That is one advantage I have over most of my fellow students. The fact that my oldest child is now considered an adult (don't understand how 18 is considered legally adult) has allowed me to look back over his development and see the results of how he learned. Homeschooling also gave me a different and advantageous view of childhood development. Now the biggest advantage is G. His disability has made me slow down and by slowing down and thinking about how he is developing (while studying how children learn) has given me a distinctive view of childhood development. I can see how his experiences have shaped him. I have always known that G is smart. He has an amazing memory for certain things. But he always scores below (sometimes way below) where he should when he is evaluated in all areas. Speech is one of the areas and that has always blown my mind. I am grateful that he does score low enough to qualify because he does need to be followed by a Speech Pathologist for his oral motor deficits but the language thing just always confounds me.

My poor child has been evaluated every six months in Speech, fine motor skills and gross motor skills since he was about 8 or 9 months old. To him it is just another day at therapy. It is playing to him but to me it is another punch in the gut. It is hard to hear that your child of 7 has the motor skills of a 22 month old baby. It is what it is and those numbers don't really mean anything but still it is hard to hear.

The speech evaluations have always ticked me off in a sense. He is given a scripted question in lots of instances and is expected to give a very precise answer. He is shown pictures and asked to identify the object in the picture. Well, you may say how hard is that? It is not hard but it is culturally biased. It is discriminatory toward people with physical disabilities and others who have not had certain experiences. Take a rake for example. The therapist shows G a picture of a rake or of someone raking leaves. Pretty easy huh, well what if you had never seen a rake or how it is used? Not so easy to identify something you haven't experienced. Okay what about this. I will show you a picture and see if you can identify the object.

How about this one:

Or this:

See what I mean? You probably don't know what the name of those items are or how to use them. You may have a vague idea of what they might be but you have no schema to fit that new and strange information into. You have no way of making a clear connection to the things you already know. You have been limited by your experiences. That is my Sweet G's life. He lives a limited life because of his disability. I say this not to make you feel sorry for him (he really has a great life) but to help you to understand that we are each a product of our experiences. G has never handed his daddy a tool while working on the car. He has never helped us rake the yard or dig a hole with a shovel. He might know that a shovel is a tool just as you can probably figure out what those items I showed you might be used for. But to say specifically what they are and how they are used would not be likely. But I could show those photos to G and he would look at me like I had lost my mind and say: "A stander, a gait trainer, and a Lite Gait."

So, back to the swing. We finally make it there and are happily swinging away in our six foot swing that has been hung on G's swing set. He doesn't like the yellow swing he tells me. He is afraid he will fall out of it. (I did push him out of it once) As we swing we talk and G asks, "Mom, what is that" as he points to our outbuilding. I say. "That is Daddy's shop." He wants to know if Hershall's wife is in the shop. Hershall is the man who works on our cars. His wife died several weeks ago and G has been praying for them for the past two years. That was his first connection to shop. Hershall has a shop. Then I said, "No, G that is Daddy's shop. Hershall's wife is in Heaven." G's next connection was this, "Well, I need to go shop in Daddy's shop sometime cause I never shopped there before." God bless that sweet little boy. His schema for shop is Hershall's Auto Repair Shop and shop as in go buy things. I do love that funny little boy. So, just remember that just because someone is not smart or experienced in one way doesn't mean that they aren't smart or gifted. We are a culmination of our individual experiences. That is what makes the world such an interesting place.

The Reveal

It is time to reveal the beauty that was hiding underneath all the dirt and lace covering my new old reading chair. All classy ladies need accessories and my chair is no exception. I started her pillow last night. I printed the letters I was going to stencil on the front, laid them on top of some contact paper and cut them out using a craft knife. It was not until I had cut the last letter and started to peel the paper backing from the contact paper that I realized my stupid mistake. I had my contact paper upside down when I cut my letters so when I peeled the paper and stuck it to my fabric my word was going to be reversed. I was not about to start all over again so I decided to punt. I stenciled my word on my fabric and then turned it over and by using the bleed through paint as a guide was able to paint the word correctly on the other side. I let my paint dry overnight and quickly stitched up a pillow this afternoon. Now my lady is completely dressed. Here is the before and after photo so you can see just how much improvement a little make-up and a new dress can do for a lady.

I used part of a drop cloth to cover the ugly cushion that was hiding underneath the lace. I lightly sanded her and gave her a nice paint job using Satin Black spray paint and then sanded down the edges to give a peak of cream underneath. The pillow is made from drop cloth covered in burlap and I used acrylic craft paint to stencil the letters. I just love my new chair. She makes me smile every time I see her.

The Reveal

It is time to reveal the beauty that was hiding underneath all the dirt and lace covering my new old reading chair. All classy ladies need accessories and my chair is no exception. I started her pillow last night. I printed the letters I was going to stencil on the front, laid them on top of some contact paper and cut them out using a craft knife. It was not until I had cut the last letter and started to peel the paper backing from the contact paper that I realized my stupid mistake. I had my contact paper upside down when I cut my letters so when I peeled the paper and stuck it to my fabric my word was going to be reversed. I was not about to start all over again so I decided to punt. I stenciled my word on my fabric and then turned it over and by using the bleed through paint as a guide was able to paint the word correctly on the other side. I let my paint dry overnight and quickly stitched up a pillow this afternoon. Now my lady is completely dressed. Here is the before and after photo so you can see just how much improvement a little make-up and a new dress can do for a lady.

I used part of a drop cloth to cover the ugly cushion that was hiding underneath the lace. I lightly sanded her and gave her a nice paint job using Satin Black spray paint and then sanded down the edges to give a peak of cream underneath. The pillow is made from drop cloth covered in burlap and I used acrylic craft paint to stencil the letters. I just love my new chair. She makes me smile every time I see her.

Reading Chair Makeover

I have been in a very creative mood lately. I have painted, made a slipcover for a stool, refinished a lamp, started refinishing an antique school desk (my graduation gift), and revived a frumpy old chair. I bought the chair about a year ago from a yard sale for $5.00. I thought after a little TLC it would make a great reading chair for a future classroom. Since I haven't had an immediate need for the chair it was stored in the attic until a couple of weeks ago. I was inspired to get the chair out and give her a makeover after reading several posts on different blogs about furniture refinishing. I decided my frumpy old chair would be the perfect candidate for a blogging makeover. Here is what she looked like before:

The photo is very misleading. This chair was dirty nasty and the paint job was terrible. Someone's idea of recovering the poor chair was to hot glue a piece of lace over the top of the cushion. It was bad but I figured if I totally messed up the chair I was only out $5.00. So, I tore all the lace off, picked off the hot glue, gave her a light sanding and a fresh coat of spray paint, recovered the seat, and voila. . . she is now a very classy lady. I am making her a custom pillow tomorrow to complete her new look. I will provide the after photo tomorrow!! I am so excited! 

Reading Chair Makeover

I have been in a very creative mood lately. I have painted, made a slipcover for a stool, refinished a lamp, started refinishing an antique school desk (my graduation gift), and revived a frumpy old chair. I bought the chair about a year ago from a yard sale for $5.00. I thought after a little TLC it would make a great reading chair for a future classroom. Since I haven't had an immediate need for the chair it was stored in the attic until a couple of weeks ago. I was inspired to get the chair out and give her a makeover after reading several posts on different blogs about furniture refinishing. I decided my frumpy old chair would be the perfect candidate for a blogging makeover. Here is what she looked like before:

The photo is very misleading. This chair was dirty nasty and the paint job was terrible. Someone's idea of recovering the poor chair was to hot glue a piece of lace over the top of the cushion. It was bad but I figured if I totally messed up the chair I was only out $5.00. So, I tore all the lace off, picked off the hot glue, gave her a light sanding and a fresh coat of spray paint, recovered the seat, and voila. . . she is now a very classy lady. I am making her a custom pillow tomorrow to complete her new look. I will provide the after photo tomorrow!! I am so excited! 

Mommy Moments

For about the past year people have been asking me if I am having trouble dealing with my oldest son T graduating this year. Every time someone asks me that I am surprised and my answer is no--that is it was until last Saturday night. Our Saturday was filled with tons of activities as usual. Of course we had our usual projects and routine things to do like going to Wal-Mart. But this past Saturday we had to fit the Salvation Army into our day (my newest passion). After the trip to the Salvation Army store we headed to the park and the new environmental education building. That is where my brilliant husband thoought of as the place to take T's Senior Prom photos. (It was supposed to rain)

Like I said up until that day I had not even had one worry about T graduating and leaving the nest. In fact I was fine all through the photos. After we finished with the photos we headed to Home Depot for some home improvement items. Still nothing. We came home and started on several weekend projects. Still fine. It hit me at about 8:00. I suddenly had a strong urge to talk to my firstborn son. I can't explain the feeling but if you are a mom you know it. It is that overwhelming feeling you get that says, "You have to see your child, you need to hold them, and make sure they are okay." To me it is a physical need to capture a moment with my child. A way to preserve a memory of a moment with my child. Much to the dismay of my husband this feeling has occured often in my children's lives. I cannot tell you the number of nights I have spent snuggling up in a twin sized bed with each of my boys. My husband would rather me stay in our bed but he has always been understanding about the need I have to nurture my boys. T and I have spent many late nights curled up in front of the television watching The Nanny, The Golden Girls, Designing Women and whatever else we could find to watch. That was one of the greatest benefits to homeschooling. If we had a late night we would just sleep in and start school later than usual.

I don't know what happened but suddenly I needed to speak to T. I knew it would probably not be well recieved for mom to call in the middle of his date so I resisted the urge to hear his voice and sent a text instead. I had been so busy that I didn't take time to have that "These are the best times of your life speech" and I was suddenly overcome. I don't do it often but I broke into uncontrollable tears. Poor J didn't know what to think in fact I think he thought I had finally lost my mind. About that time I hear J say, "Hey, y'all come on in." He looked in and said Trey is here. I jumped up and ran out of the room to try and compose myself. I don't want to be the nut case boyfriend's mom. I experienced a few of those and do not care to join that group myself.

T laughed at me, of course. He said, "I'm coming home tomorrow. I am not leaving home for good." But he did give me a hug and let me cry on his shoulder a little. I can't say for sure but for a split second I thought I caught a glimpse of my long lost dog behind that cranky old cat that took his place. Maybe it won't be long until the cat is gone for good and my sweet doggie companion will once again be content to watch late night television with me. Well, at least I can dream.

Mommy Moments

For about the past year people have been asking me if I am having trouble dealing with my oldest son T graduating this year. Every time someone asks me that I am surprised and my answer is no--that is it was until last Saturday night. Our Saturday was filled with tons of activities as usual. Of course we had our usual projects and routine things to do like going to Wal-Mart. But this past Saturday we had to fit the Salvation Army into our day (my newest passion). After the trip to the Salvation Army store we headed to the park and the new environmental education building. That is where my brilliant husband thoought of as the place to take T's Senior Prom photos. (It was supposed to rain)

Like I said up until that day I had not even had one worry about T graduating and leaving the nest. In fact I was fine all through the photos. After we finished with the photos we headed to Home Depot for some home improvement items. Still nothing. We came home and started on several weekend projects. Still fine. It hit me at about 8:00. I suddenly had a strong urge to talk to my firstborn son. I can't explain the feeling but if you are a mom you know it. It is that overwhelming feeling you get that says, "You have to see your child, you need to hold them, and make sure they are okay." To me it is a physical need to capture a moment with my child. A way to preserve a memory of a moment with my child. Much to the dismay of my husband this feeling has occured often in my children's lives. I cannot tell you the number of nights I have spent snuggling up in a twin sized bed with each of my boys. My husband would rather me stay in our bed but he has always been understanding about the need I have to nurture my boys. T and I have spent many late nights curled up in front of the television watching The Nanny, The Golden Girls, Designing Women and whatever else we could find to watch. That was one of the greatest benefits to homeschooling. If we had a late night we would just sleep in and start school later than usual.

I don't know what happened but suddenly I needed to speak to T. I knew it would probably not be well recieved for mom to call in the middle of his date so I resisted the urge to hear his voice and sent a text instead. I had been so busy that I didn't take time to have that "These are the best times of your life speech" and I was suddenly overcome. I don't do it often but I broke into uncontrollable tears. Poor J didn't know what to think in fact I think he thought I had finally lost my mind. About that time I hear J say, "Hey, y'all come on in." He looked in and said Trey is here. I jumped up and ran out of the room to try and compose myself. I don't want to be the nut case boyfriend's mom. I experienced a few of those and do not care to join that group myself.

T laughed at me, of course. He said, "I'm coming home tomorrow. I am not leaving home for good." But he did give me a hug and let me cry on his shoulder a little. I can't say for sure but for a split second I thought I caught a glimpse of my long lost dog behind that cranky old cat that took his place. Maybe it won't be long until the cat is gone for good and my sweet doggie companion will once again be content to watch late night television with me. Well, at least I can dream.