The Mystery of the Missing Silverware

A young couple walk into a department store on a mission to purchase something for their new life together. They have two gift certificates amounting to less than $50.00 total. They have no idea what they want as they enter the Service Merchandise store.

They wander through isles of housewares trying to decide what it is that they need most. The bride-to-be spots the flatware and realizes that they don't have forks, spoons, and knives to eat with. Plastic cutlery is not optimal so they decide to purchase flatware with part of their money. Together they look at each pattern available. I'm not sure if the groom had a preference and I don't remember if they discussed the decision or if it was the first of the many times he would sacrifice his feelings and let his bride have what she liked.

After walking up and down the aisle admiring each set of flatware a certain pattern catches the young girl's eye. That is the silverware they will eat their meals with. They will share many meals with friends using these well chosen utensils. In a few years they will feed their baby his first tastes of food with one of these spoons. They will be the instruments used to deliver nourishment to their bodies.

For twenty-four years they eat with those same utensils. Holidays, birthdays, anniversary dinners, snow day breakfasts, family meals, and dinners with countless friends. With the exception of one soup spoon lost within the first year of their marriage the silverware has been used and returned to it's place in the drawer with the others. (Fraternity brothers cannot be trusted to return silverware and dishes even if the chili you deliver to their job is delicious.)

The couple has some people over for dinner. The now only slightly older woman goes to the silverware drawer to retrieve the forks only to find that there are only two lonely forks lying in the place where 8 forks should be. She assumes that the forks must be in the dishwasher because that could be the only logical answer. Opening the door of the dishwasher she is confused when she doesn't find even one fork. Her next step is to check the sink. No luck! Where could those forks be?

One thing I failed to disclose in this story is that this couple aren't just a couple anymore. Sixteen years prior to this dinner and the search for the missing forks they became the parents of a beautiful baby boy. Hmmm? Sixteen year old son. Six missing forks. Come to think of it there are some glasses and bowls missing also. A quick check of the teen's room is fruitless. Sixteen years old? Forks not in his room. Where could a SIXTEEN year old take a fork? ANYWHERE he wants because the state thinks he is mature enough to handle the responsibility of driving a two ton vehicle independently. Although he has proven himself responsible in driving, he has not proven trustworthy with flatware! Of course he swears that he is not to blame for the missing forks. However, they managed to make it safely into their little home in the silverware drawer for TWENTY-FOUR years until someone gained the ability to drive.

Moral of the story: Don't trust young men between the ages of 16-22+ with your silverware. Hide it, lock it away, but don't ever leave it unattended or unprotected because if you do you will find yourself doing what I have been doing; searching the Internet for replacement pieces to a retired flatware pattern and finding out you're going to end up paying more for a couple of pieces as you paid for the entire set 27 years ago.

I've looked for three years hoping to find those lost forks to no avail. I have finally resigned myself to the fact I will probably never see them again. They could be anywhere! So, if you are out and about and find a lost fork I sure would be grateful if you'd help it find it's way home. Just in case I am putting a picture of the lost or abducted flatware. If this doesn't work I'll be renting out the boy to finance the replacement pieces for my set!

The Mystery of the Missing Silverware

A young couple walk into a department store on a mission to purchase something for their new life together. They have two gift certificates amounting to less than $50.00 total. They have no idea what they want as they enter the Service Merchandise store.

They wander through isles of housewares trying to decide what it is that they need most. The bride-to-be spots the flatware and realizes that they don't have forks, spoons, and knives to eat with. Plastic cutlery is not optimal so they decide to purchase flatware with part of their money. Together they look at each pattern available. I'm not sure if the groom had a preference and I don't remember if they discussed the decision or if it was the first of the many times he would sacrifice his feelings and let his bride have what she liked.

After walking up and down the aisle admiring each set of flatware a certain pattern catches the young girl's eye. That is the silverware they will eat their meals with. They will share many meals with friends using these well chosen utensils. In a few years they will feed their baby his first tastes of food with one of these spoons. They will be the instruments used to deliver nourishment to their bodies.

For twenty-four years they eat with those same utensils. Holidays, birthdays, anniversary dinners, snow day breakfasts, family meals, and dinners with countless friends. With the exception of one soup spoon lost within the first year of their marriage the silverware has been used and returned to it's place in the drawer with the others. (Fraternity brothers cannot be trusted to return silverware and dishes even if the chili you deliver to their job is delicious.)

The couple has some people over for dinner. The now only slightly older woman goes to the silverware drawer to retrieve the forks only to find that there are only two lonely forks lying in the place where 8 forks should be. She assumes that the forks must be in the dishwasher because that could be the only logical answer. Opening the door of the dishwasher she is confused when she doesn't find even one fork. Her next step is to check the sink. No luck! Where could those forks be?

One thing I failed to disclose in this story is that this couple aren't just a couple anymore. Sixteen years prior to this dinner and the search for the missing forks they became the parents of a beautiful baby boy. Hmmm? Sixteen year old son. Six missing forks. Come to think of it there are some glasses and bowls missing also. A quick check of the teen's room is fruitless. Sixteen years old? Forks not in his room. Where could a SIXTEEN year old take a fork? ANYWHERE he wants because the state thinks he is mature enough to handle the responsibility of driving a two ton vehicle independently. Although he has proven himself responsible in driving, he has not proven trustworthy with flatware! Of course he swears that he is not to blame for the missing forks. However, they managed to make it safely into their little home in the silverware drawer for TWENTY-FOUR years until someone gained the ability to drive.

Moral of the story: Don't trust young men between the ages of 16-22+ with your silverware. Hide it, lock it away, but don't ever leave it unattended or unprotected because if you do you will find yourself doing what I have been doing; searching the Internet for replacement pieces to a retired flatware pattern and finding out you're going to end up paying more for a couple of pieces as you paid for the entire set 27 years ago.

I've looked for three years hoping to find those lost forks to no avail. I have finally resigned myself to the fact I will probably never see them again. They could be anywhere! So, if you are out and about and find a lost fork I sure would be grateful if you'd help it find it's way home. Just in case I am putting a picture of the lost or abducted flatware. If this doesn't work I'll be renting out the boy to finance the replacement pieces for my set!

Motherhood

Hard, heart breaking.
fulfilling, frustrating, fun, fleeting
Exhilarating, exhausting
Rewarding, remarkable,
Tiring, turbulent, terrific
Sad, Sweet, scary
Breathtakingly beautiful.
Miraculous, magical. . . .
motherhood.

Thank you God for sending Trey into this world and for giving me the privilege of being his Mom. He is so much more than I deserve. Then when we hastily took measures to prevent having another child You once again stepped in and demonstrated Your power, Grace, and love by sending G in such an unexpected way. Thank you for answering my prayers for a child and for answering the prayers of my child when he asked you for a sibling. I am awestruck at Your amazing love.

Motherhood

Hard, heart breaking.
fulfilling, frustrating, fun, fleeting
Exhilarating, exhausting
Rewarding, remarkable,
Tiring, turbulent, terrific
Sad, Sweet, scary
Breathtakingly beautiful.
Miraculous, magical. . . .
motherhood.

Thank you God for sending Trey into this world and for giving me the privilege of being his Mom. He is so much more than I deserve. Then when we hastily took measures to prevent having another child You once again stepped in and demonstrated Your power, Grace, and love by sending G in such an unexpected way. Thank you for answering my prayers for a child and for answering the prayers of my child when he asked you for a sibling. I am awestruck at Your amazing love.

19 Things I love About T

1. His insatiable appetite for books.
2. His gift of writing beautiful stories and poems.
3. His sense of humor.
4. He shares secrets with me.
5. His gorgeous hair.
6. His facial hair (it is so thick and dark and amazes me that my little boy has whiskers)
7. He fights for what he believes in.
8. He is not afraid to voice his opinion.
9. He has a beautiful smile.
10. He pretty much follows all my big rules.
11. He can cook and likes to.
12. He can wash his own clothes.
13. He loves old records and owns a record player.
14. He loves his little brother.
15. He has a soft spot for the underdog.
16. He is very passionate about the things he believes in.
17. He still wakes me up when there is a meteor shower.
18. He is very innovative.
19. He loves me even if he doesn't always tell me.

19 Things I love About T

1. His insatiable appetite for books.
2. His gift of writing beautiful stories and poems.
3. His sense of humor.
4. He shares secrets with me.
5. His gorgeous hair.
6. His facial hair (it is so thick and dark and amazes me that my little boy has whiskers)
7. He fights for what he believes in.
8. He is not afraid to voice his opinion.
9. He has a beautiful smile.
10. He pretty much follows all my big rules.
11. He can cook and likes to.
12. He can wash his own clothes.
13. He loves old records and owns a record player.
14. He loves his little brother.
15. He has a soft spot for the underdog.
16. He is very passionate about the things he believes in.
17. He still wakes me up when there is a meteor shower.
18. He is very innovative.
19. He loves me even if he doesn't always tell me.

Intelligent T

I recently had an opportunity to talk to a fellow homeschool mom about her fears of teaching her daughter to write. She has looked at all the Georgia Performance Standard with all their educational lingo and has had a sudden onset of fear. I can totally relate to this newbie homeschooler. I remember being so afraid that I couldn't teach T to read. I would often say, "If I can teach him to read I think I can teach him everything else." After T quickly mastered reading my fears soon changed to the fear of teaching him how to write effectively. I didn't know anything about GPS or QCC or whatever standards were being used at the time and had no way of knowing what level of performance was acceptable for children at certain ages. So, that became my source of fear. Am I pushing him enough or expecting too much for a child of his age?

Long story short--the son that I so worried I would not be able to teach the art of writing is strongly considering a journalism or creative writing major. He is taking a creative writing course this semester and came home two weeks ago and spent every waking moment he wasn't working on writing a 12 page short story. Last weekend he came home with the short stories of many of his classmates with the assignment of critiquing them. As he read the essays of his peers he began to doubt the strength and beauty of his own writing. "My story is ordinary. My characters are boring. I should have chosen another storyline." I had read his story and thought it was beautifully written and assured him that this first draft had a lot of potential. This weekend he returned to tell me that his instructor loved his story, thought it was one of the best first drafts she had ever read, and assured him that he would have no trouble getting it published when he was finished revising it.

Although I cannot take full credit for his ability to write well, I was the one who laid the foundation. I can't help but beam with pride every time he brings in a new book, goes to hear and author speak, or I see him curled up with a good book just for the fun of it. I did that. I taught him to read, helped him create a love and passion for reading that surpasses my own, and started him on the writing path that ended with him seeking to be a published author someday. While attending traditional school he was blessed to have a few really good teachers that recognized his potential and helped him to reach the point he is today. I am so proud of my talented son and am grateful to God that He allowed me to be the one to teach him to read and write among many other things. He won't admit it often but the homeschool life created a spark for learning that still burns in him today. Who else but a homeschooler follows the Iditarod, chooses a rookie and a veteran musher and follows them daily to check their progress? Oh, how I love my T.

Intelligent T

I recently had an opportunity to talk to a fellow homeschool mom about her fears of teaching her daughter to write. She has looked at all the Georgia Performance Standard with all their educational lingo and has had a sudden onset of fear. I can totally relate to this newbie homeschooler. I remember being so afraid that I couldn't teach T to read. I would often say, "If I can teach him to read I think I can teach him everything else." After T quickly mastered reading my fears soon changed to the fear of teaching him how to write effectively. I didn't know anything about GPS or QCC or whatever standards were being used at the time and had no way of knowing what level of performance was acceptable for children at certain ages. So, that became my source of fear. Am I pushing him enough or expecting too much for a child of his age?

Long story short--the son that I so worried I would not be able to teach the art of writing is strongly considering a journalism or creative writing major. He is taking a creative writing course this semester and came home two weeks ago and spent every waking moment he wasn't working on writing a 12 page short story. Last weekend he came home with the short stories of many of his classmates with the assignment of critiquing them. As he read the essays of his peers he began to doubt the strength and beauty of his own writing. "My story is ordinary. My characters are boring. I should have chosen another storyline." I had read his story and thought it was beautifully written and assured him that this first draft had a lot of potential. This weekend he returned to tell me that his instructor loved his story, thought it was one of the best first drafts she had ever read, and assured him that he would have no trouble getting it published when he was finished revising it.

Although I cannot take full credit for his ability to write well, I was the one who laid the foundation. I can't help but beam with pride every time he brings in a new book, goes to hear and author speak, or I see him curled up with a good book just for the fun of it. I did that. I taught him to read, helped him create a love and passion for reading that surpasses my own, and started him on the writing path that ended with him seeking to be a published author someday. While attending traditional school he was blessed to have a few really good teachers that recognized his potential and helped him to reach the point he is today. I am so proud of my talented son and am grateful to God that He allowed me to be the one to teach him to read and write among many other things. He won't admit it often but the homeschool life created a spark for learning that still burns in him today. Who else but a homeschooler follows the Iditarod, chooses a rookie and a veteran musher and follows them daily to check their progress? Oh, how I love my T.

A Time For Tears

Today we took our oldest son to college. I thought I had this all under control and was going to be just fine. Well, I am not okay. In fact I am the opposite of okay. I am what you would call a basket case. I have cried, I have had numerous panic attacks, and I have fought tears back so much that my facial muscles are cramping. I feel like I look like the Joker. My eyes are obviously swollen from all the crying because they feel very strange but I absolutely refuse to look into a mirror knowing that will only start the crying all over again when I see how pitiful I look.

It is funny how life works. My son was born 359 days after my sister's son. My son left for college today which just happened to be exactly 359 days after my sister's son left home last year. What are the chances of that happening? I know that them being a year apart that my son has typically followed a year behind the milestones of his cousin. It just makes sense. The fact that it worked out to the day on both those events is strange to me though.

We laughed at the parents of most of those students who were checking in at the same time T was. The athletic department volunteers thanked T numerous times on his limited amount of belongings that required being taken upstairs. The funny thing is that he took a refrigerator, microwave, computer, printer, several boxes with towels and linens, school supplies, dishes, books (he is a reader), and clothes. As I passed by several rooms in the dorm I could not suppress letting out a little laugh. Mothers were making beds and arranging the nests of their little birdies. Some of the rooms had so much in them that there was not room to walk. I don't know but I will give the benefit of the doubt to these people that their child will be staying for 17 weeks without coming home at all which required them to bring all that stuff. Summer clothes, winter clothes, shoes, etc. Maybe they packed everything they owned just in case they might need it. Who knows? Maybe we are the crazy ones. I am thinking maybe he forgot something. Does he have enough underwear and socks? Did he take shoes? I know he was wearing flip flops. . . what could we possibly have done wrong?

One sweet moment today came as we dropped T off at the dorm, pulled the van to a nearby parking lot and began our walk back to the dorm. We were walking along pushing Sweet G in his wheelchair when suddenly he said, "Is T going to be all alone? I don't want my brother to be all alone." My heart melted at that moment and if it weren't for the fact that God placed two beautiful and sweet young coeds on the curb directly across the street from where G made the statement I would have lost it right then and there. The girls were a distraction for me and their sweet expressions and tender smiles at G turned a tearful moment into a sweet blessing. G was concerned about his brother. In fact he offered to stay with him if T needed him to. T even had a little chuckle over that one but managed to politely refuse the offer. G did however try both the beds out before we left.

I am not sure what the coming days will bring. So far G has been my rock. He has loved on me and given me wise council. "Mommy are you crying again? Is it about T? I know Mommy I feel the same way. I miss T too." Oh how that boy blesses my heart. I don't know what I would do if God had not sent him into our lives. Well, I would probably be camped out somewhere in Carrolton right now. I am relieved that God placed my son directly beside the Resident Assistant in the building who seemed to be a very nice young man. So my Mommy fears are somewhat tempered by the placement of his room and by the roommate he was assigned. And please do not tell me any different because I have spent a lot of time creating my Marshmallow Fluff existence about this entire situation.

But life here goes on and tomorrow I will let another little birdie try out his wings as he soars into the first grade. I may seriously need some Botox to relax my face by mid morning. So, just in case you see me in the next few weeks be prepared. I have not had a stroke-yet. I have just turned loose of my first born child and my heart will take a while to mend.

A Time For Tears

Today we took our oldest son to college. I thought I had this all under control and was going to be just fine. Well, I am not okay. In fact I am the opposite of okay. I am what you would call a basket case. I have cried, I have had numerous panic attacks, and I have fought tears back so much that my facial muscles are cramping. I feel like I look like the Joker. My eyes are obviously swollen from all the crying because they feel very strange but I absolutely refuse to look into a mirror knowing that will only start the crying all over again when I see how pitiful I look.

It is funny how life works. My son was born 359 days after my sister's son. My son left for college today which just happened to be exactly 359 days after my sister's son left home last year. What are the chances of that happening? I know that them being a year apart that my son has typically followed a year behind the milestones of his cousin. It just makes sense. The fact that it worked out to the day on both those events is strange to me though.

We laughed at the parents of most of those students who were checking in at the same time T was. The athletic department volunteers thanked T numerous times on his limited amount of belongings that required being taken upstairs. The funny thing is that he took a refrigerator, microwave, computer, printer, several boxes with towels and linens, school supplies, dishes, books (he is a reader), and clothes. As I passed by several rooms in the dorm I could not suppress letting out a little laugh. Mothers were making beds and arranging the nests of their little birdies. Some of the rooms had so much in them that there was not room to walk. I don't know but I will give the benefit of the doubt to these people that their child will be staying for 17 weeks without coming home at all which required them to bring all that stuff. Summer clothes, winter clothes, shoes, etc. Maybe they packed everything they owned just in case they might need it. Who knows? Maybe we are the crazy ones. I am thinking maybe he forgot something. Does he have enough underwear and socks? Did he take shoes? I know he was wearing flip flops. . . what could we possibly have done wrong?

One sweet moment today came as we dropped T off at the dorm, pulled the van to a nearby parking lot and began our walk back to the dorm. We were walking along pushing Sweet G in his wheelchair when suddenly he said, "Is T going to be all alone? I don't want my brother to be all alone." My heart melted at that moment and if it weren't for the fact that God placed two beautiful and sweet young coeds on the curb directly across the street from where G made the statement I would have lost it right then and there. The girls were a distraction for me and their sweet expressions and tender smiles at G turned a tearful moment into a sweet blessing. G was concerned about his brother. In fact he offered to stay with him if T needed him to. T even had a little chuckle over that one but managed to politely refuse the offer. G did however try both the beds out before we left.

I am not sure what the coming days will bring. So far G has been my rock. He has loved on me and given me wise council. "Mommy are you crying again? Is it about T? I know Mommy I feel the same way. I miss T too." Oh how that boy blesses my heart. I don't know what I would do if God had not sent him into our lives. Well, I would probably be camped out somewhere in Carrolton right now. I am relieved that God placed my son directly beside the Resident Assistant in the building who seemed to be a very nice young man. So my Mommy fears are somewhat tempered by the placement of his room and by the roommate he was assigned. And please do not tell me any different because I have spent a lot of time creating my Marshmallow Fluff existence about this entire situation.

But life here goes on and tomorrow I will let another little birdie try out his wings as he soars into the first grade. I may seriously need some Botox to relax my face by mid morning. So, just in case you see me in the next few weeks be prepared. I have not had a stroke-yet. I have just turned loose of my first born child and my heart will take a while to mend.

Memories

I have recently seen big changes in my Sweet G. He and I are really enjoying our time at home and are hinting to J that we would love to stay at home on a permanent basis and begin homeschooling again. There are definately benefits to G being in traditional school setting but there are also great benefits to him being at home. At home we can arrange our instructional time around bathroom breaks, can fit in some much needed time in the stander, and he gets one on one instruction for everything.

He really has become enthusiastic about learning this week. He has insisted that we do our schoolwork every day this week. We have spent time on the internet and found some cool sites for guided reading. He is a sight reader and his teachers have been very concerned about his progress. I can't say that I haven't been also. He has been able to read individual words when presented to him but when they are used in a sentence he has trouble distinguishing the individual words. This week he has really blown me away. We have been visiting one website in particular and he has been reading a story with many chapters. There are words he doesn't know but when I tell him once or twice what the word is he usually remembers it. He reads at a good even rate and reads with expression. I have been very impressed by his progress and his desire.

He was sitting in my lap reading from the computer one morning and I had an opportunity to really look at him. He has lost almost all of the little boy look. He is a big, grown up, 7 year old. We have let his "Who Hair" grow until it is no longer Who Hair. It is the most beautiful shade of brown and is so soft and silky. He has all four of his front permanent teeth which really give him the big boy look. His nose is sprinkled with wonderful little freckles of all sizes and shapes and he has beautiful eyes that to my complete satisfaction once again dance at the sight of me. I love being that little boy's MommaWife. There is nothing like the love of a mother and her son. Having them look into my eyes with total adoration, trust, and contentment has been the most wonderful thing I will ever experience in life. It is at those times that I have felt the most loved, needed, and accepted.

How much I long to be able to recapture just one day from the past with each of my boys. Would I choose a day when as a baby T would slip his tiny hand into my shirt and hold onto my bra strap to ensure he would wake up when I tried to lay him in his bed? Or would I choose a spring day when T was two or three and saying and doing so many funny things? A day of leisurely reading and spending time in the swing or a night laying on the deck watching a meteor shower? The day of their first smiles, first belly laughs, first steps?Honestly I would not be able to choose which day to relive and one day would never be enough. That is why God gives us memories and why I choose to write this blog. I can't go back to relive one moment of the past but I have all these stories to read and remember my boys and the times when I was the center of their world.

Memories

I have recently seen big changes in my Sweet G. He and I are really enjoying our time at home and are hinting to J that we would love to stay at home on a permanent basis and begin homeschooling again. There are definately benefits to G being in traditional school setting but there are also great benefits to him being at home. At home we can arrange our instructional time around bathroom breaks, can fit in some much needed time in the stander, and he gets one on one instruction for everything.

He really has become enthusiastic about learning this week. He has insisted that we do our schoolwork every day this week. We have spent time on the internet and found some cool sites for guided reading. He is a sight reader and his teachers have been very concerned about his progress. I can't say that I haven't been also. He has been able to read individual words when presented to him but when they are used in a sentence he has trouble distinguishing the individual words. This week he has really blown me away. We have been visiting one website in particular and he has been reading a story with many chapters. There are words he doesn't know but when I tell him once or twice what the word is he usually remembers it. He reads at a good even rate and reads with expression. I have been very impressed by his progress and his desire.

He was sitting in my lap reading from the computer one morning and I had an opportunity to really look at him. He has lost almost all of the little boy look. He is a big, grown up, 7 year old. We have let his "Who Hair" grow until it is no longer Who Hair. It is the most beautiful shade of brown and is so soft and silky. He has all four of his front permanent teeth which really give him the big boy look. His nose is sprinkled with wonderful little freckles of all sizes and shapes and he has beautiful eyes that to my complete satisfaction once again dance at the sight of me. I love being that little boy's MommaWife. There is nothing like the love of a mother and her son. Having them look into my eyes with total adoration, trust, and contentment has been the most wonderful thing I will ever experience in life. It is at those times that I have felt the most loved, needed, and accepted.

How much I long to be able to recapture just one day from the past with each of my boys. Would I choose a day when as a baby T would slip his tiny hand into my shirt and hold onto my bra strap to ensure he would wake up when I tried to lay him in his bed? Or would I choose a spring day when T was two or three and saying and doing so many funny things? A day of leisurely reading and spending time in the swing or a night laying on the deck watching a meteor shower? The day of their first smiles, first belly laughs, first steps?Honestly I would not be able to choose which day to relive and one day would never be enough. That is why God gives us memories and why I choose to write this blog. I can't go back to relive one moment of the past but I have all these stories to read and remember my boys and the times when I was the center of their world.

The Queen of Hearts

I will be the first to admit that G's sudden and overwhelming affection for his teacher over the past few months hurt my feelings and quite frankly broke my heart. I was overjoyed when the last day of school came and went so that I could get started having fun with my little boy without having to share him with anyone else. (I know, I am a jealous woman when it comes to the men I love.) I have really been quite busy and have not been giving my total attention to G this last week. I honestly have been trying to get  my house in some sort of order and have been preoccupied with a mini kitchen remodel.

Tonight I gave G his bath (which is rare). Bathtime is one thing I usually relinquish to the Daddy but a couple of nights ago we went to bed with a leak in our ceiling that was coming from the air conditioner return. Poor J has been in the attic off and on all day trying to find and fix the problem on top of trying to finish my cabinet makeover and the necessary repairs in the kitchen.

I have been busy with other projects. I made a cotton shower curtain for our bathroom this past week and gave our bathroom a thourough cleaning tonight so that I could enjoy the new look even better with everything all neat and tidy. I cleaned the shower and tub and called G to come in and take his bath. After about 15 minutes he finally made it into the master bedroom. By that time I had his tub filled and waiting on him. We had some sweet bath time complete with shaving our beards. (Daddy doesn't usually let G play in the bathtub.) After drying G off he asked me to rub lotion on him. This is something we used to do to warm and stretch his muscles but have honestly been neglecting. He asked for me to massage his back first. He then flipped over for me to rub his chest and I added in those tight arms and gave them good stretches. We eventually covered his entire body ending with his feet. He really loves to be massaged but hey, who doesn't? After all my love and attention he looked up at me with his angelic face and said, "Mommy aren't you glad you won your heart back?" My heart melted at those words. I had said that I was going to win his heart back this summer when I had him all to myself. I am not sure that I even said it to him but anyway he heard me. He really meant that I had won his heart back but said it in that sweet innocent little boy language. Oh, how I love my boys.

T left yesterday for a trip to Puerto Rico with his girlfriend's family. I cried of course because I feel like he is all grown up and I have lost his heart. But isn't God so good. He knew exactly how I felt and gave me the gift of hearing G proclaim his love for me tonight right when I needed it the most. His timing is not my timing but His timing is perfect. To top it all off my sweet T also has sent several texts and made one phone call home today. I am truly a blessed mother, wife, and child of God. = )

The Queen of Hearts

I will be the first to admit that G's sudden and overwhelming affection for his teacher over the past few months hurt my feelings and quite frankly broke my heart. I was overjoyed when the last day of school came and went so that I could get started having fun with my little boy without having to share him with anyone else. (I know, I am a jealous woman when it comes to the men I love.) I have really been quite busy and have not been giving my total attention to G this last week. I honestly have been trying to get  my house in some sort of order and have been preoccupied with a mini kitchen remodel.

Tonight I gave G his bath (which is rare). Bathtime is one thing I usually relinquish to the Daddy but a couple of nights ago we went to bed with a leak in our ceiling that was coming from the air conditioner return. Poor J has been in the attic off and on all day trying to find and fix the problem on top of trying to finish my cabinet makeover and the necessary repairs in the kitchen.

I have been busy with other projects. I made a cotton shower curtain for our bathroom this past week and gave our bathroom a thourough cleaning tonight so that I could enjoy the new look even better with everything all neat and tidy. I cleaned the shower and tub and called G to come in and take his bath. After about 15 minutes he finally made it into the master bedroom. By that time I had his tub filled and waiting on him. We had some sweet bath time complete with shaving our beards. (Daddy doesn't usually let G play in the bathtub.) After drying G off he asked me to rub lotion on him. This is something we used to do to warm and stretch his muscles but have honestly been neglecting. He asked for me to massage his back first. He then flipped over for me to rub his chest and I added in those tight arms and gave them good stretches. We eventually covered his entire body ending with his feet. He really loves to be massaged but hey, who doesn't? After all my love and attention he looked up at me with his angelic face and said, "Mommy aren't you glad you won your heart back?" My heart melted at those words. I had said that I was going to win his heart back this summer when I had him all to myself. I am not sure that I even said it to him but anyway he heard me. He really meant that I had won his heart back but said it in that sweet innocent little boy language. Oh, how I love my boys.

T left yesterday for a trip to Puerto Rico with his girlfriend's family. I cried of course because I feel like he is all grown up and I have lost his heart. But isn't God so good. He knew exactly how I felt and gave me the gift of hearing G proclaim his love for me tonight right when I needed it the most. His timing is not my timing but His timing is perfect. To top it all off my sweet T also has sent several texts and made one phone call home today. I am truly a blessed mother, wife, and child of God. = )

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.

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.

The Cat Years

A few years ago when my son began his journey into the teen years I went to his pediatrician on the verge of tears. I explained the emotional roller coaster that my son seemed to be riding and the confusion that it was causing me. Since I have never been an adolescent boy (obviously) I didn't know how puberty affected young boys. When I asked my husband about his experiences in this area his memory of those days failed him as usual.

Dr. B smiled when I discribed the ups and downs my son was experiencing and assured me that it is perfectly normal for this to occur. "But I thought only girls went through the crazy, irrational, emotional ups and downs," I cried. Again Dr. B smiled and said wait here I have something to give you. He returned minutes later and this is what he gave me:

The Cat Years

From San Francisco Chronicle

Adair Lara

I just realized that while children are dogs--loyal and affectionate--teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

Then, around age 13, your adorable little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging your footsteps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry--then it pauses to sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.

You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.

Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter. The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and affection too. Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you." Then you will realize your cat is a dog again.

While typing this article I just realized that as my first cat is turning back into a dog my youngest dog will be turning into a cat. Oh, no!! I am not sure I can do this again.

The Cat Years

A few years ago when my son began his journey into the teen years I went to his pediatrician on the verge of tears. I explained the emotional roller coaster that my son seemed to be riding and the confusion that it was causing me. Since I have never been an adolescent boy (obviously) I didn't know how puberty affected young boys. When I asked my husband about his experiences in this area his memory of those days failed him as usual.

Dr. B smiled when I discribed the ups and downs my son was experiencing and assured me that it is perfectly normal for this to occur. "But I thought only girls went through the crazy, irrational, emotional ups and downs," I cried. Again Dr. B smiled and said wait here I have something to give you. He returned minutes later and this is what he gave me:

The Cat Years

From San Francisco Chronicle

Adair Lara

I just realized that while children are dogs--loyal and affectionate--teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

Then, around age 13, your adorable little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging your footsteps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry--then it pauses to sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.

You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.

Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter. The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and affection too. Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you." Then you will realize your cat is a dog again.

While typing this article I just realized that as my first cat is turning back into a dog my youngest dog will be turning into a cat. Oh, no!! I am not sure I can do this again.