Worst. Date. Ever.

So, this time of year reminds me of a funny memory of my worst date ever. I mean, not the kind where you look back and think, "Oh, that was chaos! Whew, we sure laughed about that!" I'm talking the kind where you look back and say, "What was wrong with my brain that I ever agreed to go on that date in the first place. I shoulda known better."

So, let's travel back in time... to Christmas break 1993... I was in college, but home for the Christmas Holidays. My family lived in St. Louis, about 2 hours away from my Alma Mater. I had gotten some interest from a boy... let's call him Andy. Now, Andy was a nice enough guy, but he was a bit lacking in social graces. I always attributed that to the fact that he'd probably not been on too many dates. He was pretty funny, but as soon as anything beyond friendship entered the picture, he kinda turned into a "buh, buh-buh, buh" fumbling adolescent. Some of his personal habits didn't help his cause: Andy had braces, and he would have the tendency to slide his tongue along his top teeth and make a slurping sound. Maybe he was sucking out the food bits from the crevices of his mouth apparatus? I don't know. All I know is that the sound repulsed me. As did the thought of kissing the mouth with all the food bits. BUT I've always been a big believer in "If I can look past their imperfections, maybe they will also look past mine."

The main problem that Andy had, though, was entirely not his fault: he was a poor replacement for the guy I really wanted to date. His fraternity brother actually. Let's call his fraternity brother Chip. See, Chip looked similar to Andy (sans braces) but was quiet, brooding, and mysterious. He was funny, but in a dry humor type of way. He'd only hint that he liked you, he'd never actually admit it. We'd gone out a couple of times, till I was sick of his "maybe-I-like-you-maybe-I-don't" game and he was sick of me calling him with "so, where is this going? Are we dating? Are we not?" Anyway, for some reason I thought dating Andy would make Chip jealous. Ummm, I think Chip didn't even notice.

So, onto the horrible date story. Really, it's quite amazing. So, it's Christmas Break 1993. Andy tells me, "Hey, I got some tickets to the basketball game at Our College. Do you want to go?" I said sure, we could go. I knew he didn't have a car, so I asked if he wanted me to drive, and he said, "Uh, yeah. That would probably be best." So I filled the tank up and picked him up. At which time he tells me, "Now we just have to swing by Bill's house on the way." I'm like, "WHAT???" So Andy tells me that he has been offered the tickets but doesn't actually have them in his possession. Uh, okay... So, after that pit stop, we head off to College Town and look for a spot to park at the Athletic Center. We drive by a chain-link fence with maintenance equipment behind it. There is a clear space with a sign that read, "NO PARKING." Of course, Andy tells me, "Oh it's fine to park there. They only need that space open during the daytime when they use that equipment. Just park here. It'll be fine."

At the game my good friend Candace comes over to join us at our seats. And, at the end of the first quarter, imagine my surprise when an announcement comes over the loudspeaker... "Attention Fans. If you have a white Ford Probe, with license plate... XXX 123... please move your car immediately." I look up to see my license plate and car description on the jumbo tron.

I. am. mortified. . . . and pissed off.

I am steaming. "Andy, you said it would be fine to park there! Let's go move the car."
Andy: "Uh, well, if I go, I'll miss part of the game. Do you really need me to move the car? Can't you do it yourself? Or, take Candace with you." I was really beginning to get a clear picture of this guy's character at this point, so I just went to move the car with Candace.

After the game, we went to a great College Town restaurant, where Andy decides to order an appetizer that costs $4.95. I also ordered an appetizer, I think it cost about the same. When the bill came, guess how much money Andy had brought with him? Yep, exactly $5. No extra money for tax, or tip, or to pay for my meal (he had asked ME on the date after all), or even to offer me some money to pay for gas.

At this point, I was SERIOUSLY wondering where the breakdown in social graces occurred with him. I mean, it's one thing to be a social goof-up. It's entirely another to be a social moron. This guy was past social moron. He was on his way to social pariah.

So, after I pay the remainder of the bill, plus tip, we drive home. I didn't say much, except maybe, "Do you really have to make that noise with your braces? It's pretty gross." After that, he called a few times but I let them go to the answering machine. I mean, I really wanted a date but a girl's gotta draw the line somewhere.

Later, people often asked me, "Tell me again, why did you date Andy?" And I would just hang my head and respond, "I still don't really know what I was thinking."

Exhausting Thanks

"I am thankful for family and friends. I am thankful for my blessings. I am thankful for..."

I feel like I may be the only one who is so exhausted from the self-examination that seems requisite for this holiday. I recognize FULLY how blessed I am. At the risk of becoming one of the masses, listing out my blessings, I will go ahead and share what I consider the blessings that are closest to my heart:
1. I am married to a wonderful guy. He's not perfect but, after talking to many friends and reading many blogs, I realize that he is better than a lot of the ones out there.
2. We carry no debt except for our house. We are blessed to have retirement savings in the bank. I am so fortunate that my spouse and I have matching expectations and goals when it comes to finances. I count myself lucky that he supports me and encourages me to stay home with our children full time, even though it means a lot of sacrifice.
3. I still have both of my parents and both of my parents-in-law. My children still have 4 grandparents and one great-grandparent.
4. Rather than this year being financially hard for us, we have actually been blessed. My husband took a new job that increased his pay (quite a bit) and improved his benefits. Plus, it is a very stable job and does not have a risk of being downsized.

Now, that said, I have to say how hard it was for me to make it through this day. On one hand, I know how blessed I am. On the other bigger more dominant hand, I feel like the Israelites in the desert, knowing I'm protected by God but saying, "Are ya kidding? This is it? Because your provision? It kinda sucks." (As I'm typing, I'm waiting to be struck down dead momentarily). I enjoyed making the Thanksgiving meal, but I could not stop focusing on all the crap going on, especially since last year.
1. We moved hundreds of miles away from family and friends (losing and/or straining many relationships).
2. My faith life is suffering.
3. We used up all our savings (except for IRA's) to buy our house.
4. My husband's car is beginning to really break down and mine isn't far behind.
5. Health for the Texan Family in 2008 - not exactly the best year for us: Lyme disease, miscarriage, migraine headaches(3), stomach flu(6), ear infections, molloscum, root canal, cavities(4), allergies(2), plantar warts(2), bladder infections(2), and dry skin. The numbers in parentheses means the number of people in the family who've had that problem.
6. Linus is still wetting the bed at night.
7. Our furniture is all second-hand, or outdated, or mis-matched.

I know it is just easier to complain and say, "My life sucks" than it is to force yourself to put a smile on your face and say, "Today isn't so bad! Let me see... I have lots of great things in my life!" While it IS true that I have many great things in my life, I wish I were at a place where the great things are what I am constantly reminded of and the bad things are what I have to really think about to recall, instead of the other way around.

Being upbeat? And smiling? And pretending that you LOVE to hold the baby for 50 minutes of every hour? And insisting that doing chores satisfies you? It is all so exhausting. Completely, utterly, exhausting.

Have you ever realized how hard it is to be fun, when having fun is just too much trouble? For example, I could play cards with my kids, but then a fight ensues about the rules and the baby swipes all the cards off the table and ruins the game (or whines until I pick her up and walk around the house with her). Or, we could all take a walk. But then I have to find a coat for each child because they swear they can't locate one for themselves. And I become the shoe AND sock police. And, NO you aren't riding your bike because we are all walking together and we are going to have a nice conversation, DAMNIT. Or, we could do just about any activity in the whole world, except that the counter isn't going to get germ-free by itself. Those dishes aren't going to jump into the dishwasher on their own. The floor isn't going to de-stickify itself. Someone - the someone named "Mommy" - needs to do those chores. And, after the kids go to bed she usually has 5 other chores to do, 3 of which won't get done again. So, no, she can't save all those extra chores up till later.

So, you all maybe were wondering if any Thanksgiving pessimists lived out here on the fringe. I'm not exactly on the fringe of society, but I guess I'm in the minority today.

I'm not weighin in on this one...

What do you think about this report?

I don't think I can just copy the report and put it in here, because maybe that would be plagiarism? But, I will give you the gist of the story:

Now, in Canada, if a person is obese enough to require two seats on an airplane, it is considered a disability and therefore he or she will only be charged for one seat.

Okay, if you want to see the report (it's short, trust me) click on the link above.

My question: at what number does a person's weight officially become a disability? And who makes that decision? So, will this also open the door for people who are really tall? Can they have two seats too? I mean, the length of their legs might make them "functionally disabled by height," right?

What if you were really heavy and needed two seats? Do you feel you should pay for both? Or just one? What if you were bumped from a flight because of a person who needed two seats but had only paid for one?

I guess there are two sides to every story?

Talk amongst yourselves.

Creative Things to do with Poo

Okay, on my list of "Titles I Never Expected to EVER Use", this one comes near the top.

CREATIVE THINGS TO DO WITH POO

What do you like to do with poo? Do you like to eat it? Do you like to smear it on your face? No? Well, you must not be very cultured.

If you have seen the movie The Bucket List, you know what I'm going to talk about next. Kopi Luwak is coffee made from very rare coffee berries. These berries are found on the islands in the Indonesian Archipelago, which are located northwest of Australia. The Kopi Luwak, or Civet Coffee, is made from coffee berries which have been eaten and passed through the system of the Asian Palm Civet. Yep, you guessed it: it's made from berries that have been pooped out of a weasel-sized jungle cat. It is believed that, by passing through the system of the animal, the enzymes in the cat's stomack break down the proteins in the berry which give coffee its bitter taste. The defecated berries are washed and only slightly roasted in order to preserve the berry's complex flavors.Photo courtesy of Google Images

Am I the only one who thinks those look a little bit like granola bars? (shudder)

After purchasing your coffee beans, which by the way, costs $120-$600 per pound, you might be a little bit stressed out. How 'bout getting a facial to relax you?

At Santa Fe's Ten Thousand Waves Spa, you can treat yourself to a Nightingale Cleansing mask, which includes powder from the "sanitized droppings" of these feathered friends. $115 for 55 minutes of treatment using only the finest nightingale poop available.

Photo courtesy of Google Images

My biggest question is this: Who's in charge of collecting all this poo? And how much do they get paid? Whatever the answer is, I would bet that it's not enough.

Finding Peace

Time heals all wounds. I guess that's how the saying goes. It is true, time is helping me with my miscarriage. It has only been a day since I found out, but it's been more than a week since I really suspected something. I began to have spotting last week, then the doctor did not find a heartbeat on the doppler at his office, then the ultrasound Friday confirmed it.

I am so blessed to have 4 amazing wonderful children. I am embarrassed to admit that it took something like losing an unborn child to really appreciate the healthy children I have been given.


I may also count among my blessings, friends who care for me more than I realize. I have had an outpouring of support from all my online blogging friends. But, what I didn't realize I needed was a real-life person who smiled at me and gave me a hug. Of course, my husband did this, but he was sharing in my grief. We were both so sad and both trying to support one another. But, last night, as my husband was at work, good friends Maggie and Chris came by with two make-and-take pizzas and a potted flower for me. Just as a surprise. Just to be supportive. Of course I began to cry, and thanked them profusely. I had forgotten how alone I felt here in Texas, being hundreds of miles away from our families, and still being in the process of making new friends. Maggie and Chris are the organizers of a moms group I belong to but I rarely have time to attend functions. I knew how sweet and caring they were, but I really felt... well, the only word is LOVED... when they showed up to be there for me. I didn't have to ask, they just were there. Maggie said, "We brought this over so that you don't have to think about doing for others tonight. Just keep it easy and give yourself some time."

So, I am allowing myself to feel whatever I'm feeling. One really hard thing for me, though, is helping the kids understand what happened. I told them last night about the miscarriage. Here is what I said:
"Well, kids, I had a doctor's appointment today and I have some bad news. The baby that was in my tummy? Well, it stopped growing, and now we're not going to have the baby. It didn't live. Now, don't worry, because it didn't hurt for me or the baby. Sometimes, these things just happen and it's okay to be sad. But I'm going to be okay and now the baby is up in heaven."
Kids: "Why did the baby stop growing? What happened to it?"
Me: "I don't know why. Maybe it was really sick. But whatever the reason is, there's nothing anyone did to make it happen. It just happened. And now the baby is gone."
I didn't really want to get into the mechanics of a miscarriage. I just told them, "It's not there anymore" so that I didn't have to describe it all. Actually, Peppermint Patty isn't home this weekend because she went on her first overnight camping trip. So I'll have to tell her on Sunday - that's going to be really difficult. She will go to pieces, I'm sure. The boys were both sad, and Linus cried a little bit. I just reassured him that it's okay to be sad. I didn't offer any comforting words, I just held him while he cried. That's what I wanted when I found out about the baby. No platitudes, no "This is God's plan." Just a hug and some human contact.

So, finding peace is going to be an ongoing process, I'm sure. But I don't want you to think that I'm going to let it invade my every thought. I am going to deal with it by going on with life as usual, and just allowing myself some freedom with my emotions when I need it. Hopefully I won't need that freedom on a continual basis, but rather just from time to time when something crosses my mind that reminds me of this pregnancy. I want to heal myself by enjoying the blessings I have been given.

Miscarriage (Edited)

The title says it. I was pregnant and now I'm not. No heartbeat at 12 weeks. I don't really know what to feel right now. I'm sad. I feel guilty. I feel embarrassed. I have a flood of emotions that I could never have understood before today, but now I am getting a crash course.

Please understand if I am off the radar for a little while. I don't know... maybe writing may make me feel better. Maybe I won't even want to face all the comments. I am still learning how to feel about this.

EDITED: I have received a call from my doctor, and I have a blighted ovum. Apparently the pregnancy was only 5-6 weeks along. I had my first appointment at 7 weeks, and the doctor did not use a doppler for the heartbeat as he said it would probably be too hard to hear. My regular appointment was yesterday. So, I guess, the baby did not actually die or quit growing, but rather never started growing to begin with.

I am realizing that I have never actually grieved the loss of anyone important to me. I mean, really important. I lost a baby niece when I was 17, but I was way too immature to glean anything from that experience. And, I lost my grandparents when I was 17 and 18, and then my last grandmother at 26. But, I was not very close with them either. I am finding that the only thing I want people to say is, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" My mom said, "Well, I guess everything happens for a reason. God has a plan." Um, that isn't helpful.

Well, I just wanted to fill you in on what's going on. Thanks for all your support. It really does mean a lot, more than I can say.

More Than A Carpenter

Okay, if your spouse were, say, a chef: do you think you would eat Hamburger Helper and dine out at McDonalds? Let's say that your spouse were, for example, a law-enforcement officer. Do you think you'd feel okay about breaking the law on a regular basis? Or what if your spouse were a carpenter? Would it be fair to say that you would probably live in a structurally VERY SAFE house?

Here's my point: Usually when we or our spouses have a career, especially one that we care very deeply about, it overlaps into our personal lives. It affects the way we live our lives. It affects our decisions and the path we follow.

My husband is a Pastor. Needless to say, our religious life is so very important to us. We truly value our rich Lutheran heritage. Now, without going into a full-on rant, I will try to explain why I am struggling right now so much.

My husband and I want the very best religious LUTHERAN education for our children and church life for our family. As a pastor, he really won't settle for anything less than top-notch. And, I feel, if there's one area of life you shouldn't compromise on, it's your faith life. Right now, our church and our kids' school are, well, failing. We want to go to church and feel like it is a Lutheran church, not just some generic Christian church. We want our kids to have a Lutheran education, not just some generic Christian education. I know, many people lump all protestants together and figure we're all pretty much the same. Not at all. As a matter of fact, I would say that the LCMS (our church body) is closer to Catholicism than it is to most Protestant groups. Think of it this way: If you sent your kid to a Catholic school, wouldn't you expect them to learn the rosary? And the Holy days? And the Hail Mary prayer? So, why does my childrens' school think it's okay to skimp on the Lutheran Catechism? And, if you were to go to Catholic Mass, wouldn't you expect to see the Catholic ritual? So, why at my Lutheran church do we have personal testimonies at the pulpit and why do we have the pastor using the sermon to promote various church programs (stewardship, small group ministry, sunday school, etc) instead of explaining the Scripture readings and pointing us to Christ?

I am struggling. If you have a deep faith life, you will probably understand. If you love something very very deeply, imagine a struggle with that and you will definitely be able to relate. Maybe you love your child and fight to make sure she has the best education available for her (Yes, I'm talking about you, Heather!) Maybe you're an environmentalist and you want to make sure the earth and its natural resources are there for your children and grandchildren. Whatever your passion leads you, that is where your energy will go also.

I am at a crossroads because we live logistically too far away from any other Lutheran schools, even if they were more "Lutheran" and we don't know if they are or not. We have discussed just taking the kids out of the school they are presently in, and just joining a conservative church as near as we can find one, and putting the kids in some type of non-parochial school and taking the religious education aspect upon ourselves 100%. This isn't the worst option, especially if at their present school they are receiving religious instruction that is actually counter-Lutheran. However, we just took them away from their friends 6 months ago to move here. They've finally started to adjust and make new friends. I can't imagine taking them away from their new friends too. I don't know what their threshold of tolerance is for being forced to change schools and find new friendships.

I am stuck. I want what's best for my children but I don't want them to suffer. I believe I know what they need but I'm not sure I can deliver it. I am frustrated that one of the reasons we even decided to move here was that we believed this school and church would be a good place for our family and our kids. We were so wrong.

I feel like this is a real test of my faith. We believe we are to serve God first, and love no other above Him. If I truly love God more than any other, even more than my own children, then I feel I should try to find the best faith education for my children, whatever that means. But I'm torn because as a mother I want to protect my children from being taken away from their only friendships here in Texas, the same way they were taken away from their friends 6 months ago.

I'm so tired of going round and round in my head about this. I can't think about it anymore. By the way, the title of this post is a reference to the story about Jesus "More Than A Carpenter" by Josh McDowell. I don't mean to imply that my husband is, in some way, more than a carpenter. It's just a play on words.

quick note for DFW viewers

Hey bloggies. Just a quick note. I got interviewed last week for a spot that will play tonight on CBS 11 at 10:00pm. That's what they told me anyway. The interview was for a piece about families eating out and how healthy/unhealthy restaurant food is (I think). So, if you are watching tonight you might see me! I'm the one with no makeup, messy hair, and a baby on my hip... you know, the standard mom uniform.

Pimp my Yams

Yo Yo Yo, all you giblet-lovin fools out there in Bloggy-Land,

ARE YOU READY TO START KICKIN' IT FOR T-DAY?

Okay, Tattooed Minivan Mom is having a Thanksgiving Recipe Exchange so I decided to pipe in.

Now, Here's the 411 on the Texan Household Thanksgiving: We do it small. Usually I just roast a boneless turkey breast. I know, pathetic, right? But it's just me and Texan Papa and the 4 Peanuts. Well, baby Peanut (aka Sally) doesn't eat much, and for that matter neither do the other Peanuts. But they INHALE the mashed potatoes. So, we do the usual carb-laden meal: stuffing, mashed potatoes, rolls, and the other "healthy" option too: corn or green beans (I gave up long ago doing the GB Casserole - I love it but got many dirty looks from the Peanut gallery - like "why have you mutilated my precious plain green beans into this creamy, soupy, mess? And what are those brown crunchy things on top? For the Love Of ALL THINGS GOOD AND HOLY, just give me my PLAIN GREEN BEANS or I will MELT DOWN RIGHT HERE AT THE TABLE!!!")

We have long since abandoned getting together with family. Some might say, "Aww, that's really sad." Now, next Thursday, when you are at your relatives' house, wishing the meal would just be ready already, and your kids are like 2 hours overdue for a nap, and you're sweating bullets every time your toddler gets near your hostess' priceless crap tchotchkes, you'll be saying to yourself, "Man I wish I was at my own house like Texan Mama is in hers." Yeah, no relatives to entertain. No long road trip to endure. No hurrying up at one house so we can go gorge ourselves at another house 2 hours later. Living far, far away from any relatives really has its advantages.

Anyhoo, back to the recipe exchange. Now, I hate sweet potatoes. I think they look like a big orange turd. I think they smell disgusting and look disgusting. So, guess what I'm going to share with you? YES, A RECIPE FOR SWEET POTATOES. Enjoy. I cannot claim credit for this recipe. It came from the cookbook "Saint Louis Days, Saint Louis Nights" published by the Junior League of St. Louis. I have made this recipe many times to rave reviews (as I have with many recipes from this cookbook - I highly recommend it), although I have never actually tasted it. I've been told that it's a nice new twist for Sweet Potatoes, and it's not overly sweet like the traditional dishes which have marshmallows in them.

Sweet Potato Souffle with Pineapple and Coconut

(oh, btw: I use crushed Pecans in place of the coconut. Even though I hate sweet potatoes, I hate coconut even more.)

8 medium sweet potatoes
1/2 cup (1 stick) margarine
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 well-beaten eggs
1 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup drained, crushed pineapple
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup coconut (remember, I sub pecans for this, but it's your call)

• Wash sweet potatoes and place in a jellyroll pan. Cover with foil.


• Bake at 400 degrees for 45 to 60 minutes until fork completely penetrates potato.


• Cool, peel, and put potatoes in a large mixing bowl. (VERY large - there's going to be a lot!)


• Mash potatoes until smooth. Stir in margarine and sugars.


• Add the eggs, and baking powder, pineapple, and salt. Mix well.


• Transfer ingredients into a well-greased 2-quart casserole dish.


• Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes.


• Remove from the oven and cover the souffle with coconut pecans. (I put them in a nice little border around the outside of the pan, then add a few whole pecans at the center.)


• Bake an additional 10 minutes (or until light brown).

Other notes: 8 "medium" sweet potatoes - really, all sweet potatoes are pretty big. My suggestion is to first cook the potatoes and mash them, then look at how much will fit into a 2-quart casserole. If you have too much, don't use the extra potatoes b/c it will make too much and also the proportions of the other ingredients won't be right. ALSO, I have successfully made this dish with butternut squash puree - but that's an extra step where you have to add brown sugar to it too. If you're really interested in this just email me and I can give you the extra ingredients.

Okay, go. Cook. Sweat. Gorge. Bloat. And, Enjoy.

Awards, and something Pathetic

Woo-Hoo! I don't suck. I actually got a couple of awards recently. Here's what I got wrapped up in a pretty shiny comment in my gmail inbox:

I got this little gem from Christine over at Housewife Word of Mouth. Thanks girlfriend! The criteria is as follows:
A. Display a cheerful attitude.
B. Love one another.
C. Make mistakes.
D. Learn from others.
E. Be a positive contributor to the blog world.
F. Love life.
G. Love kids.

The Rules:

1. Must link it back to the creator.
2. Post the rules.
3. Choose 5 people to give it to.
4. Recipients must fill the characteristics above.
5. Create a post to share this.
6. You must thank the winner.

Okey dokey, I am going to break the rules a tiny bit and just pick 3 recipients:
Bridgett at South City Musings (It's a St. Louis thang!), Catwoman at Canadian Thoughts in Texas, and Loralee at Loralees Looney Tunes. So many wonderful bloggers, but I know how hard it is to keep passing the award things around. TOTALLY deserving, these ladies are, but if you decide to drop the chain-mail with me I understand.

Ooh, and I got another one a few weeks back and just now have gotten around to showing it off:

This one came from Jaden Paige at The Life and Times of Bendy Ruggles.

Rules if you choose to participate

1. Put the award up on your blog
2. Add a link to the person who awarded it to you
3. Nominate at least seven other blogs
4. Add links to these blogs on your blog
5. Leave a message for your nominee on their blog

Okay, I don't know what the qualifications are, but if it is "For the coolest blog I ever know" then I better not give it to someone who is a grammar nit-picker. I think Katy over at katydidnot has the "coolest blog I ever know" and I don't think she'd mind an imperfect imperative or dangling participle or whatever.

Okay, so thanks my bloggy friends.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention the pathetic part: I posted yesterday about my heroes and asked readers to post about their own. I thought, "Woo, free links up to other readers. This will be cool... sharing the linky love, getting to know other bloggers better. I'd better not plan to post on Tuesday so I can follow up on all the hero stories I'll get."

Um, not so much.

The total of linkies: zilch. Okay, that's fine. I guess you all are heartless selfish robots who don't have a sincere bone in your bodies. *sniff sniff* I guess you all just sit at your computers, tap-tap-tapping away and never thinking about all - *sniff sniff* - the people who made you who you are today. *sniff sniff*

Just kidding. But maybe next time I will skip the linky love and just blabber on about something else, like who knew that gloves came in numerical sizes? And, who invented the lid with the "button" on the top to seal in the freshness? Hmm. talk amongst yourselves.

The Wind Beneath my Wings

I know, cheesy title. So sue me.

On Wednesday my kids had a special celebration, called "Hotcakes with Heroes". Basically, it was a pancake breakfast for students and their dads. I don't know how many dads each student had - dads, stepdads, foster dads, grandpas, whatever. But, the title of the day gave me pause to think about who my heroes have been throughout my life.

When I was a little girl, my hero was my godmother. She was the epitome of beauty. She had a gentle quietness that was so distinguished in my eyes. She always spoke kind words and she never raised her voice. Her make-up and hair were never over-done, but she always looked neat and put-together. She was like Miss America to me. Where my mother was the one who I loved and depended on, my mother was also the one who ripped off my bandaids, scrubbed out the toilets, and pulled a whole chicken limb from limb for our dinner. When I grew up, I wanted to be just like my godmother.

When I was a teenager, my hero was my English and French teacher. I never admitted to anyone that I liked her because she was pretty much the least favorite teacher for every one of my friends. I had her freshman year for English AND French, Sophomore year for French, and Junior year for English. When I got her Junior year, many of my friends groaned and said, "Man, I can't believe you have her again! That sucks." Secretly, I didn't mind. I liked her because, although she wasn't warm and fuzzy, she saw through my act and saw the real me. She ignored my attempts to be popular and instead focused on my attempts to be a writer. And when I had a period of rebellion Freshman year, she didn't take me aside and pat me on the back or pump her fist in the air with a "YOU CAN DO IT" cheer. Instead, she held me to the same expectations she always had - knowing I was capable of the work and not accepting anything less. She truly earned my respect over many years of a developing relationship. In later years of English class, I opened up to her in our class journals about so many personal struggles - boys, friends, conflicts at home, teenager behavior, etc. I trusted her as I opened up with many personal feelings. And, in turn, she trusted me as she shared her private & personal feelings with me. I thought that took a lot of courage for someone to open themselves up like that, especially to a teenager. She helped me learn how to work for what I want, not make excuses, and especially to get to know people because they might surprise you. She is one of the main reasons I became a teacher.

As I grew older, into college and young adulthood, my heroes were my friends. I had so many wonderful friends that represented different facets of what I aspired to be. I had one friend who was very beautiful, so I asked her for make-up and hair styling tips. On the other hand, I also had one friend who was really natural and also a true beauty, so I watched her beauty regime to keep me in balance with my personal grooming. I had one friend who was very smart so we would hang out and do homework together and I always asked her about studying for tests, test-prep strategies, best places on campus to study, etc. I had another friend who shared my major, so we'd work on projects together, talk about our future jobs, go to lectures together, and compare notes on classes we'd both taken. She was a great ruler for me to measure myself against. I had another friend who was ALWAYS up for a party. If I ever wanted to go out to the bars or to a frat house, she was ready to go. She knew a ton of people and seemed to be so comfortable blending right in to the crowd wherever we went. Being with her really gave my confidence a boost and we always had a ton of fun.

Now that I am a wife and mother, my hero, FINALLY, is truly my mom. Everything I say about her will sound like she's just a typical mom, probably no different from thousands out there. My mom stayed home with us my whole life. She had hobbies, like bowling and golfing, sewing and singing in the choir. She took us to church every Sunday. She never ordered us pizzas from a delivery place or gave us TV dinners; every evening meal was served at our family table, with everyone sitting together, usually something she had made from scratch. When I was growing up, my dad worked very long hours and did some very stressful things at work. Consequently, he took a lot of that out on my mom emotionally and they fought a lot. Later, I would see that time as just normal marriage tension. No violence, no divorce. Just two people, frustrated, but committed to staying married. My mom was rarely my playmate, but she always found things for me to do to keep busy. I guess, by not constantly entertaining me she helped me build a creative imagination. And now, as I look at my mom through the eyes of myself as a mother, I see all that she did for me without losing herself. I see a woman who enjoyed being a mother but did not sacrifice being a wife, a friend, or herself in order to do that. She is my example. She is my aspiration. She is my sounding board, my friend, and at times the only person I will accept constructive criticism from. She's my hero. I just regret that it took me 36 years to realize it.

Now, do you have a hero? Maybe you have already written a post about it, or maybe you'll write one now. Use Mr. Linky for the direct URL to your blog post about your hero.

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebs - Collage - Morph

Out of the Mouths of Babes, part 2

Back on Monday November 3, on the way to school, my 7-year-old Charlie Brown tells me, "Mom I heard that if Barack Obama gets President, he will make there be no more taxes and everything will be free."

Texan Mama: No, things won't be free. That's not what he is going to do with taxes.

Charlie Brown: Well, don't you want your stuff to be free?

TM: Yes, but that's not his plan. His plan is to lower taxes. He's a good man, and so is John McCain. They are both very concerned about doing what is right for the American People. They both love America and want to do a good job. They just have different thoughts about how the decisions should be made for America.

CB: So, does John McCain NOT want us to have free stuff?

TM: Here's how the two men are different when it comes to taxes. Now, Linus, you get allowance, right?

CB: Yes.

TM: And you have to give 10% to the offering plate and 10% to your savings bank, right?

CB: Yes, mom.

TM: Well, how about if I decide, for the next 4 years, to give you more allowance?

CB: WOO-HOO!!! YES YES YES!!!

TM: Oh, but you are going to have to give MORE than 10% in offering and MORE than 10% to savings.

CB: No, I don't like that.

TM: Okay, how about if I keep the giving amount to 10% for offering and 10% for savings, but you aren't going to get any extra allowance for the next 4 years.

CB: No, I don't like that either.

TM: See, that's how it works. Sometimes one idea has good parts and bad parts. And the other idea has good parts and bad parts too. You just have to pick the idea that YOU most agree with. That's why voting is so great. WE get to decide the decision we want. Not the grown-ups who run the country, but US. (I neglected to tell him that some decisions are out of our control. Baby steps, ya know.)

They all seemed to understand this explanation. Now, I know that my 7-year-old version of the tax plans aren't a perfect explanation for both Obama's and McCain's platforms. But it came pretty close, and they understood it, and that's what I was aiming for.

And, weeks back, when Peppermint Patty was asking what the differences were between Barack Obama and John McCain, I decided to just pick one point and share it: Obama is openly a believer in evolution, and John McCain believes the Creation theory. "We are Christians, and we believe the bible to be entirely true. In other words, God created the world in 6 days and on the 7th day He rested. John McCain believes that too. But Barack Obama believes in evolution. Evolutionists believe that people weren't created by God. They believe that we only became people over a time of millions of years..."

Peppermint Patty: "But Mom, the world isn't that old."

TM: "yes, I know honey, but that's what Obama believes. Anyway, evolutionists believe that we began as teeny tiny organisms, like tiny dots in the water. Over time, those dots grew bigger, into things like bugs, then fish, then animals that came onto the land, and much later they eventually became humans."

PP: "That's really what he thinks?"

TM: "Well, that's what evolutionists believe, and he claims to believe evolution. So, I guess he's saying that yeah, that's what he thinks."

So now, Peppermint Patty has been going around to all her friends at school for the last 3 weeks telling them that her mom told her all about Barack Obama and how he thinks we evolved from bugs.

Ummm.......

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Friends, sorry I have been "off the radar" for a little while. I've had some stuff going on around home... and trying to re-prioritize... and now after my SITS day I feel lots of pressure to be funny and witty too! I can no longer just publish a "blah" post, I have to do better! my creative juices are not exactly flowing right now. So, here's what I got:

If you are a mommy, you know all too well about going to the bathroom while leaving the door open for toddlers. If they lose sight of you, they walk around the house screaming and wailing, "MOMMY! Where are YOUUUUUUUU?"

So, during one of those bathroom trips, have you ever been sitting there when your very mature 2-year-old walks in and looks at you, and says, "Mommy are you sad?" to which you respond, "No, honey." Only then she says, in a very concerned tone, "Mommy, are you hurt?" and you respond, "No, I'm not hurt." And then, with a knowing nod, does she say, "Mommy, are you pushing?" to which you can only reply "Yes, honey."

No, that never happened to me either.

Where can I get one?

Ahh, the elections are over. The air is crisp and the leaves are beginning to turn colors - yes, even in Texas. Halloween has passed and the candy supply is dwindling. The days are getting shorter and we're getting ready to put up our Christmas lights. All this can mean only one thing...

It's time for fall fund-raiser sales!!!!

Every year just about this time I am inundated with offers from neighborhood children to support their schools, support their marching band, support their soccer team, and support their scout troop. How in the world did any of these organizations ever survive before fund raisers??? I can buy a regular size bag of M&M's for $1, or for $7 I can buy some adorable Christmas wrapping paper with pictures of Santa performing various wintertime activities - skiing, sledding, or even participating in a snowball fight. For $10 I can buy a magazine subscription, to go along with the existing stack of magazines I have that I'm already not reading. And, just $15 will get me a box of popcorn that will help send a young boy to summer camp with his scout troop. Never mind that I can get an equally-sized box of microwave popcorn at Walmart for about $6.

And, the terrible thing about fund-raising is, I'm an enabler. I love kids and I will usually buy what they are selling. Texan Papa always says, "Don't feel guilty and buy something you don't need!" I am a big believer that, "I'm a big girl and if I don't want something I can just say no." I mean, who doesn't need wrapping paper? Who doesn't need some candy? Who doesn't need a magazine called "Texas Outdoor Monthly"?

I DO try to have some vague criteria in my own mind when deciding whether or not to part with a personal check for possibly unnecessary purchases. I think to myself, "Has this kid ever darkened my doorstep before today? Has this kid ever even said "Hi" to me? Or is this the kid who stole Peppermint Patty's scooter?" If I don't know the young entrepreneur, I am less eager to give him or her my business. But I have no problem at all giving my money for a worthy cause when I can actually say to my child-neighbor "Hi, Emma. Are you selling something for your school, Oak Street Elementary?" The other day a kid hopped up to my door and half-attempted to peddle a coupon-type magazine for local businesses and eateries. Here's how the conversation went:

Texan Mama: "Hi. Can I help you?" (name unknown to me. Never seen this kid before)

Kid: "Yeah, hi. I'm selling this coupon book, thing. It's got, like, a lot of coupons in it. We gotta sell them for football. They're good, I think. Do you think you want one?"

T.M.: (stunned by his marketing prowess) "Well, how much are they?"

Kid: "Um, they're $20."

T.M.: "Oh, thanks but I don't think so. Good Luck."

Kid: "Okay" (now turning toward his friend who's on a dirt bike up on the street) "Hey dude, she said no. Think your mom'll buy it?"

On the other hand, some fund raising items practically sell themselves. The Queen Mother of all fund raisers is one that Peppermint Patty has participated in for the last 2 years: Girl Scout cookies. We have already gotten prepped by the Girl Scout Council for this year's sales. My mouth is salivating and my pocketbook is twitching. Here in TX, I'm finding that the sales go a little bit differently than when we lived in the Midwest. Here, the girls actually acquire the boxes of cookies, then (much like in the movies) they load the cookies up in a wagon and walk house to house offering up the cookies in exchange for a second mortgage on your home. Not that $3.50 per box of cookies is so high, but when is the last time you saw someone buy just ONE box of Girl Scout Cookies?

So, prepare yourself for the assault of your doorsteps. They are coming. In full force. Wearing a uniform. And they will be armed with adorable smiles. Get your checkbooks ready.

The Spirit of Giving

Welcome SITS friends!!! I'm so excited that today is finally my day to be Featured Blogger!!! If you are new to SITS and have been waiting to be featured, keep up with the site visits and be patient. I feel like I waited a long time but the SITS gals are faithful! And you'll find some great blogs along the way!

I'm so glad to have you here. Please make yourself comfortable while you're here for your visit. And, if you have a few moments for prayer today, please click on the button on my sidebar for "Keep Believing". My very good friend needs lots of prayers today for her husband and her family.

Hope you enjoy my blog and happy reading. AND, happy day-after-hump-day!

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Now that Halloween is over, we're all on cruise control to Christmas. It's already happening... the stores are playing Christmas music, sales are already running for Christmas decorations, even the fall merchandise is being marked down for clearance. It's insane! I really love Christmas, but it seems to come earlier and earlier every year. But, the good side is that it helps me get prepared. Every year I am done with my Christmas shopping by about December 5th. I despise waiting in those long lines when Christmas Eve is just around the corner. When my kids say "I hope I get {insert name brand toy here} for Christmas this year" I usually tell them "You might need to wait till next year for that."

We don't do Santa at our house. Never have. It's a long story... I could give you a bunch of reasons that are only confirmed by the media... but I know I'm not in such a minority anymore. We don't do Easter Bunny either. Tooth fairy is a possibility, but by the time the first tooth falls out, we have already been dealing with the whole "Santa is just a pretend story" thing for a few years, so the kids figure it out pretty quick. But as I've talked to more moms here and there, I've found that not celebrating Santa isn't that uncommon anymore.

But with Santa or without him, we do exchange gifts. Christmas is such a fun time to show a person how much you care by buying that special something. You know, that very unique item that just happens to fit into a specific price category... and is available at the store... and is believed to be a popular item.... exactly what the person doesn't need but would never buy for himself or herself... Every year I dread buying gifts for people who are hard to buy for. What do they like? What do they want? What will they not return? Usually a gift card is the way to go there, but many times it feels like a cop-out to me. Like, Hmmm I couldn't think of anything to buy you so here's a gift card! It took me 5 whole minutes at the check out!!! But after getting many many unreturnable gadgets and gizmos, I believe I would too welcome a gift card with open arms.

It's funny, though, to think about the spirit of giving. It is said that is is better to give than to receive. Also we should give with an open heart for the sake of giving, not for the sake of getting something in return. I think that's true. But if that's true, why - when I buy a gift for someone - do I buy something I think they would like? If I give for the joy of giving, shouldn't I buy something that I want to give, not necessarily what I think they want to receive? I mean, who is giving supposed to satisfy - the giver or the recipient???

And, sometimes my best intentions just get the better of me. I want to give with an open heart, but I have bought presents for my brother's kids at every single birthday and every Christmas and he won't even send my kids a card on their birthdays. I used to blame it on him while he was divorced, thinking "Oh he needs a wife to help him remember those days. That's more of a woman thing." He's been remarried for 5 years now and his memory isn't working any better now than 5 years ago. Every family has one: the sibling who never remembers birthdays with any type of present. The one who always receives presents but it never occurs to him or her that the other folks in the family must be getting older too, usually with some type of annual celebratory event. And, in our family, he's also the sibling who always is willing to chip in on the big ticket gift for Mom & Dad, only to say, "Oh I don't have the cash on me right now. I'll get it to you." Only, he's been saying that for the last 3 years every Mother's Day or Father's day and we have yet to see them money. A few years ago, my sister and I got wise to the scam... and we assigned him the duty of purchasing the big-ticket camera for Christmas. Now if I could just find where I put that cash....

Historic?

I am the only one who is very sick of hearing how HISTORIC it is that a Black American is President? I sure don't recall that being part of Obama's election campaign. Never once did I hear, "Help to elect the first Black President."

Of course not. That's because he knew that skin color should not be the basis for a person's vote.

So why is it the basis for America's joy? Shouldn't we be proud that we elected the MOST QUALIFIED person - black or white, young or old, male or female? I'm not saying that Barack Obama is the most qualified person - I don't believe he is. But I think votes should be cast for a nominee because of his or her platform, his or her moral compass, and his or her experience and track record while in office. Votes should NOT be cast because of

• gender
• race
• home state
• age

Many people say how proud they are to be an American after this election. I'm not so sure.

What do you believe from the Interwebz?

I have seen some interesting questions about "What happens if John McCain is voted in as president? Then if he dies, Sarah Palin will be the President and Speaker of the House Nancy Pelozzi will be the VP, since she is 3rd in line."

Um, no.

The 25th Amendment (ratified in 1967) of the Constitution of the United States says

"In case of the removal of the President from office or of his death or resignation, the Vice President shall become President." - section 1

And, once the new President is in office, who will become Vice President?

"Whenever there is a vacancy in the office of the Vice President, the President shall nominate a Vice President who shall take office upon confirmation by a majority vote of both Houses of Congress." - section 2.

Yeah, but would this really ever happen?

Um, yes it did happen. In 1974, when Richard Nixon resigned, the vice-president Gerald Ford became President in accordance with section 1. Further, by becoming President, Gerald Ford left the Vice Presidency vacant. President Ford nominated former New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller to succeed him as Vice President. Rockefeller was later confirmed by the Senate and the House, and sworn into office on December 19, 1974. (info credits here and here)

So, if John McCain were to be elected President and then could not fulfill the duties of his office, Sarah Palin would be our new President. But I'd be willing to bet big bucks that Nancy Pelozzi would not even be on the long list for possible choices for a veep.

See, the interwebz can be an evil swirl of mis-information!!!

Dealing

I have a very good friend whose husband is dying of cancer. I feel almost selfish saying this, but I don't know how to deal with this. Me. Like *I* am the one I should be worried about. I know in my head, that feelings are just feelings - not actions - so I shouldn't really feel guilty. But I do.
I am having a really hard time with all the events surrounding his death, and I don't know how to handle it. That's not what I'm concerned with, though. I am concerned because, why am I crumbling about this? What's going on here?

I have been friends with Angie for over 20 years (click on the Keep Believing button on my sidebar to see her story). She is very much like a sister to me. Even though we don't talk every day, and even though there have been times that we've gone months without talking, I think about her every single day. She has gone through the roller coaster of cancer diagnosis, treatment, recovery, and living with the disease for over 11 years. I so want to be there for her - but that feels really selfish. In some way, I feel like I will only be useful if I can actively do something for her. I want to be a friend she can turn to if she needs to talk or cry or laugh, but she is blessed with a wonderful tight-knit family. Those folks are her stability. She is also an amazing Christian. I say that, not because one Christian is better than another, but rather because through her journey of cancer, she has not lost sight of who is in control and who is to be praised. Instead of cursing God, which so many people do when faced with a crisis, she has embraced His love. Instead of questioning, "Why us? Why now?" she has asked, "What can I learn from this? How can we glorify God with our lives?" So, besides having her family for support, she also has her faith. Those gifts won't be a guarantee that she won't falter, but they certainly are the net to catch her when she falls.

So, like I said, I'm not dealing with this well. I keep imagining what life would be like looking down the barrel of cancer. I keep trying to imagine what I would do if I were in her shoes. At the same time, I can't and I don't want to. I am so sad for her, I don't want this to be happening to her. I want to help her and support her, but I also don't want to get in the way, imposing myself into her life when the people she really wants and needs are the people in her family. I know it's okay to be sad about this, and surely this hits very close to home. But at the same time I realize, it is not ME with cancer, or MY husband. It isn't even MY best friend with cancer but rather the husband of my friend. I even feel selfish being sad, like I should have a better control of my emotions.

I've never had anyone really close to me die. The closest was when my infant niece died from SIDS when she was 3 1/2 months old. But I was only 17 at the time, and while I was so sad for my sister at the time, I wasn't even really close with my sister until many years later. It is really only now, as an adult and a mother, that I have considered the full scope of losing a child. And now, at the prospect of my very dear friend becoming a widow, that seems just too much for me. I want to take her pain away, just like when one of my children are hurting and I feel so HELPLESS that I can't do it. And I don't want to be sad for Angie because she has enough sadness around her. I want to be strong for her so that she doesn't feel like she has to be strong for the people around her or for herself.

I just don't know what to do. I feel like I am watching life through a television screen, and I know there is going to be a sad ending, and I just want to change the channel or look away but I can't because it's all really happening. I want to stop it somehow but I can't. And the thing that makes me so MAD WITH MYSELF is that Angie and Brian seem to be handling it all so very well, and what does that say about me? Here I am, completely removed from the consequences of cancer, and I am a complete mess.

So, if anyone has had someone they love live through cancer, especially someone so young, please tell me how you dealt with it. Because I really am not dealing very well.

Who Loves the King?

How many of you call your husband or boyfriend an idiot? Or stupid? Or remind him of his failures?

Um, I don't. I hope you don't either. It's not really in the recipe for a successful loving relationship. However, you wouldn't think that was the case if you watched shows like "According to Jim" or "Still Standing" or "The King Of Queens". While those shows are pretty amusing, it seems like the husband is always portrayed as a less-than-intelligent guy who is always trying to pull a scheme on his smart and beautiful wife. The scheme never works and the husband takes a verbal beating, being called "stupid", "moron", "idiot", and usually, "fat". Of course, in the end, they couple makes up but the husband looks like the dunder-head and the wife looks like the "I told you so".

Now, let's see a show of hands... Who loves "King of the Hill"?

Okay, okay, you can all put your hands down now. I admit, I did not even pay any attention to this show at first when it came out, because it is animated by the same guy (Mike Judge) who made Beavis & Butt-head. 'Nuff said about that. But at my husband's urging, I began to watch. I loved how Hank Hill was straight laced but not a big idiot, like the husbands on "According to Jim" and others like it. I guess it helps that the characters are animated, but they are more like a slice of real life, in my opinion. I would HOPE that it is more like real America to find a man who wants his son to grow up to be like himself and teach him the ways of the world from a man's point of view. I THINK it is more the norm to find a mom who works for her family as best she can, although sometimes misjudges her own strengths and weaknesses. Maybe, because "King of the Hill" is a cartoon, it can take license with poking fun at mainstream Americans without actually offending. After all, these aren't REAL people! Or are they?

Last night, I was so delighted (insert girly giggle here) to see Hank Hill at his place of work, Strickland Propane, being told by his co-worker to BLOG on MySpace. You see, Hank's co-worker Donna was big into Social Networking and she convinced the boss, Mr. Strickland, that putting the company online was the magic bullet the company needed to increase sales and grow the business. All workers were required to blog, upload photos, and talk about their REAL UNCENSORED FEELINGS. In the end, it didn't work out - you'd have to see the full episode for the full effect of why - and Hank tells his co-worker that at their office, all the co-workers are like family. And, it's just unnatural for family members to know each other's inner thoughts. Yes, of course, it is a bit tongue-in-cheek because Hank doesn't like anything that reeks of "real feelings". But I thought about it... how much do I want my readers to know about my inner thoughts?

What if I bit my toenails? Do I share it with you?

What if I pop my zits? Is that information you really need to know?

Yet, every day millions of people call it "theraputic" to do what I call the VERBAL VOMIT. We just blab out our thoughts, feelings, emotions, no matter how erratic or irrational they are. I guess the question is, what is erratic? What is irrational? And who decides that?

There is a very good reason I have chosen to keep my blog as private as possible. I want to be able to do the VERBAL VOMIT within reason. I want to share my feelings but I also want to keep some dignity for myself. I like to get honest opinions when I am waffling on a decision. I like to get reassurance when I'm beating myself up about something I've done when maybe I'm being too hard on myself. However, I'm not too fond of the criticisms I get when I don't even see it coming. But I guess, putting it all out there requires us to be ready for that criticism.

So far, I have not yet deleted any comments on my blog. Okay, well, I actually did delete 3, but that was by mistake and I contacted all those people and invited them to repost. But any snarky comments have been left in tact. I just feel really strongly that it's kinda like censorship if I delete their comments. Kinda like, "I only want people to see the good side of me". I am aware that other people disagree with me and I feel like if I leave their comments up, I am respecting their right to disagree. No matter how much I hate the comment. No matter how much it may hurt. I realize that it's my blog, and I can keep or delete any comment I want. And, I guess, this is how I want my blog to be. (Maybe I'm a masochist? Not in the naughty way!)

For example yesterday, something really really super awful happened to me at Wal-Mart and I considered whether or not I wanted to share it on my blog. I won't go into details, but it involved me walking away from one of the children who was left behind in the toy department. Just got preoccupied and forgot. About 5 minutes later, I realized one was missing and raced to the toy department to find the child with 2 WM workers. They were on the phone with someone (who? Cops? DFS? Security?) and I was given the "you're-a-shit-mother" look - guess I deserved it. I put my tail between my legs as I slunk away with the child. I am SO freaked out by this. I am SO upset. I know it was HORRIBLE. I know I completely suck. Trust me, nothing you could say would be worse than what I've said to myself. But I debated putting this up because I feel like, ya know, today I'm just not up for being called a bad mom, or irresponsible, or a dolt. I already feel those things - I don't need a zillion other moms, those who've never lost track of their own children - reminding me what a crappy job I did yesterday. Some days I do okay. Yesterday - FAIL.

So, I guess I just went ahead and told you more than I needed to. See, blogging + anonymity = VERBAL VOMIT.

So, how much do you reveal in your blog?