The Eye of the Storm

My daughter called me last night in a frantic mess. She was stuck in traffic in a terrible storm with reported tornadoes. The hardest thing as a mother is to know your child is in danger and know you simply can't get to them... I've felt that way a lot in the 7 years she has been in the Navy. While I worked at calming her down, her dad was looking at the radar trying to pinpoint exactly where she was in relation to the reported tornado. She called me back when she made it home safely... Whew! When we went to bed my husband took

one last look at Facebook and saw a picture of our son and his fiance huddled together in the tub... He had a grin the size of Texas, she looked terrified. If the picture had been taken a year ago, he would have been out chasing the storms, trying to get a good look at what was going on. That's what love does for you, it changes your perspective and makes you aware of emotions that aren't necessarily your own. So, while my neighbors, family and friends spent the night huddled in their bathtubs and around their television sets watching the good ole Oklahoma weather which can rip you a new one in a New York second, I slept like a baby after a warm bath. I drifted off to the sound of hail pelting the windows, wind whipping the trees and with the knowledge there was a good chance the basement was flooding. It's not because I have a brave heart, nor is my faith so great as to have no fear, but rather I've brushed up against death and know that you can be in the eye of the storm and not know it because danger is lurking around every corner and often is hidden in plain sight. Every second of life has the potential to be just as dangerous as the next,regardless of how it looks. Life is too short to live it fussing and fretting, stewing and stowing things you can't change. Trust me on this, you are just as protected when things look really bad, as you are when you feel all safe, warm and cozy. Storm or no storm, it's all in His control. Knowing it's all the same has helped me worry less and sleep more. Ahh, even the darkest of clouds have a shadow of a silver lining.

Just Like Old Times, Let the Good Times Roll

When Mike and I first married, the oil boom was in full swing and our little town was enjoying every second of it. We were young, didn't have any kids and enjoyed doing everything and nothing together. One Saturday we went to the Montgomery Ward's Outlet store here in town and found a couple of chocolate  bicycles that perfectly matched our Cedar Shake House.

 Sweetp: Cedar Shake Shingles and Prince Charming

We had the best time on those bikes. He put a milk crate on the back so my poodle Buford could ride with us and we would cruise around town discussing our dreams for the future. Later we would replace the milk crate with child carriers and even later he upgraded to a racing bike for his triathalons. Like a lot of things in life, at some point those old bikes got pushed to the corner of the garage until one day they were hauled out, dusted off and sold in a garage sale. A decision we have regretted ever since. Who would have known it then, but fast forward several year to a couple of years ago when we were visiting my daughter in San Diego, much to our surprise the beaches and sidewalks were full of bikes like our old ones. They were no frills plain old bikes in super cute colors, perfect for an afternoon by the beach. The other day Mike saw an ad on Facebook that a place in town had some for sale. He told me to go take a look at them on my lunch hour (you don't have to tell me twice to go shopping). Sure enough, there they were in sweet colors, no frills just begging to be taken home. I flip flopped on what color he might want, I mean they did have a black one, but gosh the lime green would just go so cute with my hot pink one. When he came to the store to load them in the truck, I asked if he would rather have the black one.... "No, I'm good with the green." He said with a grin (this is exactly why I love this man). Like all Fridays before a long weekend, the afternoon dragged by. I just couldn't wait to get off, run get a wicker basket and get on my bike.

I was so excited (Who says I'm not easily amused?)! Finally after airing the tires, strapping on the basket and installing warning lights on mine (do you even need to ask why?), we were ready to get rolling. We pushed the bikes through the basement to the driveway, and I thought mine seemed a little hard to push, I thought the chain might need some grease or something but he assured me it didn't so we hopped on and took off.  We had made it a whole block away when I began to fear maybe I hadn't been working out enough and  asked if we could pull over so he could take a picture of me on my new bike.... (and maybe run a EKG on me while we're at it). We rode for several blocks with him ahead of me, while I'm lagging behind thinking to myself.... "Dang! Those artificial hips of his must really work." Because frankly I was sucking air. I was pumping my legs as hard as I  could yet I just didn't seem to be going anywhere. I thought to myself.... "No wonder the kids today are so out of shape, they have gears, this old school stuff is for the birds." Finally I begged to go home and when we pulled into the driveway  I said.... "Geeze, gears really would come in handy." He came over to take a look at my bike and no wonder.... The tire was rubbing against the frame barely allowing the wheel to spin at all, much less freely.  He adjusted the seat, fixed the wheel and Oh my gosh, What a difference a little tweaking will do. We took another spin around the hood riding side by side. We laughed and chatted just like the good ole days. I think I'll packing a lunch in the wicker basket and ride to the park for a picnic. I'm super pumped that I don't need artifical hips to keep up with my Bionic Man,  but I do think I may need some pink streamers for the handlebars. That would just be sweet! Let the good times roll.

I Have Solved Global Warming

So the other day I was telling my husband about a great idea I had. I told him we really should get season passes to White Water Bay in OKC and I laid out my reasoning for doing so.... A) We could chill in the pool and get a great tan, B) See the kids all the time during the summer C)Go to great concerts at Frontier City D)If we had season passes, we wouldn't feel like we needed to get there first thing in the morning and stay until close, cause.... We could just come back... Whenever we wanted. He was agreeing with me on all points, but I couldn't leave well enough alone, I just had to keep talking.

Me- The downside to all of this is Murphy's Law is my shadow

Mike- Murphy's Law is your shadow???

Me- Yeah, if we get season passes, it guarantees everyone in the state of Oklahoma that we will have a very cool, wet summer, completely different than last year and we really won't get to use the passes much, but we'd also be helping, like everybody.

Mike- So, what you're saying is you can single handedly solve global warming by purchasing a season pass to Whit Water?

Me- That is exactly what I'm saying, which is exactly why we should do it and save everybody. We should, we should do it for all of mankind and Polar Bears.

Take that Al Gore! Problem solved, Oklahoma and Polar Bears, you are so welcome :-) Happy Memorial Day Ya'll!

A Compartment of the Heart That Has No Words

Something flashed across my path today. Nothing huge, earth shattering or monumental... Except to me. The funny thing about it is, it wasn't even a big deal, but behind it lay a big deal, therefore it drudged up all of the fears, insecurities, and gaping open wounds that I thought were long forgotten, put to rest and tucked away. My first instinct was to write a dark and ominous poem that alludes to nothing, yet describes everything in crystal clear darkness of the pain left throbbing in the past. But I didn't have the words for poetry, the energy to describe the pain, or the ability to analyze it over and over in my head, yet again. And that's what scares me. I have no problem putting

voice to my joys, sorrows and longings. So when something is too deep, too tender to express, and the memories so tender that words cannot even scratch the surface, it scares me. Only a handful of times in my life has something occurred that was so unexpected, so painful, I couldn't fully express it with words, phrases, emotions, pictures or through prayer. Yet deep inside, a part of me continues to search for that which cannot be explained, understand actions taken with no meaning, and explanations without the duty of revealing the whole truth.
Meaningful relationships are complicated, friendships are fragile. People, places and things which have the ability to complete us when they are in perfect harmony, also have the ability to devestate us on all levels, intellectually, spiritually, emotionally and deeply personally. It may not be in God's perfect plan that anything outside of Him have that much power over us, yet it absolutely is the truth, or at times

seems to be. I sent out a quick text today simply stating the issue in one short sentence, then ending with.... "And that's all I have to say about that." Because I can't begin the process of digging when I know it will unearth all of those questions again, yet reveal no answers. That's when I truly understand the depth of the wound, the healing that has yet to take place, and must face the fact that things may never have been as they appeared, know it may never be resolved, and accept that the pain will  ever be diluted to the point  I can put it into words. Having no words, is the scariest part of all, because that leaves me nothing... Well, nothing to say and for me that's a scary place to be. I have a special heart compartment for the few things failed by words. They are the secrets of my heart surrounded by the mystery of the complexities of life, stairways that have no destination, tunnels

with no light, paths with moss covered stones and windows with no glass. I keep the compartment under lock and key, alude to it every now and again until a language that surpasses the limitations of earth are passed. At that time the key will unlock a part of my story that has never been told. Until then, I have no words.

Perfume Travesty

When I was a little girl, our minister's wife, Sister Brown, always smelled so good. When she would hug me, I would just suck her up. Her house even smelled good and I used to tell Mom I wanted to smell like Sister Brown. I was a little bitty thing, but that's when I discovered the importance of fragrance, the impact it can have on others and the mystery of having your very own smell... In a good way people. A nice fragrance has the power to draw me closer or make me want to run far away. Smell has the power to trigger a long forgotten memory and even unearth long buried emotions. Maybe not for everyone, but it's certainly true for me. That's why I'm picky, picky, picky,about perfume. I've never understood how someone can pick up a bottle of perfume, squirt it all over themselves and not give any thought to how it affects others. But, maybe everyone isn't like me (shock and awe) and I suppose I may be a bit of a perfume snob. It's just the way I'm wired and the reason I was so upset yesterday when I learned they had discontinued my fragrance. When I bought my first bottle I knew it was love because I caught myself wanting to lick my arm (all day long). I know, weird huh? The fact that it has fragrance notes of mandarin and white chocolate explains the immediate and long lived attraction, as well as the intense desire to lick. The first thing I did was order a hoard off the internet, but let's be reasonable, I can't buy it all (insert pouty face here), which means I'm going to have to find a new smell, to add to the new me, and I'm not happy about it, not one little bit. It's one thing to you lose your mind and have tiny slivers of you that are still missing,it's totally another thing to lose your smell. It's a perfume travesty!

Pimp Your Dad Day

My husband goes shopping for himself once every blue moon... So, that means he's bought himself clothes a total of twice in the 30 years we've been married. Well, maybe more than that but not by much. It could be argued that I shop enough for the both of us and that is an argument that you just won't get out of me because BINGO, you would be so right. Still as I explained to him the other day, a woman likes to see her man mix it up a little in the wardrobe department, doesn't mean you can't wear the same outfit twice (I personally don't care to do it, but each to his own). We have a wedding coming up and his wardrobe was boring me (in the nicest of ways of course). So I urged him (not nagged) to go shopping with the boys and let them style him out, you know kind a like a pimp your dad day. The amount of fun I have shopping is in direct proportion to the number of bags I lug home. Lots of bags, lots of fun. Few bags, low fun factor. When he got home he was luggin some major baggage and I was jumping for joy like I'd just won the shoe lottery. I made him pull out all the new stuff and explain to me how it all went together. I sat on the bed bounced up and down and clapped with glee like a little girl, cause I wanna see my man pimped out in something other than the same ole, same ole sometimes. He is going to be styling and profiling for the wedding. Big kudos to him for being willing to do something that makes me so happy and thanks to the boys for pimping your Dad. You did good!

P.S. I know they are going to scold me for using the word pimp, but I'm used to being scolded and it kinda fits really well with the story so I'm sticking with it.

Hazmat Suit Required

I've battled a bad case of bronchitis for a week and finally decided I wasn't going to beat it on my own, so I drug myself out of bed and went to the Urgent Med clinic yesterday. They took x-rays, told me I had bronchitis offered me a shot along with antibiotics and steroids. I felt lousy enough I didn't make it to work until almost lunch today. My husband and teenager had taken my car to the City for a day of man shopping with my oldest son who had been given orders to "hip his Dad out" in the wardrobe department. I don't know what it is about men, and buying themselves new clothes. No one ever has to tell me it's time for a wardrobe update (insert eye roll here). Anyway, I got ready for work and headed out to the car with as much pep in my step as I could muster. My teenager was sweet enough to leave the keys to his car so I could get to work and when I opened the door to his car and climbed in everything inside me screamed "Go back to bed!" Seriously, my immune system isn't in top form right now, and I'm not so sure my tetanus shots are up to date and although I am on steroids and antibiotics, I'm very certain it would have been in my best interest to have been wearing a hazmat suit while in his car. As if having the hibbie-jibbies wasn't enough, his yellow "low on fuel" warning was doing a happy dance on the dash. I gave him a quick call and didn't feel much better when he assured me... "You should have enough to get you to work and back as long as you don't go any place else." Trust me, there is no place else I want to go in this car. In fact if I didn't feel so darn bad I would have been embarrassed to be driving it around with the shoe polished exclamations left by his girlfriend of "He's a Babe" and misc. teenage endearments. The funny thing about this is he is the most OCD person I know about his room and his stuff... Never a thing out of place in his room, never late for any work or anything else. Dependable beyond belief.... Except for his car. Apparently, it's the one place he feel comfortable letting his hair down.  Oh well,if nasty car hygiene is the worst thing he's guilty of, then I've got it made in the shade. Well except for the fact that I'm certain I've breathed in deadly spores that will melt my lungs and make my hair fall out. If I hadn't worn heels today, I'd just walk home tonight, but then again if he's wrong about the gas gauge, I'll be doing that anyway.

Battleship Totally Rocks My World!!!!!!!!!

You know those annoying parents who think their child is the only one to ever hit a home run, make a winning touch down, or star in the school play? I'M ONE OF THOSE!!! Oh, I'm sorry, I'll use my inside voice now but.... I'm one of those parents. We went to see the movie Battleship which my daughter starred in... Well technically she didn't star, star in it, and I guess technically she wasn't actually seen in it, like literally, but then again speaking as one of those parents, SHE SO 

TOTALLY DID.  Okay, I'll back up and start again. While my daughter participated in RIMPAC (an international  naval exercise), they filmed part of the movie Battleship on the ship she was on (USS Sampson DDG 102). When we were watching the movie, a couple of close up shots of her ship came on the screen and I was as proud and excited as if they had flashed a full screen shot of her million watt smile. Every fiber of my being wanted to stand up in the crowded

theater and shout  'THAT'S MY GIRL!" Of course I'm way too shy and subtle to do something like that, but I did clap like a manic sports fan and a couple of "Oh Yea Baby" did escape  my lips. Yep, my parental pride couldn't be stronger right now than if she had written, directed and had the starring role, cause that's just how proud parents are. Go Navy and Go Aja, cause you totally rock my world.

Aja, on one of the many adventures she has taken thanks to the United States Navy, her very own magic carpet to places most people only dream of seeing. I can see her saving the world from an Alien nation. Can't you?

Alice Finally Hits Pay Dirt

What the Alice in Wonderland movie (or book for that matter) didn't tell you, was when Alice fell down the rabbit hole, she was so dazed by the fall, that it completely messed up her workout routine. While she was running around talking to crazy rabbits and having tea with the Mad Hatter, she was also packing on some serious butt fat.  No, that was no petticoat under her apron dress, that was all her :-) Yeah, it's not exactly Hollywood movie material, but trust me, that's exactly how it went down. If you have no idea what I'm talking about you can go here

http://tbirecovery4sp.blogspot.com

or just exit and close. Either way makes me no never mind.

I've had the almost flu all week. I never really felt like I was going to die, so I'm pretty sure it wasn't the true flu, but still, I've felt pretty lousy. Tonight when I got home I was laying on the bed talking with my husband. Well, I was pretending to listen while my mind went running down 100 different rabbit trails because that's what people with ADHD do. But, to his credit he probably thought I was listening to him, cause he's just adorable like that.  When there was enough of a pause in the conversation that it wouldn't be awkward and totally obvious that I wasn't listening in the first place I jumped up from the bed and headed out of the room....  "Where you going?"  I told him I was just going to dig through the closet underneath the stairs and take a look in my skinny clothes tote. When I came back into the room with an armload of clothes he shook his head and said.... "Boy women are so different than men."  Well, duh! That's what makes life so fun. Think about it for a second. If the earth was full of nothing but men... How boring would that be. Women add spice and high heels to life, but that's just my opinion.  I thought he was referring to the fact that most women have a skinny side of the closet, a fat side of the closet and then somewhere in between side of the closet.... Because yes, things flucuate with us, can I get a witness. No, that wasn't what he was talking about, he just thought it was weird that I could be so sick and then come home and want to try on clothes. Well let's be honest, it's only because I was going down in the size of clothing I was trying on, had it been the opposite, I would have been sicker than a dog and wouldn't be trying on anything.  It's just one of those women things that men could never wrap their minds around in a billion years and exactly why we make things so interesting. So he watches me try on an armload of clothes (with much interest I might add), and to his utter joy (because the evening would not have gone well if nothing had fit), all of my old clothes fit.  No, I am no super model, never will be, but thank you Jesus I can finally pack the fat side of my closet into  totes and tuck them under the stairs.  Now I won't have to go buy all new clothes.... But come to think of it,  I still need to replace those jeans the EMT guys cut off of me and I do have a wedding to go to. Maybe a little shopping but certainly not a whole wardrobe :-)

The One

I've had a wonderfully busy weekend. It was full of college graduation events with my future Daughter-in-law, her family and friends. As I sat in the audience of graduation it was hard to hold back tears. I've noticed through the years that whomever my children love, be it a girlfriend, boyfriend, friend, teacher or boss, I seem to
get swept up in their affection and love them as well. I think that's just a Mom thing where you can't help but love those who pour into your child in a positive way. Later at a party with their friends, I looked around at all the beautiful people (that would make a great title to a song). My son has a great (and big) group of beautiful friends. Across the room I watched a table full of them as they laughed, joked and hugged. In the back yard my son sat with others and strummed his guitar as they sang. The street out front was lined with cars which

really isn't out of the norm even on a non-party night. The tiny house was busting at the seams as parents and friends celebrated endings and new beginnings. There were a lot of special people who have graced his life over the last few years, but across the crowed room... There was the one.

Consider Yourself a Success

Growing up my favorite game was playing dolls. Not Barbie dolls, not paper dolls, but baby dolls. I remember telling my mom I never wanted to grow up because I never wanted to get too old to play dolls. I would dress my pet rabbit, Thumperlina, in doll clothes and stroll her around the house in a stroller. When we realized Thumperlina had unnecessary parts in her nether regions, we shortened her name to Thumper and I continued to dress him in doll clothes, effectively making him the first cross dressing rabbit I know.  That was before things like cross dressing rabbits were even important enough to be political fodder, so even at a young age I was a trend setter. A lot of little girls dream of being doctors, lawyers or designers, I only dreamed of being a mom. My bedtime prayer went like this...

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord soul to take. And please Lord don't do the rapture thing before I have a chance to have a baby and watch it grow."

It's true, I prayed that a lot when I was young, I was so afraid Christ would return before I could become a mom. A friend of mine told me this weekend that she wasn't sure if it was a good thing, or a bad thing that now her kids were grown and in college, neither one of them wanted to come back home and live with her. That is the ultimate gold medal in motherhood. Giving your children wings and courage enough to embark upon their own adventures leaving you behind to do nothing but simply glow in the pride of who they have become. To all the moms who have accomplished this great feat, the happiest of Mother's Day to you! Job well done faithful one, consider yourself a success.

Occasionally

Spring is springing all around which means every day is one day closer to the June wedding we are anticipating. The mailman delivered the invitation this week. When I came in from work, it was lying on the
 dining
room table. I practically had to pinch myself to believe I was staring at an invitation to my Son's wedding. Barefoot and tussled haired is how I still see him in my mind. The days fly by, the seasons change and you have to embrace each day and every season that God has blessed you with. There were days I doubted, but the day has come when I now know that yes... He will wear shoes... Occasionally.

But obviously not today

Let's Hear it for the Girls

This weekend was the personal shower for my future daughter-in-law. It was a well planned event for a bride who's goal is to be as unplanned and spontaneous as possible... because that's just how these kids roll. They pulled back the veil to her inner circle and I got a glimpse of the female version of "The Haaj". They were every bit as fun loving and hysterical to sit and watch as my son's friends, except with less belching, scratching and other noises that can be heard any time manly men gather (although there we a couple of snorts I believe).

The setting was beautiful, perfect party house with a tri-level back yard which sits on the edge of a lake. 

The games include doing pantomimes of wedding things

Guess who brought the panties 

A video of my son being asked questions. For every question the bride had to guess the answer and get a piece of bubble gum for every answer given.

Every personal shower needs a lap dance or two

Of course what personal shower is complete without the bride being made to model her new sexy stuff for her friends as she tries desperately to keep from dying from embarrassment. It was an absolutely adorable day spent with a lot of adorable women who are coming into their own, picking up the mantel of tradition and carrying it on with their own funky style. I loved it!!!!