Daddy's Girl

Tall, dark and handsome... That's the best way to describe my Daddy. Well, the dark part has been replaced with silver but he still has dark  hair at heart. Like most little girls I was a Daddy's girl. Mom and I may have spent more time together, but still there is just something about a girl and her Daddy. I remember waiting patiently for him to tuck me in bed every night. If he happened to miss my "tucking" because of work, then the next night he would have to tuck me twice (a double tuck). I loved being his little helper around the house, holding his tools when he worked and watching in amazement at how he could do, fix, or make anything! Don't all little girls feel like that about their Daddy? As a child I remember him always being funny, doing tricks with his hands, and of course the perfect spot on impersonation of Donald Duck. Yesterday was Father's Day and I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank Daddy for being a wonderful Father. Yesterday, today and tomorrow I will always be a Daddy's girl.

GOLF..... Dog Snot & All

Last weekend my company had it's annual golf tournament. I typically play twice a year whether I need to or not and the company golf tournament is one of my favorite times to play. A couple of years ago I won a gift certificate to the local golf shop and bought a set of clubs.... baby blue (cause they didn't have pink). To be honest in the last year I've played more than usual because my husband and kids have started to enjoy golf too, it's a nice way to spend some family time together. This year, since my Mojo has been missing in action,  I wasn't in my usual form.... meaning I didn't go buy a new outfit to match my clubs. I've always said that it wasn't important how you played, just important how you looked while you played. Thanks to being out of commission for the last 6 months.... well, I'll just say things weren't looking so good. Needless to say there is a lot of rivalry where the tournament is concerned, due to the abnormal amount of testosterone around the office and in the field, so let the trash talking begin.  A friend of mine, (who just happens to also be my boss) has a standing bet with the leader of the team I happened to be on. That was a huge incentive for me to play well because my boss and I have our own football rivalry going.... You know that whole OSU vs OU thing..... As if OU is all that and a bag of chips too.... Ugh! Unfortunately the leader of my team has been on the losing end of the bet for the last SEVEN (count them) seven years so.... yeah, things weren't looking so good. I shot off an email a few days before the tournament to the leader of the team, to let him know that this was his year and we would "beat the ever loving dog snot" out of my boss. We could do it! The only problem with that is, we were just talking trash because neither one of us thought we had a snowballs chance in hell to beat the other team. My boss actually had the nerve to say that "it doesn't matter if your team beats my team because I won't have any confidence that you will have contributed to that win!" O-M-G!!!!... "HE- DID NOT just say that to me!" But he actually he did, which is what probably sealed his fate. The odds around the company was that our team would come in dead last..... and I didn't even have a cute outfit to compensate for such a rumor (Alice and that dang rabbit hole)!!!!! The good thing about that was I got our team really cheap in the Calcutta (so I'm not stupid). The first 9 holes went good, not great but we came in at 3 under par and like I told our A player, "Even if we lose we have nothing to hang our heads about." I made it a point to keep my boss updated every time I contributed a great drive or an outstanding putt, so he got several text during the day and I had witnesses. You know, sometimes the stars align just right, you find your groove and you just go with the flow and let success take you where it wants you to go..... That's what happened on the last 9 holes of the game!!!!! Yeah, baby!!!! We finished ahead of the other team, but the last time I had heard from them we were neck in neck. When they finished their round and delivered their score.... WE HAD WON!!!! Not only did we win, but they weren't even close to us (yeah, that's right as in no competition). I think they came in 5th. The buzz around the water cooler is we didn't write our scores down correctly, we talked the preacher on the team into crossing over to the dark side... Just the usual sore loser kind of talk. But you know.... it doesn't bother me at all that no one in that company believes we really won that tournament fair and square.... What really bothers me is, (and I say this with all sincerity)....  What really bothers me is that I didn't get a cute outfit for the picture! What was I thinking?

The Quiet One

3 years and 2 days after the birth of my first child, we eagerly awaited the birth of our second child. This time around I wasn't leaving anything to happenstance, so I asked the doctor to induce labor on my due date. Things were so different when I was expecting my second child. I had to make arrangements for my Mom to be here to help with my daughter, and I felt like everything had to fit into everyone else's schedule... So being induced seem the most logical thing (Ha!). While the nurse got me settled in, my husband goes down to the gift shop to get some magazines and maybe something to eat. When he comes back, the drip is going, I'm hooked up to all of the monitors and everything looks like a go for the launch sequence to begin. Since the birth of my daughter went so smoothly and quick, I'm expecting the same will be true for this birth as well..... After all, I'm a pro now. My husband was way more relaxed this time around as well. In fact he may have been just a tad bit cocky about the whole thing since he survived the last birth with no physical injuries. He sat over in the chair next to my bed flipping through his magazines when the contractions began. When a contraction would come along, he'd watch the monitor, then casually go back to his reading. It didn't take long before the contractions started to hurt. It all started coming back to me about this point..... Somehow over the last three years I had forgotten that labor feels like someone has a vice grip around your middle and they are trying to squeeze you till your head pops off. I'm starting to get, well.. to get a little pissed off at this point. Hubby's over there reading his magazine like a king on his throne while I'm having the ever loving guts squeezed out of me!!! He is being way to calm about this and I'm just about ready to tell him just where he can put those friggin magazines when the nurse runs (and I do mean run)into my room. Her eyes are wide as she grabs the oxygen mask and slaps it on my face and tells me to breath deep. She throws the head of the bed all the way down and jacks the foot of the bed all the way up and runs out of the room only to run back into the room bringing more people with her. She seems a little frantic which is kind of freaking me out and she tells my husband the baby is in distress and they are going to do an emergency c-section. The anesthesiologist comes and with great urgency grills my husband about how many ice chips I had so far... hmmm, guess someone should have been paying closer attention. In what seems like a matter of seconds we went from calm and collected to praying desperately for our baby's life. Before I knew it I was in the surgery room as the lights began to fade and all I could think about was if my baby would make it....   I just have one question.... Why the heck do nurses scream at you when you are waking up from surgery. There you are in this nice dark place feeling so cozy and carefree and they walk over to your bed and is it my imagination, or do they say in the loudest possible voice.... MRS. PATTERSON!!!!! YOU NEED TO WAKE UP!!!!! YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY!!!! MRS. PATTERSON, MRS. PATTERSON!!! (When I get out of this fog I'm going to give that nurse a wake-up call!) Then I hear the sweet voice of my husband whisper... Jac, we have a boy. Wake up Jac, we have a boy. My eyes didn't seem to want to cooperate with me, neither did my voice, but I just had to know.... I had to know now..... "Is the baby ok? Is he going to be ok?" I vaguely remember being able to see my husband through hazy eyes as he held my son over for me to see for myself that he was Perfect.Perfect little fingers, perfect little toes and a perfect button nose. The next day I'm laying in the hospital bed watching my perfect little boy sleep soundly in the bassinet next to my bed. My husband comes in and asked "How is he doing?" I look up at him with a dreamy unknowing in my eyes and say something that he has never let me forget.... "He's going to be our quiet one."

I Hate to be Late Especially for a Birth Date

I hate to be late... It's a huge pet peeve of mine. On a typical work day, I arrive 30 minutes early. If I'm on time for something, then I feel late and can be terribly fussy with whomever has made me "on time". So, when the doctor told me my due date for my first child was June 15th, I believed it was June 15th. He may have looked at that as an estimate, I looked at it as set in stone. On June 14th the nursery was completely finished, clothes folded and in the drawers, Nana and Papa on standby and me willing and ready to get the show on the road. Since I hadn't even had one contraction, my husband and I took a long walk downtown to spur things along. As he waddled me back home, I had to sit and rest on the curb before continuing.  I stubbornly refused a ride from a friend because..... well, because I was stubborn. When I woke up on June 15th I was already somewhat discouraged since I felt perfectly fine and by noon I was getting terribly concerned. If the birthing instructor was correct, and I was in labor 12 hours or more, than that would be pushing the baby's birth closer to tomorrow than today...  In my books that was late and I was not a happy camper. When my husband left to go back to work, he gave me a hug and told me not to worry and then bent toward my belly to offer a stern warning to it's occupant that things would go much smoother if everyone was on time. He headed back to work and I headed to my Mother-In-Law's house to wash laundry since our washer was on the blink. When I returned home from her house I felt a twinge in my mid-section and literally remember saying to myself.... "I wonder if that is what labor feels like." I thought to myself.... "after General Hospital goes off, if I'm still aching, I'll call my Mother-in-Law to describe the ache and see what she thinks." That was a funny phone call! Talk about getting someone who is usually very calm and subdued riled up about something, that phone call did the trick. She instructed me to hang tight she was on her way. I calmly called my husband and my parents to let them know that although I wasn't that hopeful, I would go ahead and let her take me to the hospital just to be sure. When Virginia, who is probably 5'4" and 98 pounds soaking wet comes to the house, she is a little ball of fire. I have never, nor did I ever again see her in such a state of excitement. She refused to allow me to even carry my own pillow and guided and pushed me into the car like we were fleeing an alien invasion. When we got to the hospital she ran around and opened my door, jerked my pillow out of my arms and started issuing instructions. This is one of those moments where you would just have to have known her and how quiet she was to truly understand how hysterically funny it was to see her this way. We got to the hospital at 5:00, which by my standards was WAY behind schedule. My husband arrived and we settled in for what we expected to be a long process...... Wrong! My first child was just as keen on promptness as her Momma. After a mere 3 hours of labor, my daughter fought her way into the bright lights and steel surroundings of the delivery room. She entered this world with plenty of expression and like her Momma never hesitates to speak her mind or prove her point. I'll never forget seeing her Daddy lean over the bassinet they placed her in. Her flailing hands found his finger and a sudden hush fell over her as he began to sing the ABC song just as he had done every night. Her round little face, red from all the squalling, quieted as her eyes searched frantically for the voice she knew.

Today those little hands grip the barrel of a M240 as she sails into foreign ports on the destroyer she proudly serves on.  Today those little eyes search the horizon for anything that would threaten the security of the land that she loves. Still today her ability to express herself has come in handy as she copes with being a woman in a very male environment. Happy Birthday Sissy!!! I know you love to hear your birth story on your birthday, but since you are away this year I put it here for you to see when you return home. June 15th, the day we welcomed you into our world and one of the happiest days of my life. Love you tons and bunches..... Momma

My Little Ball Of Fire

I look at my children and wonder how on earth they turned out so amazing. It certainly has to be a God Thang(misspelled on purpose). My prayer for my kids has always been "Lord help them be everything you created them to be". I'll admit that although Motherhood is a struggle sometimes (especially in those early years), it certainly has it's payoffs when you see them grow into amazing adults right before your very eyes.

When my oldest son was small he had A LOT of energy!!!!! He was maybe a little hyper, but really it was more like a force field of energy that surrounded his whole being. This force field surrounded him even in his sleep. He would go and go and go until he literally passed out from sheer exhaustion. Wherever he passed out, that is where he stayed because I in no way, shape, or form took any chances of waking the little bugger up. Whether it was in the middle of summer or in the dead of winter he would roll (and I do mean roll) himself up in a sleeping bag and pass out under the dining room table, in the middle of the floor, or under the coffee table. He never really slept in his bed until around high school age. He was just his own little person. When he was in 2nd grade his teacher pretty much insisted we have him tested for ADHD.... and he tested absolutely positive for it in every way, shape, and form. He has always had the happiest disposition and that was something I really wanted him to keep which lead to the decision to put him on medication so school would be a little easier....hmmm for his teachers. I didn't want his little spirit broken because of always being fussed at or getting in trouble, and although it had it's side effects the medication really did help him especially through his elementary years. Now as an adult he simply amazes me. He still has the best disposition of anyone I have ever known. He still has an energy field surrounding him, although it's not as pronounced now as it was when he was little. But the most amazing thing about him as an adult is his wisdom. He has a God given wisdom about life that surpasses anything I could have taught him as a child. The way he lives his life, the way he plans his steps, the people he chooses to surround himself with and the forethought that he puts into his relationships is nothing more than a spiritual gifting of unusual proportion. Life to him is one big adventure! Every obstacle is absolutely looked at as a new opportunity to beat the odds in a new and creative way. He has adventure in his blood and truly believes life is best lived to it's fullest and best when lived in the fullness of Christ. I guarantee you that you will never laugh more than when around him and his friends.... The are just a hoot to be with and they carry joy with them wherever they go. When I look at him I can't help but remember when I carried him in my womb. My Mother was so terrified that he would be a boy because she just believed boys were hard to handle. One day after talking to her on the phone I sat on the bed with my hands on my bulging belly and I heard this small sweet voice tell me that this would be a very special child... That the one who formed him in my womb and knew him before he was born had very special plans for this little guy and I had nothing to worry about. To this day I still remember the peace that poured over my spirit like a healing oil. So even though I shouldn't be, every day I am still amazed at the things God is not only doing in him, but also through him. He lives a life poured out. What more could a Mother ask for?

A Part of Me

Like whitened frost on a window pane

Or the feel of a midnight breeze

The marbled glare of the summer's sun

A faint whisper of Fallen leaves

Certain things define a time

Precious within my mind

Memories I hold within my heart

Treasures not left behind

Red dirt roads when the moon is full

Early morning dew

Snapshots of every season

Offer not a clue

Tales that transcends meaning

Timeless the prison will be

Captured behind a veil of tears

Remains a part of me

Spring Cleaning

The closet door quietly closes as I give a silent sigh of relief. The things I love had become entangled into a knotted mess. Some things tossed to the side with a question of whether it was needed any more. Other things hidden from view so I wouldn't have to make a decision about where to put them. Still other items lay in a pile that was intended to be discarded but I just hadn't found the courage to "toss them" yet.  Then there were things nicely hung, color coded for convenience of selection. Unfortunately this category paled in size compared to the other categories. . It was an ugly mess that had been solely created by me and could only be sorted and put back in order by my hands.... I had put it off for way to long and the day had come. It certainly wasn't a task I looked forward to, but now that it was over and everything was back in it's place I had an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. It's amazing how something so simple could create such mental chaos and when completed create such peace. Kinda like the closet of my soul. When neglected, things get piled up, forgotten about or things that simply don't belong find their way into a darkened corner. Getting the courage to dive in head first and start the sorting process is easier said than done.... But the rewards of having things in order leaves me with much satisfaction.