Hope From the Edge

It's Gettin' Real Now, Folks.

2012-01-22T21:09:00.000-05:00

It's finally to the point I can't hide my head in the sand like an ostrich and pretend time is passing by and I get to hide from it.

Paige found out this past weekend that she was accepted to the college of her choice.

She came running down the stairs Saturday with wide eyes and holding her phone in front of her like it was on fire but she wasn't going to let go because she was on a mission to show me something.

I looked and there it was on the screen. The status saying : accepted.

Whoa.

We shared the wide eye'd look with each other and then got ten kinds of excited.

My baby is going to college. My 3 lb. 7 oz. baby who has fought for her way in this world since the day she was born is going to college. All by herself.

I am nothing but a mass of emotions now. I'm so thrilled and proud of her as she gets ready to start a new and exciting chapter in her young life. I'm sad because she's leaving me and if I know this kid, she won't look back when she walks out the door. She's that independant and ready to take on the world.

I should have been more mentally prepared for this, people. I've done her Senior ad in the yearbook. I've ordered her cap and gown. I've picked out the caterer for the reception at my house after graduation. I've told people what date everything is happening so they can put it on their calendars.

But, college?

Big Girl and Big Boy school? Where there's parties, and a lot less adult supervision. Where many great first loves are found. Where many hearts are broken for the first time. Where lives are planned and futures started.

Now, The Man and I have to go attend an orientation and see exactly where our child will hopefully live for at least four years and graduate. I have to go check out this place my baby girl will call home ... a home where I'm not living.

And on top of all of that?? The child has had her license for a year now and has become this tremendous help with errands and such since then. Now, I've got to go back to doing all the running around on my own. She ENJOYS running to W*lmart for bread and milk. ~sigh~ Life, you are so flippin' funny. You get my kid grown to where she can do all this amazing stuff, then you take her away. Well, I'm not laughing, Life. Not at all.

Ohhhh...before I forget to tell you. My doctor's office had a Ladie's Night this past Friday night. It was a meeting of WLS patients who could bring a friend or family member to see vendors and such and have a nice stress free meeting. I was humbled and awe'd by the success stories I heard and saw with my own eyes. Paige went with me because I just didn't want to go there all by myself. Yeah, I'm not usually so wimpy, but I wanted to spend some time with just the two of us. Afterwards, we grabbed a late supper and sat and chatted while we ate. It was a wonderful time and a memory that I will cherish with her.

And...................we took some pictures in the car before going in!

Had to take the "pretty" picture. Really like this one.

Annnnnd you get this. Cuz it's how we roll.

Ups, Downs, the Good, and How It Is

2012-01-14T23:24:00.000-05:00

I have many different ranges of issues going on over here. Some are mental and others are physical on the old body. I promised I would keep it real and that's how I roll...on a fairly regular basis.

The loss thus far is 84 pounds. Not so shabby for five months (well, on the 18th it'll be five months), right? I still feel like it's not good enough. Many of you scoff and snort and wonder why on earth I would think that. I think that because right now I am consumed with my eating, with my pouch, with my protein intake, with my water intake, and that blessed set of scales in my bathroom. I hope I can make 100 pounds by my six month surgiversary because, People? I still have a long ways to go to get where I need to be. I stall out on a regular basis once a month. You do the math on that one. Yay for being a woman. For a solid week, I crave chocolate and every morning that stupid butt scale sits right there on the same number. The first couple of times it did this, I would call Neighbor Debbie all upset and carrying on about having this surgery for nothing and all kinds of hormonal rantings. She would listen like the friend she is and offer whatever I needed to hear that moment. Now, we've put a pattern to it and I'm not allowing myself to carry on until I'm absolutely positive my stall has nothing to do with my hormones. Fair enough.

I have lost around four sizes in clothes. Pants are what astound me the most. I have, at the moment, four pair of regular pants that fit (one of those being a pair of jeans). I have three pair of work out pants that I have washed nearly to death. And fashionistas out there? Kiss my entire still big butt. Yoga pants are the flippin' bomb and I big as you can get pink fluffy heart them. They are comfortable and flatter what I got going on here. Shirts are starting to get a little scarce, too. I went to an outlet this evening with the hubby to buy a couple of shirts to see me through for a while. I have found myself shopping in my daughter's closet and there might be a few shirts that didn't make it back to her closet after laundry day. I'm just borrowing, man, that's all.

While losing sizes in clothes, the fat is falling off of my face somewhat. Yeah, about all of that. Every day finds me discovering a new wrinkle. I know I'm now officially in my forties. I don't need a reminder, thankyouverymuch. I knew this was coming by having RNY. What I didn't expect was the turkey gobbler I have hanging from my neck. Oh, sweet Baby Jesus! I hope this issue under my chin gets a tad better. IT'S FLIPPIN' WRINKLED! I am moisturizing like a fool and I secretly sit on the stool in front of my bathroom mirror pulling back my skin on my face just a smidgen. I'm trying very hard not to be vain about the new wrinkles emerging or the turkey gobbler hanging down on my neck. I am a female, though, my friends. While I am thrilled beyond belief that I am down from a half dozen chins to around two to three-ish....what I got going on just isn't attractive at the moment.

Let's talk about jewelry, shall we? I am now wearing my wedding rings on my middle finger so I don't lose them. My poor ring finger looks naked and it has this pitiful indention on it where I wore my rings no matter what size I was and if those suckers got tight in the summer? I took it like a woman and kept wearing them. I was able to wear a ring yesterday my parents gave me for Christmas ten years ago. I loved that ring and hated to put in the jewelry box when it wouldn't even go past the first knuckle of my finger. Out of curiosity, I picked it up yesterday and when it went all the way on my finger, I may have done an unwitnessed happy dance in my room in front of the jewelry box. I told my husband that when I get to the weight where I'm supposed to be, I may need a new wedding ring set. He hasn't disagreed. My father in law informed me that I could get my rings re-sized. I told him that no, I couldn't. He must have thought I misunderstood and told me again that I could get my wedding rings re-sized. Again, I told him no, I couldn't. Once more he tried to explain that the rings I was wearing that were too big could be made a smaller size. This time I responded, NO, they can't because I need a new set. His reply? Oh.

I keep waiting to lose a shoe size. I read where everyone has lost up to two shoe sizes. My feet must be hanging onto every bit of weight they can. Only one or two pair are a tad loose now and I am just wondering what's going to happen there.

The gym and I will never be good friends. I know this and accept this. The forums I frequent where RNY people gather all talk about how they LOVE going to the gym and working out and blah and gag and whatever. I don't quite hate the gym, but I sure don't skip out to the vehicle when it's time to go get on the dreadmill. Since I got that virus back around Thanksgiving, it's been hard to get back into a hard groove. I'm still going but it's just a chore, people. When I'm there, I don't skimp and put in almost two hours of cardio and weight machines. I figure if I drove there and am wearing the cute work out clothes, the least I can do is get my money's worth and try to tone up the bat wings my arms are carrying. I tell people I know the gym is a necessary evil to help me get to the good side. Being able to drop two medications because of exercise and weight loss keeps me motivated. Yes, I know this is something I need to do forever and ever, amen, in order to maintain weight loss and health. I just don't think I'll ever be one to skip with happiness to the gym because I get to work out and sweat.

There's an idea I'm toying around with, but am not sure I will go forward with putting it in action. First off, I appreciate all the comments on my FB (book of faces) after blog posts. (You all do realize you can post at the bottom of each post, right? You click on the word comment and you can talk to me all day long. Bloggers love comments about as much as they love the counter on the side and seeing where everyone is from. That's just a rumor I heard.) What I appreciate more is the private messages I've received from people who have family members who have had WLS (weight loss surgery). Messages from people who have thought about having the surgery their own selves. Now, this is where some of you will think, "OMG, she's talking about me!" I've received no less than a dozen of these private messages. I try to respond in a positive honest manner. Some people have even come out of the WLS closet and admitted that they've had a WLS, but have told no one. All of the above has touched me and I want you all to know that my "door" is always open for anyone that needs/wants to talk about this subject. Because of this, I am toying with starting a FB page for my blog so people can like it and really talk to me if they want to do so. This is for those who aren't my BFF on FB (and the military thought THEY had the corner on acronyms) and might have a question or comment they wish to share that's private. I'd appreciate some feedback on this if you don't mind.

I am such a slacker. I didn't put up my Christmas decoration pictures. Ya gotta give me some sympathy here, please. I'm a little hyper-focused on my self right now and it's hard to shake that. I also kind of can't shake it right now because I HAVE to stay that focused in order to make all of this a success. My children aren't being neglected, nor is The Man. If I'm not thinking about how much fluid I've drank so far that day, I'm eye'ing my living room trying to figure out what color I'm going to paint my two story living room this Spring. (I'm thinking a nice neutral green that's not too dark or minty bright- any suggestions?) I'm also shopping online at the moment for a foyer pendant light because the one I have is awful and I can't get it on Gregslist fast enough. I will give that bad boy away. See? So many things going on and not enough time to get it all done before my itty bitty baby girl graduates high school in May.

I'm still here and chugging right along in my new life journey. Again, all your positive remarks and encouragement have helped me more than you could ever know. This is hard and it's not easy, and when I feel a little down? You all help me up. Thank you.

New Year, New Goals, and a New Car!

2012-01-05T08:24:00.000-05:00

I hope you all had yourselves a grand Christmas and New Year's Eve. My husband got home and had time off until the New Year and I sat back and enjoyed him tremendously. This year my Mom and Pop in law got to spend Christmas with us. It was so nice and it was also the first time my husband has had a Christmas with both parents in ten years. I won't bore you with the Santa goodness my children received. Suffice it to say, Santa is a flippin' loon at our house. My kids don't get stuff all year long. They get birthday presents and maybe one other little thing around Labor Day, but other than that? Nope. My son doesn't even get to peruse the toy aisles at stores during the year except at his birthday and in November (to get ideas for Santa). He doesn't even ask to go look because he knows he won't get anything. I won't let him look and suffer because his Mama is a hard case and won't give in to the "I want" mentality kids get when going through toy aisles.

My favorite gift from Christmas was a medic alert bracelet. Yep, no kidding. It is highly suggested that bariatric surgery patients wear one because we have a few new issues. I'm not supposed to have a blind NG tube now. (That's when they shove the breathing tube down your throat.) Shoving one in blind can rupture my pouch (stomach) if it goes down the wrong way. The tag has my name, surgery type, a few details, and my husband's cell phone number on it. I know some of you are thinking, "those bracelets are so unattractive". I beg to differ! Miss Hope's is all fancy-like. My husband ordered mine from Lauren's Hope. I do love me some jewelry, friends. The joy of these bracelets is that I can use one tag and get many many bracelets to jazz it up. This one is what he got for me that I love love love! He also got this one so I can change things up a bit. Of course, I've been shopping a little bit and found a few more that I think would be excellent additions to medic alert bracelet collection. It has been decided that we're going to get one for him since he has a little bit (understatement) reaction to penicillin. I am not being paid to advertise for this site...I just love the product.

Between Christmas and New Year's Eve, we had to go buy a car. The teenager is ecstatic she now has the Loser Cruiser (2000 Chevy Impala) to call her own. She has a few stickers purchased at the beach on vacation last year that she is dying to put on the back window and now she can.

Our vehicle buying expedition was fun. I love to go car buying! My husband had researched vehicles the whole time he was up North in class and he was ready to go decide which one was going to be his very own. I went along as The Negotiator. Oh, yes, my friend, Miss Hope steps in and stares down a salesman and his manager without blinking.

We had narrowed our selection down to two vehicles by the second day. The Nissan Altima and the Hyundia Sonata. Mr. Sonata salesman started out on the wrong foot.When we arrived at his dealership, he walked right past me to shake my husband's hand. *blink* *blink* I then said, "What's your Mama's name?" He paused in shock and told me before he even thought about it. I told him, "Well, I am going to call her because you walked right by me, THE LADY, to shake my husband's hand when you should have come to me first. Are you from around here??" The poor guy, still in shock, told he was from the area. I then sniffed and said, "Then you should have known better."

I think it turns my husband on when I get into negotiating mode. The salesmen and managers try to talk to him and here I am, leaning in to get into their line of sight, making them look at me, and talk to me. My husband sits back in his chair and doesn't say a word, but grins this smug grin at them. Many times I caught them looking at him with this "is she for real??" look on their faces. I flat out told them that we were going to drive off of a lot that day with a new car. It could be their car or their competition's car down the street. The manager comes in to sit down behind the desk in front of us. He was just precious with his big bald self. He starts into the re-sell value and such. I put my hand on the desk and politely said, "That's all fine and dandy, but I have a vehicle at home that is going to be twelve years old. I don't intend on buying a car and turning around and selling it in two weeks, Let's move past this conversation, please." After a few more minutes of extolling the virtues of the Sonata, he was back to holding its value. I looked at my husband then and said, "Are we back to THIS tired conversation??" He then stopped with that thread of thought. He finally conceded to my stubborn self and put down his absolute best offer. As the manager, he threw in car cleaning and detailing twice a month for however long we own the car and one year of free oil changes. That made me raise my eyebrow in appreciation because my husband is NOT one to keep his vehicle clean which drives me and my teenager insane. I stood up, shook his hand, and told him if we were buying his vehicle, we'd see him again within an hour or two.

The Man and I rolled down the street to the Nissan dealer. We had been there the night before and had gotten an idea of the offer they put on the table. We strolled in and waited for the guy we had spoken with the night before to come in. I must also mention that the night before, I also told him we were going to be purchasing a vehicle within 24 hours and he needed to give me an offer that would knock my socks off. I left with my socks still on my feet. Great offer, but still wearing socks. Since our guy was busy, the manager came over to talk to us. I flat out told him we were down to his car and another and he could make the difference. He asked me what he needed to do and I told him I was glad he asked. I told him that I wanted a car cleaning and detail once a month. The other place had offered twice a month, but I would be satisfied with one visit a month to keep the car snappy looking. I also wanted a year of free oil changes. He sat there a second and left to crunch some figures.

That morning before we left out to make our final decision, I found my husband at the breakfast table with some consumer magazine in one hand, laptop in front of him, and USAA on the phone for insurance quotes. The man knew what a decent price would be for both vehicles and really? Both vehicles were comparable in price and features. I asked him before we reached the dealership what a fair price would be per all his research and he told me. Those were the prices I was aiming for and maybe a tad lower.

Mr. Nissan Manager came back with what I asked for and an even lower price than the night before. I looked over the paperwork, asked a few questions, and stood up to leave. I told him that my husband and I were refusing to make a snap decision and we were going to go to lunch to discuss it. If we went with his car, he would know in about an hour.

We sat down to lunch and grinned at each other. The Altima had beat the Sonata by over $3,000. Maybe the Sonata had a couple of features that were cooler than the Altima, but really? My 6 foot tall husband fit better in the Altima and felt a little bit more comfortable riding in it. It didn't matter to me as this was going to be his vehicle to carpool with and only mine a little on the off days to drive to the gym. I told him to go ahead and call our sales guy and tell him to start the paperwork and get fog lights (a must for my husband) installed.

By the time we arrived back after lunch, the fog lights were installed and it was about to be taken to be detailed. I was bored then because I had done what I was there to do. We got the paperwork taken care and my husband had to take off for a doctor's appointment. I got to drive the new car home. Oh, and I got the car cleaning and detail work once a month and FOUR oil changes (with no time constraints) in writing to go with my paperwork.

This year is going to full of negotiations (in February we will have TWO teenage girls under one roof), new situations (said oldest teenager heading off to college), and who knows what else?? Maybe I need to up my nerve medication until next New Year's?

I am doing well with my new lifestyle in the eating world. I am now down 81 lbs!! I still have a ways to go, but I'm seeing results and smaller sized clothing. The holidays were hard with food, as I'm sure they always will be, but I made it through to the other side. I saw my surgeon a few days before Christmas for a check-up and we got along much better this time. I don't know if it's because The Man went with me so as to meet him and see his face, or if both he and I were in a better place. I got kind of whiny over missing rice, bread, pasta, and sweets. He shrugged and told me it was okay to TASTE something. Oh yeah? Then he told me I could have apples and I kind of zoned after that and a few minutes later I told him, "I'm so excited over apples, I can't hardly think straight right now!" I think the ability to taste something has helped me out so much. I know I can't have a piece of pie, or a huge helping of mac-n-cheese. But, I can TASTE it!! Since then, if I feel I "need" to, I get one small taste, just to get the flavor on my tongue and in my mouth and I'm perfectly fine after that. I find that I don't want a big helping or half of a cake. I just want to literally taste it and I thoroughly enjoy that little taste and have been fine. I was told to keep my carbs at no more than 18 grams a meal. Yeah, Miss Hope can't go that high without getting really sick feeling. Keeping it at around 10-12 keeps me from getting sick so that's where I'm going to stay for now. Doc told me to eat steak. I wrinkled my nose and told him that was like eating a sock. Apparently, that's normal and I have to work past it because steak is good for us WLS people as it's good protein and will stay in the pouch longer and provide that "full" feeling. We'll see how that goes.

I'm going to head on out of here. Neighbor Debbie and I have plans to catch up on some shows this morning since I'm waiting to go to the gym this evening with Paige. I'm kind of doing that so the B12 shot I got yesterday will have enough time to really kick in and give me the boost I need to work out. I have been a hot mess the past week waiting to get that shot yesterday. Now, my doctor is out to figure out a way to help me out. More details on that later. You all take care of yourselves now. It's been chilly out!

A Thought from a Kid

2011-12-15T09:39:00.000-05:00

I love my Makenna. She has been such an easy child to love and raise. She is by no means perfect because that sister is lazy as all get out and hates cleaning and has high aspirations of being rich and hiring a house cleaner for me and her later in life. I'm not going to argue with her thoughtfulness.

She's the kid who sits in the background and observes everyone and everything around her. Trust me, there are times I have to look around and see if she's listening because her eavesdropping will come back to haunt you later. *shudder* Trust me on that one.

Remember I had a talk with her before I had my surgery? She has moments when she is sad for me because of certain foods I can't eat anymore. We both gravitate to the chocolate during that time of month and while she eats her monthly quota, she will look at me with sad eyes because without that chocolate goodness, she is a hot mess. I only get to enjoy sugar free chocolate pudding. I know...it makes you sad, too.

The other day, out of the blue, she shocked me. She casually mentioned she had read my blog. I raised my eyebrows in question. I know my kids read my blog but after so many years of blogging, they kind of shrug it off and may go months without reading. It's cool, I don't mind.

She told me that she was worried when I had the surgery. When I asked her why, she said she was worried I wouldn't look like her Mama anymore. She went on to tell me that when she got to the progress post with the pictures, she was just blown away. She said..."You still look like my Mama, but you look so much healthier!"

I heart that kid.

I laughed and said thank you. I then commented that I think we favor more now my double chins are starting to recede. All my kids (and my niece Toot!) and I have the same pointy chin and cheeks. I can see it more now that my face isn't so swollen and puffy looking. It's the little things, friends.

I have to keep a closer eye on that sister. As calm and laid back as she looks on the outside..she worries on the inside. I need to make more of an effort and communicate better, I believe. The other two? If they are worried, you know it. There are no doubts what's going on with those two.

I wish I had a picture of the two of us, but the new phone (that wasn't dropped in the toilet) doesn't have one. I'm excited to take pictures this year and compare to last year. I promise to take pictures to share.

Speaking of pictures. I haven't taken any of my Christmas decorations. Can you believe that? I will, of course, take care of that soon. See, my husband has been out of town with a class for 15 weeks. Yes, 15 weeks. That's longer than a dang sea patrol. Sure, he's been home a few times for short weekend visits, but I need him HERE. I still can't believe I had this surgery and two weeks later he took off and I've been on my own healing with three kids. What was I thinking?

Anyway, he will be coming home this weekend. I am so excited I can't hardly stand it because he's taking Monday off to take me to Atlanta to a certain store that starts with the letter "I" with "ke" in the middle and an "A" on the end. My love knows no bounds for that place. I intend on doing some serious shopping and will be wearing the good shoes that day. No, the kids are not going. I don't have time for that mess. I need complete focus!!

I have now lost 73 pounds. When The Man and I went to that first initial visit with the doctor, Doctor C casually said that he bet I could lose 75 lbs before my husband got home from up North. I remember thinking, "Dude, you are high." Wow. I kind of wish I could lose those last two pounds before Saturday, but overall? I'm good. I still have a ways to go, but I'm chipping away at it every day.

If I don't see you before, you all have yourself a Merry Christmas.

Miss Hope's Progress

2011-12-06T20:58:00.000-05:00

I'm sick as can be right now. I got myself a nice little nasty virus, most probably from the gym. I have been banned from that place of torture til the end of the week because I go in the mornings and there are older patrons who do NOT need what I have going on right now.

This morning I had to drag my sick butt up and out to take the middle kid to get a full brand new set of braces. I have pictures to share in a different post for you. I bought a new shirt that is in a size I haven't seen in about, ohhhh, eight years. Same with the pants/jeans. I think wore this size after about a year of dating of my husband and eating out on date nights. I may have felt like poop on a stick, but thought I finally looked okay enough to take a picture for my progress.

And now I get to share with you my mini collage that Paige helped me make because I am STOOPID when it comes to operating anything on this blessed laptop.

I'm making some progress, Internets. And you should really pardon those Crocs I was wearing the morning of surgery. I knew I was going to have to walk a mile after the operation and my feet were going to swell. Best decision to make on footwear. Totally wore cute brown Mary Janes with a heel today.

Hopefully it'll look better by next progress picture!

Thanksgiving this Year

2011-11-29T09:56:00.000-05:00

How was your Thanksgiving? Mine was dangit hard. In more ways than one.

This was my last Thanksgiving with my Paige where I knew she was going with us to her Nana's. Next year, she may have a boyfriend who will whisk her away to spend the holiday with his people. College sucks. I want her to grow up but on my terms, Internets. Yes, I know this is impossible and improbable, but I can think whatever I want in my head, thankyouverymuch.

I got a small taste of the future this Thanksgiving. She has a very close friend from childhood (Wait..she's still still a child, right? So they've been friends since they were 11 and 12 years old.) who was home from college for the week. They simply adore each other and always try to see each other when in the same area. She asked to go with A. on Wednesday evening to see one of his friends perform somewhere. I said sure and told her to be home (at Nana's) by midnight. I love A. He had her home and she was in the door by 11:34. *snort* Not me. I would have made it in the door at 11:59:59. The next day, Thanksgiving, I was making my list for Black Friday and checking it twice, when I received a phone call from A. He politely asked if Paige could accompany him and his mother and Aunts shopping that night. *sigh* This was to be the first year she was to go with us. Family rule states you have to be sixteen to go Black Friday shopping and we didn't go last year. I was looking so forward to having her go with us this year. (Family rule was just made last year. It's our family and our rules, man.) I told him sure she could go and have a blast. And she did. She hung out with A. and friend N. and they did massive people watching and laughing. I wasn't worried because we were all in the same area shopping and I even ran into her around 3 a.m. She made it home by 5:30 and we weren't far behind at 7:30 a.m. Some of you may think that's alot of freedom to give a teenager. She's a good kid. A. is a good kid. She doesn't go and do much because she hates high school. I loved high school and find this sad. I want her to love high school like I did, but she's an old soul. Always has been. High school is just a chore that has to be done in her mind. She's so excited for college and I can't really blame her. I think that's when she'll bloom and blossom and become even more fabulous than what she is now. (Is that possible??)

Now, we are starting to do early admissions for college. Graduation announcements have been ordered and her page in the yearbook in school has been designed by yours truly. I have to order her cap and gown this week and I already know who is catering her graduation reception here at the house.

Life is here. It doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. That kid of mine is sprouting wings and it won't be long before she spreads them and jumps from my nest.

Side note on me personally now. Thanksgiving was hard with the food. I won't lie to you. There was a lot I couldn't eat because carbs are not my friend at all. My sis-in-law and Mama made the sweet potato casserole with splenda, God bless 'em, but I still couldn't eat it. It's really hard to explain, but when you take a small bite, you'll know within minutes if you can handle it. I took two small bites and my system told me "Yeah, not now, girl." So, I listen. I was able to enjoy a piece of ham with giblet gravy on top so I was happy. My awesome husband wouldn't eat red velvet cake in front of me. How cute is that? All in all, I lost 2 pounds last week because food and I aren't the greatest of friends right now. Maybe next year I can have a taste of all that I missed out on this year. I am loving having more energy and being able to walk. Black Friday shopping was flippin' great because I could stand in line without my back breaking. I could walk and look as long as I wanted without desperately seeking out a bench to sit upon. So, all in all, Thanksgiving was great. Just the food part was hard.

I didn't take pictures like I intended to do because...well, it just didn't happen. I snapped a few with my camera phone but haven't put them on the laptop yet. I have a few games on my phone for the kids, especially The Boy. His favorite is a states game. (Stack the States on that little "i" phone thing.) Who would have thought that a trivia game about the United States would be a seven year old's obsession? Anyway, I let him play from time to time and the Thursday before Thanksgiving he asked to play with my phone. I said sure. Little did I know he was going to take it to the bathroom with him and try to pee and play the game at the same time. Yep. It fell right on into the toilet. I didn't lose my mind. No need and because I didn't want a mouth full of fever blisters from stress. I put it in rice and did all the suggestions that was given to me on the book of faces. When it wasn't working again by Saturday evening, my husband ordered another one because we pay an obscene amount of insurance on that piece of technology and an even bigger obscene amount to replace it. I had it by Monday before we left out on Tuesday but many things were lost because Miss Hope didn't sync like she should. (She does now.) Hey! You should all go one day without your phone. Seriously. Monday, the kids were already out of school for the holiday and I had a dental cleaning. Afterwards, I met Neighbor Debbie and Sherry-Do for lunch. I had to run get some makeup from MaySee's when we were done. After that was done, I decided to wander around the store a little bit. I didn't buy anything, but just wanted to look. It was kind of nice not having my phone go off every few minutes from kids wanting/needing something or the hubby checking in. Don't get me wrong, I feel all naked without my phone and really hate to be without it but I did find out that I can survive and do well without it. Side note: We were all sitting around chatting at Mama's last week and I made the comment to my Daddy that I don't know how on Earth he let me out the house as a teenager without a phone. His reply? "I don't know how I did it either!!" Ahhh...the advances of technology!

Look how my explanation for not putting a picture on this post turned into some long rambling paragraph. Methinks I may have had just a tad bit too much coffee to drink this morning.

I am in the process of decking my halls. There will be pictures. I promise. Just a piece of useless information to put out there. Last year my whole budget went to the fabulous 12 ft. tree that graces my living room. I wasn't able to decorate my banisters and such but this year? Miss Hope pretty much spent as much in decorations as I did the tree last year. The Man is still recovering from me taking decorating classes and HAVING to have certain things to deck my halls. My mantle is giving me fits. I want elegant and gorgeous and it's not heading that way at the moment. Inspiration is eluding me right now with my mantle. Hopefully, it will all be done in the next day or two so I can share with you!

The Easy Way Out?

2011-11-17T09:07:00.000-05:00

How many of you out there have no addictions? Absolutely none whatsoever. If you don't have one single solitary addiction to claim, I am in complete awe of you and want to be like you when I grow up.

I have an addiction. It's called a food addiction. I love it. I want to eat when I am sad, happy, mad, unhappy, and any other emotion you can come up with to feel. I absolutely adore food, especially a sugar laden dessert. Oh my, how I love a good dessert with a cup of coffee. Heaven on Earth, my friends, is that for me.

I used to think that having weight loss surgery was the easy way out. I would smirk and know that diet and exercise were just as easy because I, myself, lost 107 lbs around the age of 25 to be an awesomely healthy woman.

I was such an ass.

For those of you who haven't discovered this widely known fact: The older you get, the harder it is to lose weight.

Especially when you're fighting food addiction, too.

(I am trying so hard here to write a good and decent post. I've already stopped twice and can't seem to gather my thoughts the way I want them to come across to you. I may just give up and write it real.)

I hit forty back in May. Good ol' forty. As much as I dreaded it, I was pleasantly surprised to find out it wasn't so bad. I didn't automatically feel old. I did feel unhealthy. Do you know what my daily prayer became each day? "Dear Lord, please let me live long enough to raise my children. Anything after that is gravy." I KNEW how bad my health was getting. I had just been put on cholesterol medication and my blood pressure was creeping its way up the scale.

How do you stop a train that's out of control?? That's how I felt with my weight. I couldn't even stand at the washing machine to do clothes without my back hurting so badly, I would feel crippled. I definitely couldn't stand at the sink and wash dishes without bending over in agony. Going to the mall? Out of the question. I wasn't going to be one of those obese people riding a scooter or sitting down every 50 feet. My pride would keep me plodding along when I would have to go shop at that torture chamber. How shameful is that, I ask you?

I would look in the mirror and my face was so distorted. It was puffy and the chins were reproducing at an alarming rate. I would talk to my reflection and ask it how in the heck did it get that bad?? My husband has always called me "Beautiful" and I truly believe he means it but I truly didn't feel like it when I would see myself looking back at me.

Everyone has a breaking point. Mine came when I finally realized what I was praying for each day. I was only forty. And all I was asking for was to live long enough to raise my children. Really?? REALLY???

I feel for any type of addict. Drug addicts. Alcoholics. I have alcoholics in my family. My Grandaddy was a recovered alcoholic. He drank until I was six and a heart attack had him making the choice: alcohol and death or his grandchildren. So blessed was my brother and me that he chose us. So blessed because that gave us almost 25 more years with him. I've watched the show Intervention many times and just ached for those suffering from the grips of addiction. Ached for the families that love the addicts.

I've been jealous of those drug addicts and alcoholics in a way. They can go to rehab and be weaned from their addictions. They are told to stay away from old haunts that have those addictions. Stay away from the old crowds so you're not pulled into that black hole again.

So what does a food addict do? Think about it. We can't avoid it. We have to have it to live. It's there in our faces. Every.Single.Day.Of.Our.Lives. I have to deal with my addiction every single meal. If you think it's easy, then you're wrong.

I have had to scare myself silly to do this. If I don't eat right, I get to experience a dumping syndrome. (Yeah, click on those two words to see what I'm talking about.) I am scared to death of dumping and will avoid sweets like the plague. And I miss them. I miss pasta and its carb goodness. I miss rice and the comfort it brings this Southern girl. I think one day I can eat a tiny bit of that stuff again, but I don't anticipate it for another year. Dude. I can't have chocolate when I PMS. I get to enjoy (insert sarcasm) a sugar free chocolate pudding. Yay me. Even chewing gum is something I will never enjoy again. If gum is swallowed (and I'm guilty of doing that on occasion), then it can clog up the tiny hole between the pouch and the intestines. I just can't take the chance so no more gum for me.

I still go out with my friends to eat supper on the weekend. There are a few things I can eat like soup and chicken fingers (maybe a whole one!), some steamed veggies, or fish. Keep in mind that I can only have 1/4-1/2 cup of food. I've just worked up to the half cup and feel like I've gorged myself when I'm done. Oh, and I have to take 30 minutes to eat my meal. And I can't drink one sip of beverage during my meal and for 30 minutes afterwards.

I don't want you to feel sorry for me at all. No, Sir or Ma'am. I'm just giving you an idea of my personal food addiction rehab. It's not easy and it's not fun. I watch my friends eat burgers and I miss bread with every fiber of my being in that moment. I want to grab a piece and just stuff my mouth, consequences thrown out of the window.

If you still think weight loss surgery is an easy way out? Then you're an ass. It's a final effort to find a way to gain control over our minds and bodies. Sure, there are some people out there who go in with the wrong attitude and the thought that this will be an easy way for them to lose weight. Can you imagine the reality slap across the face they have after surgery?? I know the slap I got was life changing . I *knew* what was expected afterwards, but walking the walk is a totally different road. Many people who have the surgery replace their food addiction with drugs or alcohol. It's the nature or genetic makeup of the beast. I have always avoided drinking alot of alcohol because of my Grandaddy. I know I have potential because I love the taste of a good beer, glass of wine, or mixed drink.( I am totally guilty of tasting a friend's beverage!!) I may have had my share of fun in college, but those days are over and Miss Hope don't play with that fire. I also am scared to pieces with drugs. Remember now, I was the one who asked for the morphine pump to be taken off after surgery because I didn't like how it made me feel.

Makes me wonder exactly which addictive behavior is going to take over now that food isn't an option. I have to laugh because I would love obsession over cleaning house to really grab me. Yeah, not so much yet.

I promise you from the bottom of my heart that weight loss surgery isn't an easy way out. I hope this post would change your mind a little bit if you did think that way. If you know someone who has taken this road, please give them a boost if you can. An "Atta Boy" or "Atta Girl". A "You look amazing!". Maybe throw in "Wow, you are one incredibly strong person to committ to this new journey!".

Trust me, it'll make a world of difference in their lives. And Miss Hope will love you for it.

Fall Edge Decoratin' for 2011

2011-11-13T21:34:00.000-05:00

I've done a tad bit decorating for the Fall season around The Edge this year. There is this fabulous store that gives occasional classes and I try to take them when they're offered. This year the store had Fall Decorating classes and a few friends and I took a Saturday afternoon with just the gals and had a blast. We went to the class, out to lunch, and shopping for supplies to make our homes welcome the Fall season.

I should have posted this a week or so ago, but things have been really busy around The Edge. I went to a Christmas decorating class this past weekend and when I showed them the pictures of what I did for the Fall (on my phone), they asked that I put them on the book of faces and tag them. I hung my head in shame and said my first loyalty is to The Blog and all pictures go here first. Surprisingly, they seemed to appear as if they understood and so here I am catching up yet again.

Time for show and tell!

I made this all by myself! It was actually quite easy and you can bet your fanny I'm going to store it so it stays all pretty. Next year I foresee that it may be a centerpiece on a table.

I kept my mantle pretty simple. Don't you LOVE those pumpkins I found in a florist shop? In one of the classes I've taken, we were told to use use use books. Use them to keep things slightly elevated. A couple of books on the right side makes a slightly more interesting look that I really liked.

Set up for making my grapevine wreath. We were told to take the spiral piece of vine that holds it together off. (Do this outside because it gets messy quick!) Then, you pull and yank and "fluff" it up. It makes it more three dimensional and better looking. By golly, they were right! You take a zip tie to the top to keep it all together and that is covered up with the decorating. I am using my daughter's easel as it makes it much easier. Also, location is by the stove because I use a certain type of glue and it's in the little frying pan on the stove ready to go. (How about that Pampered Chef stone that is older than my 12 year old? Love it!)

I bought a plain wooden "T" from either Michael's or Joann's and a seventy something cents thing of paint. I wanted an antique color that would scream Fall. Two coats later and I liked how it turned out. I used cheetah print ribbon with a gold color mixed in and picks with different things on them. The "T" is glued on and I also used florist wire just for insurance. I really love how this turned out.

This is what I had left over. Literally. I got this stuff and really didn't "feel" it for the mantle or wreath. Oh, man, I must have went through four or fives vases I had before finally settling on this simple cylinder shaped vase (from Ikea). It's not glamorous or fancy like professional decorators , but it doesn't look half bad on the dining room table. Next year I'll focus on a more fancy centerpiece for that table.

That's my Fall decorating. I've enjoyed having this stuff around in my home. I find that I'm enjoying decorating more and more now that I know how to make some stuff that I've admired and never wanted to pay the high dollar they cost.

Last year, my full on intent was to get my tree. My beautiful 12 foot amazing tree. The class I attended this past weekend for Christmas opened another door for me decorating wise and I may have purchased many things for the upcoming season. Alas, I had to promise my middle daughter that I would not put up anything Christmas related until after Thanksgiving. She has a valid point and I will respect her wish.

Got a couple of busy busy weeks coming up. The 18th will by my 3 month Surgiversary. I plan on taking a picture so you can see some of the progress I've made. Happy Fall, Ya'll!!

Summer 2011 Part 6 (Final One!!)

2011-10-21T11:06:00.000-04:00

You all have been so patient with me telling my story. I appreciate that and I hope you've been enlightened and have somewhat enjoyed my adventure. This is the final "chapter" before I get to current status and blog about what's going on now.

I woke up in my hospital room. Keep in mind, the 24 hours following my surgery are really blurry. I do remember my husband being there. Those precious precious people gave Miss Hope a morphine pump. They are totally on my Christmas list now and forever. I had the leg covers (formal name eludes me right now) that kept massaging my lower legs to prevent blood clots (those bad boys are on MY Christmas list!). The catheter was in and I could have hardly cared less at that point. Little did we know that the morphine would relax me to the point where my body believed breathing to be optional. The machine would start beeping and my husband would say, "Breathe Hope!" Jeesh, man, I was SLEEPING HERE. He finally left to head home and care for our kids and reassure them that I was fine. I may have spoken to Paige on the phone, but am not sure.

I had the bestest nurse in the entire free world that night. It was a young man who's name was Jake or Jace (the white board was across from my bed and no matter how hard I squinted, all I could see was a "J" at the beginning of his name). He was 25 and normally worked in the ICU. He was visiting the bariatric floor to see if maybe he would like to work there at some time. I do believe I loved that boy a little bit. He was in my room every 15 minutes checking my I.V. and the machines. He helped me move and get comfortable and chatted with me through my drug induced haze. He made my first night so bearable and I've already told the hospital to give him a raise (no joke).

Around 5 in the morning, he came to me and informed me that the catheter was coming out at 6 a.m. and then I was going to have to go for my swallow/leak test downstairs. I could not have a single drop to drink until I had this x-ray done in case there was a leak in my new interior system. I squinted at him and said, "So, who is coming to take the catheter out?"

He grinned and said he already had another female nurse coming to take care of that. I immediately felt relief. I told him that I surely meant no offense, but I was old enough to be his favorite Aunt and being Baptist made me modest to the core. He assured me he was not offended and that he normally did this with female patients to preserve their modesty.

DON'T YOU LOVE HIM, TOO???

After this lovely nurse came in and took out the catheter, it was time to stand up and get unhooked from everything for the ride to the leak test.

Here I am, full of pain and morphine and haven't eaten or drank in 30 something hours and they want me to stand and WALK to a wheelchair.

I believe the words "You people are HIGH" came out of my mouth at some point during this.

I was so nauseated, I couldn't hardly stand myself. Apparently, Miss Hope had hit the morphine pump a tad too much during the night. Gah, I can't ever remember feeling that sick.

I told them they better make this snappy, because I was going down quick. They gave me a bucket and off we went for the test.

I get down in the bowels of the hospital and there's this metal table. I have on a hospital gown and my pajama pants. Two tiny nurses help me get on the table and lay flat. Oh, my nauseated body!!!! I vaguely remember a man coming in with a balding head and shirt and tie on.

*Before surgery, we are stressed that you can only sip sip sip sip sip SIP SIP SIP liquid the rest of your life. No more gulping ever never.*

This man told me to DRINK the liquid he gave me. I held up my hand and said, "Let's be clear here. Do you want me to SIP it or DRINK it? Because I'm about to puke everywhere and I want to get it right the first time."

He laughed and told me this one time I had DRINK.

'Nuff said, my friend.

I started drinking.

Son of a gun, that was some nasty stuff. He told me to stop and I heard the clicking of the machine. He told me to DRINK again. Aye, Sir!! I took it down like I was at a college frat party.

Afterwards, I was gasping for breath. I forgot to mention that the table was flat when I got on it, but they tilted it until I was standing so it was not the best experience in my life.

They helped me get back in the wheelchair, handed me my bucket and back to the room we went.

The thought "Am I going to die?" crossed my mind.

Shortly after that, I was sitting in the chair beside the bed when my nurse J came in to say goodbye. I told him he should really come to the bariatric side to work. He laughed and asked why? I told him because we're not sick like those people in ICU, we're just crazy and we can have conversations! He laughed again and said it was a great shift for him. I never saw him again and was a little sad.

My husband showed up shortly after this to keep me company. It was time for me to start walking the halls. You have to walk a mile before they will let you leave. I was a shuffling turtle, but by golly, I walked.

My doctor came through when we were walking and he walked with me some and when I asked him if he wanted me to go back to my room to talk, he waved me off and said he was done with me that moment. (LOVE-for reals- his sense of humor).

I went in on a Thursday and was staying until Saturday. I begged for them to take the morphine pump off because that stuff is just evil, people. They refused and I am so glad because Friday night I went to turn over and got stuck. I was on fire and pulled something and couldn't move. I hit the nurse's button and when she answered, I told her I sure could use a little help. She came right away and helped me get comfortable. I didn't realize until a minute later, she hit the morphine for me. See ya until tomorrow morning!

I had a drain hanging out of my abdomen. Talk about gross?? Yuck. I didn't have to change it so I ignored it best I could. I've read where most people keep the drain up to a week or two. My doctor was awesome and took mine out on Saturday before I left.

After the results for the leak test came back Friday morning, I was given an ounce of water. One ounce. I was told to sip it and make it last. Seriously. My "meal" consisted of broth and lemon jello and protein drink. That meal was the best meal EVAH. I got that a couple of times while I was there and each one was so amazing to my food deprived body.

I know I'm rambling with this post, but I am truly trying to recall all that happened.

The surgery gas. Dear Baby Jesus and the little bitty lambs. That mess right there has the potential to bring an elephant to its knees. When I got home on Saturday, Neighbor Debbie came to sit with me while The Man took the kids out to supper and spend time with them. I sat in my recliner and dozed most of the time she was here. I woke up at one point and told her the gas was killing me! She has had a hysterectomy and knew where I was coming from. Together, we remembered heating bags the two of us had made a couple of years earlier. She went digging in my pantry and found two of them and started up the microwave. She put them on my lower abdomen and the RELIEF, people!!! I probably told her I loved her before I passed out again.

I did a lot of sleeping and between naps, I would walk around my house. That's because my husband nagged me to death about it. (I do love that man.) He was a rock for me. He knows as much about nutrition (for me or RNY) as I do and he pushed me when I didn't feel like being pushed.

Another point of interest I want to mention is hormones. Those blessed hormones. What I didn't know before surgery was that fat cells store hormones. Here I am shedding fat after surgery and guess what's popping in my body like a ticker tape parade in New York City?? Yep, hormones. (Guys, this may be a little too much for your liking, but the gals will get this next part.) I started my cycle two weeks early and it was like I had given birth but without the baby. I went to my regular family doctor to see if I truly was dying. She assured me I was fine and this is a by-product of surgery and especially this type of surgery. I asked her to give me a script for adult liquid Tylenol as I can never again take the amazing Motrin or anything like that.It was time to ditch the Tylenol with codeine they sent home with me. My cycle still isn't back to normal and I found out that may be the case for the next few months. Lovely. I tried to talk Doctor C into taking out my uterus while he was up in my abdomen and such and he refused. Said it might be a tad too much on my body. Humph. Sure am wishing he had by this point and time in my life.

Now you know how my summer went and how the rest of my life begins. I'm going to be posting some thoughts on food addiction and some of the hurdles I've had to cross in the two months since that fateful day. I have healed wonderfully with little dashes on my stomach from the laproscopic tools.

I went through my buyer's remorse I heard/read about before surgery. That was around the second and third week when I started coming back to my senses. I bawled over what I had done to my body (thank you yet again hormones) and just knew I would be miserable the rest of my life. Yes, there were loads of violins playing the most pitiful tune you ever heard all around my head.

I still have so many hurdles to get over and many issues left to deal with in my mind and body. I welcome you to come along on my journey with me and learn how I adjust and how my family adjusts.

We're the same 'Ol Edge...just trying to be improved!

Summer 2011 Part 5

2011-10-18T12:12:00.001-04:00

The Man and I arrived at the hospital while it was still dark. It's a small Catholic hospital and it was very quiet as we walked down the hall to the day surgery and surgery check-in. We walked into a room full of people who were waiting for their turn in an O.R. somewhere in the building. Of course, it didn't help that as soon as I hit the door, I smelled fresh brewed coffee that was provided for the family members of O.R. patients. I let the front desk know I was there and we found a seat and settled in to get comfortable.

I was so sleepy. That nerve pill was working me over and my head was bobbing around worse than Granny in the nursing home. A nurse came to inform me that my surgery was scheduled for 2:30 that afternoon and I would be taken back around 11:30 a.m. Excuse me??? That woke me up a little bit right there. Seriously? They wanted me to sit in that waiting room for hours, then stroll back for a surgery.

I got a little bit ticked, I admit. I was starving. I was thirsty. I was sleepy. I told my husband I wasn't gonna stay. I went to the front desk and confirmed that I wouldn't be going back until around 11:30 a.m. I then told her I was going home to sleep in my own bed for a few hours and I would be back. She had a tiny bit of panic in her eyes at the thought of me leaving, but I have people who can testify that I have a knack of being obnoxious when need be, and I exercised that option at that moment. I told her I was not going to sit there for hours because my doctor has no sense of time. I would be back at 11:30 and would see her then.

Then we left and headed back home.

I hardly remember the ride home as I was so sleepy. Gah, that nerve pill sure kept me calm. Calm and knocked out! We got home and climbed back in bed to snatch a few hours of sleep.

We got back to the hospital in plenty of time and it wasn't long before I was taken back to get all prepped and ready. This would be where my nerves were taking over and I was considering that maybe this wasn't the greatest idea I've ever had in my short 40 years. My husband was left in the waiting room and would be allowed to keep me company for a few minutes before they took me back.

I started texting with Lu. Now, Lu was a basket case over this whole deal. She's the one that is always having surgeries. I've taken her quite a few times as I know how to deal with her. It was killing her she couldn't be with me for mine, but Thank You, Jesus! for text messaging. She kept me sane and I promised to text her until right before they took me back.

Our conversation went something like this:

Me: I am voluntarily letting someone remove part of my stomach and re-route my intestines! OMG!!!!!

Lu: I know...I've been there...I wanted to back out when I got there that morning ...but my whole thing was I was doing it for me...and my kids...and I don't regret it one bit.

Me: Ya gotta help me with every step.

Lu: I will be there to hold ur hand just like u did with me.

Me: I know...I just wish we didn't have to stretch our arms so far!!

11:43 a.m.

Me: Gah. I am in the back and naked under this hospital gown. This is so against my religion. If I could wear my drawers, I'd be so happy.

(You come out of surgery with a catheter. This was almost the straw that broke the camel's back as Miss Hope don't do catheters. Last time I had one was when I had Paige and it was NOT the best experience of my life. Suffice it to say, I had to do some MASSIVE praying to get past this and keep on.)

Lu: LOL...girl what does it matter...they gonna be on your insides...lol

Me: Know how I'm staying calm? I keep telling myself I can walk out at any time and they can't stop me.

This is the picture I then sent to her. See the terror?!?!?

Lu: I told myself that too...over and over and over..until they gave me the drugs and I didn't give a rats a**...lol

Me: I know the thought sure is helping me right now!! About to get i.v.

15 minutes later....

Me: Slight spazz. I.V. is in. If I run now, I gotta take the pole with me!

Lu: Well, if it has wheels. LOL But...remember to close the gown. Hee hee

Me. Girl, if I run? I won't care who sees my nekkid butt.

That was around the end of our conversation. The Man came back to join me and I was semi-calm and wide awake. That nerve pill was taken over by my anxiety. I was seriously wanting something to knock me out.

Doctor C came in and he towered over the foot of my bed. He talked to me about the change in surgery plans in nixing the gastric sleeve and going with the RNY Gastric Bypass. I asked him what he thought and he smiled and said that it was going to be just fine.

He then turned and closed the curtain, pushed my legs over and sat down at the foot of my bed. He took my hand and reached and took my husband's hand. Then he prayed. Out loud. For me, for himself, for the surgery, for my family, and for the new life I was about to start. I felt tears come to my eyes and a peace come over my soul. When he finished, I was ready.

The nurse anethesist was the same one when I had my scope! She recognized me and I was so happy to see her. She came in and chatted and this other nurse was with her. He was a very serious and somber Asian guy. He proceeded to ask me question and I copied his demeanor and seriousness. He stopped and looked at me and I said, "Dude! Lighten up! I'm the one getting cut, not you!" Others hanging around laughed and said they tell him that all the time. He grinned and after that, he was super. At the end he said, "Do you have any questions?" I said, "Are you married? Do you have kids? What are they? Do you like your job?" We were having a great time when the call came to take me back.

Miss Sweet Nurse Anethesist snuck some goody drug in my I.V. and the last thought I had before I woke up was riding down the hall on the gurney and going into a room that way more stuff than I thought an operating room should have. I vaguely remember her telling me to dream of something nice and I sighed and said, "then I'll dream about the beach".

Next thing I knew, I was waking up in my hospital room and I really really needed to get the hot poker out of my abdomen.

Summer 2011 Part 4

2011-10-12T09:19:00.000-04:00

When I heard those words, "We have a problem with your insurance", I froze. Everything was right there within my reach and all I could think was that my stupid insurance was going to screw it up.

Small side trip here. My insurance isn't insurance per se. It's a government health plan. That's what you get when you are military or retired military. There are times when it covers much and times when it doesn't cover at all. There are many prescription drugs we can't get because Tricare won't cover them. It's a true love-hate relationship a person has with this health plan. Right now, I am fighting tooth and nail to be able to see an ob/gyn out in town for my yearly women's checkup and mammogram. I do not wish to go on base/post because a friend of mine had her mammogram on base/post (it's Army and they call it post and we're Navy and we call it base) and got a call months later to go back and re-do the test. Why? Because the person reading the mammograms obviously didn't know what they were doing and misread quite a few. They had to perform an audit and suffice it to say, many women had to go back for another mammogram and anxiously await results and hope and pray they didn't have breast cancer that took the opportunity of no diagnosis to grow. Yeah, I don't want any part of that hot mess.

Back to the story....

The patient representative informed me that my procedure wasn't covered by Tricare.

HUH???? I told her that indeed it was because they offered it on base, which is where I first heard about it.

She told me to give her a few minutes to call Tricare back and she would call me right back. I knew then that my surgery wasn't going to be on Tuesday, August 16. I sighed and she was quick to tell me we were going to work something out and I would have surgery at some point that week.

Within the hour she called me back with not so good news. Apparently, Tricare would cover the gastric sleeve on base, but NOT out in town. Now, tell me how much sense that makes?? Absolutely none. She went on to tell me that I had two choices with their practice. I could do the lap band or gastric bypass. Wow. Talk about two extremes. I had to let her know for sure the next morning what my decision was and how I wanted to handle the situation. We mutually decided before I got off of the phone to let her schedule me for the gastric bypass on Thursday, August 18. I told her I had to talk to my husband and support group and if the decision was going to be different, I would let her know the next morning first thing.

I got off of the phone and took a deep breath. This totally turned my mind around. I was as prepared as I could be for the gastric sleeve, but the gastric bypass?? Do you know what they do with a gastric bypass, people? Click on this sentence and see this mess. Yeah, that's what I was looking at doing inside of my body.

That evening Neighbor Debbie and Neighbor Greg came over and The Man and I sat down sat down with them for a serious hard down discussion. I made the point that before I even knew about the gastric sleeve, I was seriously considering the RNY (short name for gastric bypass). We all talked about pro's and con's for a while. Neighbor Greg had a valid point when he said I wasn't a stranger to the RNY and I was extremely serious about losing weight and getting healthy. The Man was highly concerned with me having my insides cut up and rearranged. Truth is, I was having concerns of that nature my own self. I called Lu (who had RNY 8 years ago her own self) and we had a talk where she supported whatever I decided.

By the time we went to bed, I was positive the RNY was the way to go. I was too obese and miserable NOT to do it and get healthy.

My husband works for an amazing place in his military retirement. They have family emergency leave you can take each year that doesn't affect your own sick or personal leave. His supervisors were absolutely wonderful (no, they don't read my blog) and told him to do what was necessary to make sure I was okay. All in all, he ended up taking almost two weeks off to care for me.

We went the day before surgery to do all my pre-op stuff. I was starting to have myself one doozy of a headache because there was no caffeine in my system. My health nut of a doctor requested that I walk two miles the night before surgery. I was informed this makes the body produce natural blood clotting properties and helps with surgery. I knew I couldn't walk two miles. See, my body had gotten so bad that walking was becoming quite an issue with me. Just standing at the sink to wash dishes or doing laundry would make my back feel like it was going to snap in two. Part of that is due to weight and a weird injury I did to it in my early 30's. I asked if swimming was allowed and was given the go ahead. Neighbor Debbie went with me to the pool so we could get my exercise going on. The pool was empty and all ours. We went from end to end dozens of times. We went from side to side in the shallow end walking and running. We were so exhausted when we finished, it was a chore to walk back to the truck to go home.

By the way, I did the nicotine test at my family doctor's office. I had no choice. I made her promise to call me if I failed (in case I hadn't waited long enough) and I would come right back in and do another one. I passed on the first try and she called to tell me. That was one proud moment I had right there.

I would also like to note that many people who have bariatric surgery are required to do liquid diets for a period of time before surgery. From what I've been told and have researched on my own, this is required to shrink the liver. Many obese people are diabetic and shrinking the liver is really important. See, they PULL the liver to the side and if it's all swollen and fatty? It could literally snap off. Snap. Off. I think I got a little nauseous typing that. I don't have diabetes or pre-diabetes (THANK YOU, JESUS!), so I didn't have that problem, but you can bet your fanny I cut the sweets out MANY days before surgery. Like a week early. I didn't want my liver snapping off.

I know I mentioned before that I take celexa for anxiety. Let's just say the night before, my anxiety was getting a tad high. Celexa starts at 20mgs. I can't take that much. It makes me all loopy and sleepy. So, daily, I take a half of a pill to make 10 mgs. It suits me perfectly and keeps me smooth. Yeah, Miss Hope took herself a full 20 mgs the night before surgery.

Getting up Thursday morning was blurry because that nerve pill was working its magic. I showered and used plain Dial bar soap. It's required to bathe with Dial because it's the greatest anti-bacterial around. I dressed comfortably because I knew I was wearing the same clothes home after surgery. I kissed and hugged my kids and tried to convince my anxiety stricken teenager that this was nothing and I would see them all in a couple of days.

The Man and I headed out in the dark with all the early morning commuters to the hospital.

Summer 2011 Part 3

2011-10-07T09:34:00.000-04:00

I came home from that fateful appointment and had much to think about. I was about to take drastic measures to help me lose weight. We talked with the girls (because The Boy isn't really old enough to get the whole gist of the situation) and answered questions that we could and basically tried to prepare them the best way we knew how.

I had to sit there and really think about the no smoking deal. Intellectually, I knew it had to be done or healing from the surgery would be awful. I basically chain smoked the rest of the night up until around midnight. It was a Friday night and for that last cigarette, Makenna followed me outside. I told her it was time. I gave her the pack of cigarettes I had left (around 3/4 of a pack) and told her to just take them away. She agreed, took them and went inside (I found out later she and her sister had themselves a large time destroying/shredding them and throwing them away). I then prayed and asked God to help me. I had smoked for so long that not smoking seemed foreign to me. I told Him I needed Him to take the want/need/desire for a cigarette away from me. I went to bed that night determined I wasn't going to smoke again and ruin my chances for this surgery.

I woke up the next morning and was fine. It wasn't hard to quit. Looking back, I think it wasn't hard to quit then (now is a different story-my cravings have gotten worse the longer I go without), because I knew it was time to do something about getting healthy.

Before I could count on this surgery being done, there were a few things I had to do on the preparation list. I had to have an EGD done. Now, I'm not so sure on what those letters stand for, but it had to be done the following Thursday morning. It's an outpatient surgery where they run a scope down your esophagus to check your throat and stomach for ulcers and other issues that could complicate a bariatric surgery. Gah, I was so nervous. I haven't had any surgeries other than a c-section seventeen years ago. They were going to put me to sleep!!!

The Man and I were at the hospital at 6:30 a.m. Come to find out, I wasn't even on the list?!? They took me and apparently put me first on the list because I was there so early. Fine by me. The adorable nurse anethesist (not so sure how this word is spelled as spell check doesn't recognize it) came by around 7:45 and we hit it off immediately. She said she was going to grab breakfast as Doctor C never got in before 8:00. Seriously? Then why on earth was I there so early??

Finally, around 8:15, they came to get me. They took me back to this small room and we were all chatting. I saw Doctor C come in the door from my peripheral vision and said, "What's happenin', Captain? One week smoke free! High five!" He laughed and gave me a high five and told the nurse anesthisit, "Hurry and sedate her before she starts talking." I looked at the nurse and said, "He's just worried I'll talk him into something else."

Next thing I remember, I was waking up in recovery about 40 minutes later and my husband was coming in. I am very vague about things after that. I do remember Doctor C coming in and telling me that I had a hiatel hernia. My stomach was trying to come up through my esophagus. Ahhhh...there explains the GERD I suffer from and the love affair with Nexium. He said he could fix it with surgery. Awesome. The rest of my stomach looked fine and he felt good about the upcoming surgery.

I was released and kind of remember calling my Daddy to tell him all was well. The rest of the day is pretty much a blur. Apparently, the anesthesia they use causes temporary amnesia. Nice.

I also decided to do the psychiatric consult. I had done one the year before for the surgery and would have been fine, but I felt that maybe I needed to just have one more. The seriousness of bariatric surgery is so great, that if you don't have it? You just don't understand.

Can I say I just thoroughly enjoyed that appointment? We both sat on her couch and chatted like we were old friends. We talked about the gastric sleeve and how important it was that rules are followed. She told me that I needed to prepare myself to mourn and grieve food. I heard her. My brain understood what she was saying. I just never knew how incredibly hard that could be (more on that in a future post). She invited me to come back if I felt I was having problems with my grief after surgery. I still may take her up on that.

I had three weeks until surgery. This food addict had some serious bidness to attend to, my friends. I had to do a food tour quicklike and in a hurry. I informed a couple of close friends that every weekend before surgery was important and there were places I HAD to eat before it was taken away forever. I have good friends. They fully supported this idea and I got to pick where we ate for the next three weekends. We ate Japanese steak house, Carraba's, and Red Robin (Yumm!). Each meal was amazing and I made sure to fully enjoy myself. Don't worry, I totally worked in Mexican food and a few other places high on my list also during that time.

The time up until surgery flew by, people. I am so glad Doctor C didn't require a two week liquid diet beforehand. Oh, Dear Baby Jesus and the sweet little lambs. The new doctor that has replaced him is strict and requires stuff like that. I so don't like him. All that was required was a 24 hour liquid diet before surgery. That was hard enough like it was. Jeesh. No caffeine was allowed (can you say headache???), either. No, I did not quit the caffeine before surgery. I sucked down Diet Coke like a madwoman up until I had to quit. I figured I was going to be on a morphine pump during the bad headaches and would come home with good drugs. Seriously, give me a break here. I had already given up the cigarettes. (ack...how defensive am I over this?)

I'd like to say at this point, I had a conversation with Makenna. She's twelve now and so incredibly intelligent. She has no weight problem at all and I secretly admire the heck out of her. I've watched her and she treats food like it should be treated. She eats when she's hungry and she stops when she's full. She doesn't over eat (unless it's a salad buffet-no joke). I told her that this was my adventure, not hers. While I really needed her support, I never wanted her to feel guilty for being able to eat something that I couldn't. I made her promise not to change and enjoy her food and life. She took me seriously and we were perfectly fine.

My surgery was scheduled for August 16, 2011. A big Tuesday. Whew. Friday, I hadn't heard from the surgery coordinator and I was tad bit worried. I was supposed to get the fine details from her before surgery. I had had one last visit with Doctor C the previous Thursday. Neighbor Debbie went with me as The Man had to take his son to a doctor's appointment at the same time. Doctor C hugged me when he came in the room and he treated Neighbor Debbie with full respect as part of my support team. He included her in the conversation and she liked him about as much as I did by the time we left.

I waited all day Monday to hear from the office and called a few times. They were moving their office across town so the phones lines were all messed up and communication was sketchy. Talk about making a person a nervous wreck?? Finally, she called at around 4 p.m. and this is what I heard...

"Hope, we have an insurance problem."

Summer 2011 Part 2

2011-10-04T08:30:00.001-04:00

I need to preface this with a few personal words to you all out in Internet Land. I'm sharing this story with you because there those of you out there who need to hear this. If you don't support the subject of my posts right now? Then so be it. If you put your nose up at bariatric surgery? Please, read my story and see if you change your mind. I promise this is as real and raw as it gets.

Where was I? Oh yes, the appointment for the bariatric surgeon was fast approaching. The day before my appointment, I went out on my back porch so Jesus and I could have us a private meeting. I prayed and told Him I was scared, but I knew the time had come to stop relying on myself because it had gotten me nothing but bad health and poor choices. I asked Him that if this was the way I was to go, then He would clear the path before me and show me that I was to do this without any doubts.

Be careful what you ask for.

The next day, July 22nd, The Man and I headed out to meet destiny. (How dramatic of me, huh?) Yes, I took my husband with me because he is my right hand (because I'm left handed) and my support system. We make as many decisions as we can together. It keeps conflict way down in our house. The doctor came in to sit and talk with us. He was around 6'3" and wearing slacks and a Hawaiian shirt. His hair was in need of trim and he was in his late 40's. I liked him on sight. We began talking and he got me. He's seen it all in his line of work, I'm sure, but his sense of humor and mine meshed perfectly.

I told him I wanted to talk about the gastric sleeve that I had been researching. (not sure how this print and font is turning out as of now. Please, click on "gastric sleeve" to see the procedure.) He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair and squinted his eyes. He slowly nodded and said that he could see that procedure working for me.

*What I am about to talk about may offend some people. I'm not apologizing for what I'm about to say because: 1. This is MY blog. 2. I'm not giving up my place in heaven to keep someone else's feelings smooth. *

I then asked him a few important questions. It went something like this...

Me: Do you believe in God?
He then proceeded to tell that not only did he believe in God, but how God had worked in his life up until this point.

Me: Do you pray before surgery or with your patients? Because if you don't have God up in your operating room? I got no business in there.
He then gladly told me that God let him in the operating room, not the other way around and that he was thrilled to pray with patients before surgery.

I looked at him and said, "I want you to do this surgery."

He smiled and said he would be honored to, but there was a problem. He was about to leave the practice and head off to start a new program. He was to be gone by the end of August. If I wanted the surgery, It would have to be within the next four weeks before he left.

~ numb face~

My husband sat there quiet until this point. He then pointed out that he was leaving for a 15 week class the beginning of September and that this just couldn't be done. We went in to this appointment thinking it was going to take six months (standard requirement of insurance) and that I would have the surgery when he came back from this class.

I wanted THIS doctor to do my surgery. Doctor C wanted to do my surgery.

Doc then told my husband that I needed two weeks to recover and could he work with me having it two weeks before he left. My husband agreed and then magic happened.

It was decided that since I had done a majority of the six month requirements the previous summer, I would not have to do it again. I am still in awe of how that Doctor C just made happen what needed to be done.

I then had to admit to this doctor my biggest failing. I smoked. Oh, how I hated to tell him that. He just sat back again in that chair and looked at me. "You think you can read people and then you get surprised," he said. He would have never guessed that I was a smoker. He then leaned forward and told me, "You have to quit. Now. I have a personal rule that if a patient is a smoker, they have to quit 30 days before surgery and I require a nicotine blood test done before surgery to prove it or I won't operate."

*gulp*

He went on to say, "I am going to break my personal rule because we don't have a month." I am humbled because I now know this man is all about the fitness and health and to break his rule? Was big.

Before I left that office, I had a surgery date of August 16, 2011. My husband and I sat in our vehicle in shock.

I had 3 1/2 weeks to prepare myself for a life changing event.

......to be continued...

Summer of Change, Choices, and a New Life

2011-09-29T08:51:00.000-04:00

Hi Everyone! I'm still here, believe it or not. I think I'm finally ready to blog again and once I explain, I think you'll understand why I haven't been on top of my blog game the past couple of months.

The Summer of 2011 has to be the most life changing summer of my life. Wait....that means the summer of '89 when I graduated high school and lived at the beach would be put to the wayside. Hmmm. Let's say the Summer of '89 was the BEST summer of my young life and the Summer of '11 was the life changing time, okay?

Where do I begin? We went on vacation in June with my life friend Lu and her family. We had a wonderful week of sand, laughing, golf cart riding, shopping, and eating. When we got home, regular life began again. The kids and I had doctor appointments of the regular kind. Makenna went and failed herself the skin allergy test. I'll try to remember to show a picture of that hot mess in another post. I went to my doctor to get medication refills and that's when the wind changed in my life.

I love my doctor. She is amazing and laid back and I would totally be friends with her in the "real world". We got to chatting and I looked her square in the eye and told her it was time to lose some weight. I was feeling old and tired...way beyond my years. She asked if I had considered bariatric surgery. I paused and then admitted that it had crossed my mind a time or two or thousand. She asked if I would be willing to talk with a bariatric doctor and I immediately agree. I had to confess that Summer of 2010, I started the process to have bariatric surgery at our local army base. I almost finished the process, but chickened out because I did NOT want to have any kind of surgery on a military base. (That's just me, guys, okay? If you don't know military medicine, then don't judge, please.) She said she would immediately put the referral in and I honestly didn't think much of it after that.

The next week, the first week of July, I got a call from the bariatric office to make an appointment for July 22nd. Wow. I was a tad surprised and maybe a tiny bit nervous the appointment was going to happen so fast. Trust me, that appointment came up on me quick.

Now, here's where I'm going to pause the story. It is so long and so involved and I have so many feelings and thoughts I want to share with you about this past Summer. I've decided I'm going to break it all down into parts and I PROMISE I will post in a timely fashion. There is so much stuff happening now, I can't afford NOT to post. You're missing out on my amazing children. I have a high school senior living in my house?!?! So many things going on there I need to share with you all.

I have to record this little snippet because I don't want to lose it. Last night my seven year old, my big boy, climbed up in my chair to sit with me so we could watch Survivor together. He was dressed for bed in a pair of pajama pants and pulled a blanket up with him so he could snuggle down to watch his show. I don't know what came over him, but he kept grabbing my chin with his little hand and turning/pulling me towards him so he could do loud smooching kisses on my cheeks. My son is not affectionate by nature. He is so like my Daddy in that aspect. You have to work hard to get love from that rascal. He kept smooching my cheek and getting so tickled. That, in turn, tickled me and Paige (who was sitting on the couch). I finally threatened to lick his face because he was being so sweet and he declared he didn't care. It was a very precious moment that I will treasure for always. He's growing so fast and is so independent...but for a little while, he was my baby again. The moment filled my heart to capacity.

You all come on back to the Edge. I'm going to take you on my journey I've started and who knows? There's no telling where we'll end up!

What an Edgy Summer thus Far

2011-07-06T11:34:00.000-04:00

I don't feel like I've slowed down since the summer started. I'll give you a brief re-cap of all the action we've had going on since the kids got out of school.

Last day of school, Neighbor Debbie showed up with her three kids. Why, you ask? Because Neighbor Greg got himself a job at the same company as The Man and I was going to have her here with me! I didn't say anything on the blog earlier because of "The Jinx". You get all excited and junk, and the universe steps in and laughs at you. I am excited to say, though, that they are living in the same neighborhood as we are and we are exactly .8 miles apart. We are two very happy women. I know we're meant to be friends because her family lived with us for almost a month while their house was being completed and we're all still alive! We did much walking through her house as it was being built/finished and observing details with slitted eyes. Many things were caught and fixed early but the builders hated us on sight. I know they had to have a champagne meal when closing happened and we weren't coming up with stuff on an hourly basis they needed to fix. Alas, they still have a year warranty to fix mistakes and we are not through looking yet. Every time I go over there (and that's quite a bit), I see a little something here and there that I draw to her attention and she takes note. Good times all the way around, Internets.

While the Neighbors were staying here, we went on a vacation to the beach in South Carolina. I did not take my laptop and it was quite a change not having my trusty 'puter near to my side. We went with Lu and her family and had quite the blast. I went in the ocean for the first time in twenty years and just thoroughly enjoyed myself. We did quite a few touristy things with the kids. Henna tattoos, zip lines, 20 story Ferris wheel rides, beach, pools, shopping, and golf cart riding. It was a full week that we needed badly. It was the first time in twenty years my husband wasn't rushing to go visit his family and rushing back to work. He relaxed and wore his new phone out playing games. I did way to much deck sitting and did not regret it one bit. I have quite a few pictures, but I'll address that in a moment.

We left the beach on Father's Day and headed back to my family (who live 30 miles from the beach). The Man was working with his company at another company in South Carolina that week, so we hung out at my parents for a visit. It was nice to have a few days to do some porch sitting with my Mama. On Tuesday, I took her all around shopping and out to lunch with my niece. We had ourselves a right large girl's time out. On Wednesday, I had to head home with the kids because real life just had to intrude with doctor's appointments and such.

Upon arriving home, I had to unpack/unload truck, catch up on Neighbor Debbie's house situation. We got home on Wednesday evening and they closed on their house on Friday. Suffice it to say, the next week was a blur as we helped by either painting or keeping the lovely Miss Nani (95 lbs. blond Lab) here with us and out of trouble. I am still a little dizzy by how fast things were moving.

Things may have started slowing down to where I could finally sit down and come talk to you and guess what happens?? MY LAPTOP DIED. Up and flippin' died on me. I am using The Man's computer at this moment and while it's sufficient? It ain't mine. He uses different programs and I'm set in my old ways and much prefer MY laptop and all the bells and whistles I know how to operate. Hopefully soon, he'll manage to get it to a facility that will fix it so I can ride the Internet in my own vehicle the way I like to do.

Oh, yes, many things going down this summer. Makenna failed the skin allergy test bigger than day. I have pictures of that mess. She starts allergy shots soon for who knows how long. Paige was allowed to get her nose pierced at the beach. What a story that is I'll have to share with you soon. Paige is also getting her wisdom teeth out in a week or so because they are impacted and her braces aren't going to work just right until those teeth are gone. Both girls have been selected to represent their orthodontist's office next week by singing the National Anthem at the Augusta Green Jackets baseball game, so this Mama has dragged the newly retired chorus teacher (Makenna's teacher last year) away from selling her home and packing up to train the girls with the new chorus teacher so they're comfortable and ready to represent the right way. Makenna starts her second golf class this evening because golf is her thang. School starts back in a month so there's preparation for that since my son will be attending a brand new school (we were re-zoned). My saving grace there is that his 5K and 1st grade teachers are also moving to the new school so my routine lovin' ADHD kid will have someone he's familiar with as an anchor. Paige will be starting her senior year and I'm the one having issues with that while I'm sure she has some kind of ticker hidden somewhere from me that has the countdown to graduation and her turning 18.

Hmmm...I'm about to think I may need to up my nerve medication a tad bit, don't you think? I have another single parenting gig to do before the year is out as The Man has a 15 week course (THAT ISN'T HERE) he has to complete for his job. I got this. This isn't my first rodeo and I have a teenager that has a license so I'm not afraid of any bull!

You will pray for me, right?

And I promise to provide some really awesome pictures when I get my laptop up and running again.

Water Deal!

2011-05-25T10:25:00.000-04:00

My son will most probably be quite ill with me for sharing this with the world later on in life, but it's just a good thing I have to share with my close and personal Internet friends.

How many of you have issues getting your child to drink water? Oh, this has been such a hard battle for us around the house. My poor baby has intestinal issues due to his medication. ADHD medication can make a person very constipated and miserable. Daily, we have to slip a little of the generic miralax in his juice to hopefully help him "keep things moving". No joke, he's only been using the bathroom in that capacity once a week. On Saturday mornings. Like clockwork. I've had to go pick him up from school because of this issue and his stomach was hurting so badly he would sit on the potty and wail like a wounded bear. Are you feeling sorry for him yet? I know it breaks my heart on a regular basis because, DANG, that's just miserable, man.

The last visit to the dentist to get his teeth cleaned showed his teeth could be doing better. Gah, I hate when they put you on the spot and ask you how much water your child drinks. I do what any parent does, I hem and haw and try to avoid answering. But, they know. They know I'm not forcing water down his throat by any means possible. It makes me so ashamed.

Summer vacation started last week around Friday. Monday, as the first full week started, he started asking for soda to drink. I don't mind him drinking a little diet coke here and there, but there was no way I was going to let that be the ONLY liquid he put in his system all day long. The Man had purchased some 32 oz. water bottles a few months ago. Paige takes one daily to school to try and make her water quota. That smart sister got out the other one and told him they were going to have a contest to see who could drink a full one first. I sat back and let her work her magic. Of course, The Boy rose to the challenge because he's seriously competitive (he gets that from both his parents). A little may have spilled in the bathroom sink, but he truly drank most of the bottle. I was amazed and was very vocal about how awesome he was for drinking all that water.

That one day was awesome, but how was I going to get this to work the rest of the summer???

Tuesday morning found my boy up in the bathroom. That water worked it's magic on his system and, as the saying goes, "he got his oil changed". He was all skippy-do after that. Feeling good and sipping water. He started asking for some Diet Dr. Pepper he saw in the fridge and I told him when he finished his water, he could have some. Game on. By mid afternoon, that water was gone (I suspect a few ounces may have spilled down the bathroom sink again, but he seriously drank most of the water.)

Yesterday was hilarious. All that water coursing through his system was doing a great job and he was so gassy. If he wasn't burping? It was out the other end. I was ecstatic because this meant he was getting what his body needs and maybe, just maybe, if he kept this up? We could skip that powder in his breakfast juice.

Every few minutes, we would hear him say, "Excuse me!" as yet more gas escaped his body. Finally, he came up to me and was just tickled to pieces, all little boy giggly and he exclaimed, "I'M SO GASSY AND BURPY TODAY!!" I laughed and agreed and we both got tickled together.

This morning, I got up and fixed his breakfast with his cup of powder free apple juice. I went ahead and fixed his water bottle to put beside his plate. Without a word, he ate his breakfast, took his medication, and grabbed that spill-proof water bottle (whew! no spills!) to head on about his day. He keeps it within reach and will sip on it as he does his thing. He believes that if he can drink that water, he can get a little bit of soda in the afternoon/evening time to enjoy. And believe me, he thoroughly enjoys that soda like it's fine champagne.

I hope and pray I can keep this up and it becomes a habit with him. Since he has fallen in love with golf (another post soon), I have stressed that he will definitely need to keep that water bottle close when he and Dad go golfing since it's so hot here. He agrees whole heartedly because he was "sweatin' t'death" last Saturday morning when they went to play around.

Now I have to convince the tween that water is a good idea for her, too. It'll help with that acne stuff trying to come through on her forehead. I personally am not a fan of the water, but am a HUGE fan of the Crystal Lite and drink loads of that each day.

You do all realize that my son will probably keep drinking the water if he realizes it's the reason he's so gassy. Because little boys and a gassy body are best friends. Nothing cooler than the gas...or funnier.

Is it really a gift?

2011-05-18T13:00:00.000-04:00

I have a gifted family. Well, that's what the tests say. It's not a brag, either. Dealing with gifted people on a regular basis can be hard, Internets. I know first hand. See, I used to be gifted. I was in gifted classes all through school from 2nd grade through high school. I was so smart I was stupid. My Mama will be more than happy to testify that I'm telling the truth.

Paige and Makenna both are in gifted classes and have been since early ages. Now that Paige is in high school, she's ignored her abilities somewhat and The Man and I have to show our butts, get all strict discipline and mean to get the right results. Wears us out on a regular basis. Paige is quite funny, too. She can't stand stupidity. It is like one of her major pet peeves. Since she was young, she's been able to carry on a decent conversation with adults. She has an air of maturity about her that is quite scary when people guess her to be in her 20's and she's ...say 14. (Imagine how it is now that she's 17.) I know teenagers believe themselves to be experts on any and every thing there is in life. Add in being gifted and you got yourself a hard road to ride some times.

I believe I am no longer gifted. Thank Goodness! The Lord had mercy up on me because some one in this house has to have some common sense!!! I am perfectly fine with this but it does give me a headache at times when my smart people go too far out of the thinking box.

A few weeks ago we were outside in the back yard flying kites. My son has become obsessed with kites and their flying glory. I appreciate the local W*lmart selling them for a buck, too. As Paige was helping her little brother, she started telling us about what happened in science class that day.

Story goes:

Teacher asked the class how many transformers there are and what are their names.

My child immediately shoots her hand up in the air (I personally want to picture a Horseshack kind of thing going on here) and exclaims that she knows!

She then smugly tells the teacher and the class:

"There are two transformers. Autobots and Decepticons."

And sits back confident in her answer.

The teacher looks at her. The students look at her.

That wasn't the answer.

If you don't get this, Internets? I'll be praying for you. If you DO get this? Please, be praying for me.

After I caught my breath from laughing, I declared, "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my gifted child!"

Forty is the way to go

2011-05-17T10:30:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm officially forty years old. Yep, it happened last week on Friday the 13th. I didn't really know how I felt about turning such a momentous age. I still don't. I don't feel any different than I did last week when I was 39, but I've been warned that some kind of signal goes off in your body when you hit 40 and things start acting funky and maybe even breaking down. This is where I stubbornly refuse to discuss how far away I have to put something out so I can read it.

It all started the week before Easter. I kid you not. Lu and her family were coming to spend Easter with us as has become our tradition. I toyed with going to South Carolina for the holiday since we haven't visited since February (life gets so busy!). Lu said she wanted to come here and The Man said he wanted to hang at home. I shrugged and agreed, wasn't a big deal to me. I found out that week that The Man's cousin from Tennessee was coming for a visit as her son is stationed here at the local army base and she wanted to see him. Shoot, the more the merrier is what I say! Thing is, H. (said cousin's name) is a "clean 'em up" kind of gal. If you got a mess? She'll clean it. It used to bother me years ago, but I know it's how she rolls and I have come to accept it. Still, I wanted my house clean as possible so she wouldn't feel compelled to do much while she was here. It became necessary for my dining room to be painted and finished before Easter weekend.

So began a hard 4 days of work to paint and get it all straight while cleaning house. That Man took off a couple of days from work so he could focus on the dining room. He was like a man possessed, I tell ya! I was totally impressed with how dedicated he was to finishing this room because he's not usually in the same frame of mind as I am when it comes to getting projects done. Makenna stayed home from school (because she had plenty of days) to help me clean on Friday before everyone arrived. People started rolling in that evening and the good times started! It was noisy and loud and full of kids and adults laughing. Perfect. (And just so you know? I find it kind of but not really funny that I ended up cleaning for my own party. Just sayin'.)

That Saturday, Lu and I had made plans for an afternoon just for us. We haven't had any time just to ourselves in a very long time and we were hitting the town. Evening plans were for us to come back, grab the men and head to Carrabas as that's our "date" place to go when she and her husband are in town. Let me tell you, I was right excited because I do love that place with good eating. We spent an hour or so getting manicures and pedicures then headed out to shop. I mentioned a few times that we needed to head back around 4 so we could get to the restaurant early before the crowd hit. Little did I know she was texting the men like crazy telling them to help her stall me. My husband called and said he had called the restaurant and we had reservations for 6 p.m. Cool, that meant more time to shop!

Finally, it was time to head back to the house. When we drove up, I saw many vehicles, but really didn't think much of it. We had a lot of people staying that weekend. When I walked in, I didn't see anyone but my husband sitting in his recliner. I made the comment that it looked like there was a party at my house with all the cars when I glanced into the kitchen. I saw my friend Kim standing there and I thought "That's Kim. What is she doing here?" That's when a huge group of people jumped out and yelled SURPRISE! My husband had thrown me a surprise 40th birthday party. I was floored. I had no clue whatsoever. Apparently, he had been planning this party for a month and a half with all my friends in cahoots with him. It was surreal and just awesome. Want to be even more impressed? Dude got it catered. There was a spread of food in my kitchen from a favorite restaurant of ours (Sticky Fingers- ribs, chicken, slaw, mac-n-cheese...good stuff). He had ordered five cheesecakes from a place that makes the best cheesecakes in the world instead of a birthday cake. He had seriously thought of everything. I could not have asked for a better party, Internets.

I would like to also state that maybe a few times during the party I loudly made the comment: "You do all realize that I am 39 years and 49 week-ish old, right? RIGHT?" Everyone was kind and gracious and conceded that I was still a lovely 39 and looking nowhere near 40.

The party was held early because my husband had to leave for a class up North on Mother's Day for two weeks. He missed my actual birthday (and, yes, I was sad), but when duty calls and the paycheck depends on it, you do what you have to do. (I am SO ready for him to get home this Friday!) He is still right smug over pulling this over on me and I'm letting him be as smug as he wants to be because he totally earned it.

That wasn't the end of The Celebration. Oh, no no no. If you thought it was? Then you must not know Miss Hope. No sir, I claim at least two days for a birthday. Three if my birthday falls on Mother's Day (and it will yet again next year). It only seemed fitting that turning 40 should claim at least four days, don't you agree?

Friday the 13th dawned clear with promise of a good day ahead of me. Carla Girl was claiming me for a lunch date with a little bit of shopping thrown in for good measure. First, I had to go to my son's school to see him perform in a classroom play where he had a speaking part! I had to record every single minute so Dad can see it when he gets home. I took my job seriously and did my best to get every single cute second. After that, I had to roll over to the middle school to rescue my daughter's cell phone. She forgot to put it on vibrate and it went off in class. Fair enough. While I was there, I found out she had to serve an hour of detention for having the phone. Do you know how I feel about kids having phones at school? Mine will. I'm still haunted by Columbine all those years ago. Makenna was devastated she had to do ~shudder~ DETENTION, but I told her to buck up and serve. It wasn't like the end of the world. Just remember to turn the thing off from here on out (as I handed it back to her all ninja-like). *She has since served detention with the P.E. Coach in charge who talked golf with her and then made her write about golf, then stopped her after she hit four pages. I think she had a good time?*

Back to the Birthday Story. (I tried to tell you my life has been crazy busy!) I finally finished my business at the schools and met Carla Girl at my house where we took off for some fine lunch dining. For you golf fans out there, I waved at the Augusta National as we drove by on the way to the restaurant near by. She had a hat for me to wear, with awesome glasses. As we ordered our diet cokes, she proceeded to bring out the napkins from her purse, along with another little table topper. I laughed and just enjoyed the meal. We headed to Macy's afterwards where I did, indeed, wear the hat with glasses perched on top all through the store. I even had the Happy Birthday Song sung to me in the middle of Macy's. Can YOU say that's ever happened to you? We hit a few more stores before I headed back to the house.

Neighbor Debbie rolled in that evening. She had been asking me for months what I wanted for my birthday and I just kept telling her all I wanted was for her to be here to share it with me. She threatened that she was going to give me a bucket full of circus peanuts if I didn't get my act together and tell her something. Wait until you see the pictures. Lu, Tiffany, and kids rolled in Saturday morning to share the rest of the weekend. This would be day three of celebration. Let's see......Neighbor Debbie, Paige, Lu, Tiffany, and myself headed out to get ourselves a pedicure. I'm so glad we caught the salon at a good time because we owned that place for a couple of hours. We all got funky designs on our toes, a few brows got waxed, and SOME people who will remain nameless will be getting more pedicures in the future since they shaved enough dead skin off the bottom of feet to make at least 3 small children. *ewww* There was lots of laughter and smack talk going around.

That evening we took all 13 people who were in this house to a local pizza place. The kids were thrilled and the smaller ones got to play in the game room. The adults sat around the table gabbing until we had to leave or someone was going bust a gut from laughing or over eating. We ended the evening with the adults around the kitchen table telling tales from our childhood and past. Neighbor Greg was a good sport about being around all the women and even had a few stories of his own to share. We went to bed late but tired and happy. I'll claim Sunday as my 4th day of celebration because we woke up to drink coffee and even more talking and laughing over breakfast. Man, that was a good weekend. It would have been perfect had my husband been here.

So, now I'm 40. I celebrated it thoroughly from beginning to end and then some. Did I mention that when I got home from lunch with Carla Girl, I then donned the tiara Paige wore to her party? Yeah, and I wore it to pick up my son's prescription and through the McDonald's drive-thru to pick up some supper. That's how I roll, man. I don't have pictures from my party because there's none on my camera! I know some pictures were taken, I just have to find out who took them and get copies.

Just so you know, I don't feel old. I feel seasoned. Heh heh. Yeah, seasoned. That's it. We're still not going to talk about how reading fine print is almost not an option for me anymore.

Enjoy the few pictures I managed to get!

I was rolling in style! There's a button on the side of the hat that says "Another Year of Fabulous!". The glasses were hard to wear but worked perfectly on top of the hat. Yes, I got a few looks in stores, but it was all good!

The menu from where we ate, table topper (which now sits beside my chair here at home), and napkins. Carla Girl believes in themes and I thought it was awesome! It sure helped me score an awesome free dessert.

Okay, about the circus peanuts. My Grandma always had these in her candy dish so I've loved them my whole life. Yes, I know they're pure sugar, but now they're more for the memories than the sugar rush. When the Chief's Wives club I was in did secret pals, I put these as my favorite and would get them all the time and loved it! Now, this vase they're in? Was one I dearly wanted so SCORE for getting the peanuts -it took 8 bags to fill this vase up- AND the vase that is gorgeous.

This is the birthday card Neighbor Debbie did for me. It has to be the most AWESOME card I have ever seen in my life. There's alot of thought and work put into this card, not to mention good candy that may or may not be shared with loved ones. I know I can't keep the candy forever, but you can bet your butt I'm going to hang onto the bestest birthday card EVAH.

Beautiful 17

2011-05-06T09:58:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know it's been too long since my last post. I can apologize all day long but it has been crazy here! Since my last post, Paige turned 17 along with having an amazing birthday party, my husband threw me a surprise early birthday party (!!!), Easter happened, car wrecks, awards ceremonies, and some home improvement projects. I warned you it's been crazy!

This post is going to be dedicated to my beautiful now 17 year old daughter. I think this is the first time I've had a problem with my child's age. She's seventeen. That's one year from being eighteen, you know. Ahhh, eighteen, the magical age where you are a legal adult and can spread your wings and try to fly. She's right excited about that magical age, too.

I am so conflicted over my prematurely born baby growing up. I totally get how you blink and they're grown and gone. My years with her have truly flown by. Okay, that's a lie. There have been a few times that I may have stated that if I get this kid grown and gone, I'm throwing myself a big party to celebrate. I also have to laugh because this sister is her mother's child. I see myself all over her at that age. She's fiercely independent with opinions that usually don't agree with mine and her dad's. She has her own political thoughts and I'm pretty sure she's muttered that we are archaic about ours under her breath. It's all good. It shows that I haven't raised a person to enter society believing everything she hears without going on missions to find the truth for herself.

Paige asked me around February if she could have a 17th birthday party. I immediately said yes because her 16th birthday wasn't the greatest. We hadn't been living here but a few months and she really didn't know enough people to even have a party last April. I felt so badly for her as most of the kids in this area have Sweet Sixteen parties. You want to talk about a Mama who ached for her child? I sure did when I moved her in the middle of her sophomore year from a school and friends she loved dearly. (That situation would fall under parental decisions you don't want to ever have to make in your child's life.) My baby has had a rough year adjusting to living in this new place. I'm so glad to say that I think she's finally found her niche and her sparkling personality and will be just fine until she graduates.

We started planning at that moment and about a month before the party, we started to seriously think of themes and decorations. She finally decided she wanted to go with a zebra stripe and lime green for her colors. Then began the hunt on the internet to see what we could find. Okay, for the record? Zebra stripe is some popular stuff and if you want to use it at your own party? Order it weeks in advance. Boxes started arriving a couple of weeks before the big party day and Paige, Makenna, and I were so excited to open them and see the goodies we had ordered. Did I mention there was some disco ball added up in the mix of things? Little did I know that you could make a facebook event of the whole deal. That wasn't good enough for me. Parties need invitations. Call me old school, I don't care. Carla Girl whipped me up a template for her invitations and emailed them to me. We printed up post cards of red carpet and disco ball goodness for her pass out the week before the big date.

I decided to keep the menu sweet and simple. I gotta give a small shoutout to Walmart for this post. Did you know if they have a deli, there are affordable party foods you can order? Neighbor Debbie used some of Walmart's deli skills for Neighbor Greg's retirement and I decided to check them out for Paige's party. You can order six foot long sandwiches for twenty five bucks. I ordered three and when The Man went to pick them up, they gave him three more because the fresh baked bread they make the sandwiches out of wasn't as wide as they would have liked. Those sandwiches were amazing but we were sure tired of eating them a week later. I went to Sam's Club and bought chex mix, chips, and a nifty beverage station (pictures of that one). Add in a pack or two of cookies, along with the cake, and that was the menu.

The party was a huge success and she had between 20-30 teenagers come to party. The party was held at our neighborhood clubhouse. It was perfect and spacious for those loud kids to have a good time. Can I just say that I am beyond impressed with the friends my child has picked? There were six adult chaperones because this gal remembers being seventeen, if you know what I mean. This group of kids were absolutely fabulous. They laughed and danced and sang and ate. They were polite and gracious. No one tried to sneak out and come back in. It was a pure pleasure to have them at my child's party. Neighbors' Debbie and Greg, and new friends James and Sherry were just as amazed as The Man and myself over how wonderful this group of kids behaved and acted. Everyone considered the party a complete success and I had one happy girl when all was said and done.

Now, I have to take a deep breath and brace myself for this last year before 18. I will be truly excited over Senior pictures and all the crazy things that high school seniors get to take part. I already catch myself sneaking extra looks in my child's direction. I want to treasure this year and hold it close so when she's ready to fly...I'll be able to let her.

Oh, and just to show how exciting this year has been for her since she turned 17 on April 14th? She's gotten into her first fender bender. My heart stopped when she called to let me know, but she had wonderful cops (seriously, they were just awesome), and her worries that Mama and Daddy were going to be furious (we weren't. It was an ACCIDENT and she was okay...so we're okay). It traumatized my Drama Llama and Miss Scarlett had to take to her boudoir for the rest of the evening to recover. (It was literally a tap kind of thing, but the Loser Cruiser (the vehicle she has to share with The Man) is going to need some cosmetic work before hitting the highway again.)

We also found out yesterday that she has passed the state of Georgia's Graduation Exam!!! With honor and advanced scores!!! When she showed me the test scores there was alot of girl squealing all around and high fives and hugs. She will totally enjoy her Senior year now with that out of the way. We are so proud of her for this accomplishment. Poor kid has issues with math (like her Mama) and she has struggled with understanding and passing. Get this, though. She got an honor score in that subject! That's my girl.

Now, I shall share a few pictures of the party with you.

Here's the Birthday Girl in the lovely tiara Mama D (Neighbor Debbie) bought her for the occasion. She was the Belle of the Ball!

Ahhh, the cake table. We used fiber optic pieces all over the clubhouse so when it got dark, they were a huge hit! I kept the decorating simple, yet chic. I hope. The napkins are zebra stripes on the edge of white napkins with lime green napkins mixed in to make cute piles.

Look at this cake. It was simply amazing. I may have flinched a little when paying for it, but it was worth it! Everyone took pictures of it and we all seriously hated to cut it when the time came. Do you like the bling scattered around the bottom?

Again, simple decorations. These balloons are HUGE. When I saw the disco ball balloon, I just could not resist. Try riding around town with these bad boys up in the back bouncing around.

This is the food table. Simple food, but teenagers are not picky. They all ate well and enjoyed fixing their own sandwich to their liking. (One kid ate like 3 or 4 sandwiches and had to go home early. We wondered if his Mama fed him?)

The beverage table. Paige was a tad alarmed when she found out I was only serving lemonade. I informed her that I wasn't taking all these kids to raise (Southern for- I'm not providing a ten course meal.) She worried that they wouldn't like the lemonade. I splurged and ordered the lime green plastic wine glasses. Sharpies were provided so you could put your name on your cup and decorate to your heart's content. I was doing that to prevent them from wasting cups. Apparently, that was the biggest hit of the evening. They totally dug being able to decorate their cups.

The Beverage Station. You should have seen these kids. I promise I made around 8-9 gallons of lemonade (big container bought from Sam's). It was fancy and cute and they couldn't get enough. I kind of want to think they drink soda as a staple and the lemonade was something different. Add in the fanciness with a spout, and you've got happy kids. We kept seeing them make toasts and clink their "wineglasses" together. Debbie and I have decided we're going to fill this bad boy up with kool-aid this summer and put it on the back porch so the kids can play outside and not come in the house. ha ha

Front view of the food tables with the chaperones hanging out in the kitchen. We were able to visit and hang out the entire time. After it got dark, we let them turn the lights down and the fiber optic centerpieces were glowing along with the strobe lights I may have purchased. They danced and sang until time to go home.

** Just note that I am right nervous to post my pictures of my decorating abilities. I come from a long line of church women who have thrown many parties and get togethers. If I failed? I am a shame to the family. Yeah, I'm feeling a little okay. (Note also that I didn't get elaborate with decorating because coming from that same line of decorators have shown me that you still have to clean up at the end of the night. See? I was right smart about the whole thing, really.) I also have lots of pictures of teenagers having a good time, but no permission to post their pictures. I'm sure you understand.

We have Lucky Number 7!!

2011-04-10T10:35:00.000-04:00

Here I go again. I'm doing my best to earn that Mother Of The Year title...not. My baby turned 7 on April 2nd. That was like a week and a day ago. Thing is, the kid's Spring Break happened last week and I just enjoyed being with my kids. We had a power outage on Tuesday that last well into the afternoon and I got to see my kids actually communicate and show off their UNO skills. That was my favorite day. It was probably the first Spring Break we thoroughly enjoyed. No rushing. No plans. Just letting the days happen. Yeah, it was awesome.

Now, about that Boy of mine. He is seven. How did that happen? I just had him like a month or so ago?!? I don't know how those of you with more than one kid keep it all "even" between your kids, but I don't sweat it at all. Paige is getting the big amazing birthday party this year. (O-M-Geeeee!! Wait til you hear what's going on with that!!!) We sat with the other two and told them they wouldn't be having parties because it was Sissy's turn this year. Do my kids care? Nope, not at all. They know they'll get a present or two and Mama will have some sort of special kind of cake going on that day. All is good. I am one blessed parent to have three kids that aren't jealous of each other.

Just because a party wasn't happening doesn't mean the day wasn't going to be super duper special. My boy woke up to get his first present and pancakes made by Dad. We had a relaxing morning until it was time to get dressed and head to Mouse's House and I ain't talking D*sney, Internets. I'm talking about Chuckie's house where all the fabulous games reside! He has been begging to go there for almost a year and we thought his birthday was the perfect excuse to go visit. (Truth be known, we were not the excited ones. That place is a flippin' madhouse.) My boy isn't about pizza, so he was all for the games. We went. We played. We had an awesome time. Afterwards, we hit up the Chinese buffet that we love and adore. Home was where we headed to open the last present of the day and enjoy some amazing cake. The Boy informed us that it was one of the best days ever. 7th Birthday= Success. A Mama sure likes to have a happy Birthday Boy.

Happy Birthday, Kid. You are the joy in my steps and when you smile, my heart skips a happy beat.

Everyone should have the chalkboard for the fridge. This is what my son woke up to and a week later, it's still there!

How do you make a birthday better? Spread the opening of gifts over the day. We are aware that all the gifts are green. Did you expect any other color? Really? This was the first gift of the day. I picked out this really cute card and he opened it, read it, and looked at me and said.."What??? No dollar??"

There were plenty of these to go around. We are an arcade loving family and we all play games. So why it may have been a madhouse in there? We got our play on and those tokens went fast!

This is the shirt from last year. It fit this year and there's nothing wrong with representin'!

What focus! What determination! Seriously, though? Kid needs to grow another foot or two so he can reach the pedals and not bust a blood vessel trying to play.

The sisters got in some quality game time, too. This was a tag team effort with the basketballs.

Mama had a little fun with this game. It was seriously addictive. I may have to join a support group.

I had my eye on The Boy and when I glanced up, I saw my husband throwing a few footballs. Games are so hard to resist.

This is my favorite picture. He is so happy and content and I suppose contemplating a wish or two here. I love this guy to pieces. I really do.

Differences

2011-03-30T08:32:00.000-04:00

When I was pregnant with Makenna, I had many people tell me that you simply can't compare your children. I got that. I understood it. I still do. Now that I have three children, I get it more than ever. I have never in my life seen three such different individuals.

Here are a couple of ways I can't compare these three.

Paige turned two in April. By October she was potty trained. She had a brief stubborn period where she would only wear diapers, then she woke up one day and was done with them. Off to the pretty panties we went and didn't look back!

Makenna turned two in February. For a solid year I struggled to potty train that kid. I begged. I pleaded. I threatened. It was a very hard year. I truly thought she would start school wearing a diaper. The week before her third birthday, I put my foot down. I told her I was done with the pull-ups and the accidents and she was GOING TO POTTY. She was fully trained in one week. One week. I supposed she believed me to be serious and the crazy look in my eyes probably convinced her she better head on to the potty.

I've potty trained a few kids in my life being a childcare provider for years. I knew right off the bat that boys could be a tad bit more difficult and that if you got them trained before the third birthday? You earned some kind of trophy that was at least 8 feet tall. I wasn't even going to attempt with my son until his third birthday because I felt he wouldn't be still long enough to stand in front of a toilet (gotta love undiagnosed ADHD). In March, before he turned three in April, he just up and decided one day to potty. Within a week or two he was pretty much fully trained. I really didn't have to do a thing but wipe his butt on occasion. He was the easiest child I've ever trained. Shoot, he practically trained himself. I will always love him extra good for that.

The girls have always been excellent in school. Behaviour wise, that is. I had one little issue with Paige around the 5th grade where she got sassy with a teacher. After I made her apologize to the teacher in front of the class while sobbing, I've never had another problem out of her. Except for last year at the new high school. Not sure if I ever told that story. I'll have to check my archives and if I haven't, I'll ask her if it's okay. Man, that's a good story. Makenna is a "pleaser" and is too good at flying under the radar.

Then we have The Boy.

I have gotten so many calls from teachers and bus drivers in the past two years than I care to remember. Ahhhh...he's such a pistol. I really think if those seats on the buses had seat belts? We wouldn't have as many problems on buses. If you're out of your seat belt? You're off the bus. My son still rides in a booster seat. Yes, he's almost 7. He's also not big enough according to guidelines to hold his own in a seat with just a seat belt. He is totally cool with it as he has a very nice seat to sit in. He's up where he can see out of the window. He has a cup holder to hold his juice. He's only 52 pounds and pretty much still a baby in my eyes. Shoot, Neighbor Debbie's dog weighs almost twice what he does. The freedom of the bus just sends him over in to Hyper Land. Suffice it to say, after a call yesterday from the bus driver and a visit from an upset Mama at my front door...he might just stay in his seat. For a while. He and his Dad had a "Come to Jesus" meeting last night in my bedroom. He's lost all his electronics and had to go to bed 30 minutes early. Gotta snap down on poor choices, you know. I followed him out to the bus this morning to make sure he apologized to the bus driver for not listening. He tried to walk past her to his seat and I put one foot on the step and said, "Boy, you know I am crazy. I will follow you up there in front of God and your friends. You are going to apologize." He came back down the steps to have a stare down with me. I simply told him that I was going to count to three and if he didn't do what he was told? He and his Dad could have another meeting this evening. Up came finger one. He turned around and went to his bus driver to apologize. I know he has "issues" but I will not tolerate bad behaviour. Not at all.

I may be rambling a bit today, but I just get amused when I am reminded just how different three siblings can be at times. I know my brother and I are literally night and day so it shouldn't be such a surprise.

April Showers have come early here and with flair! Hope you all find yourselves enjoying some type of Spring. I've got some new stuff for the house coming and can't wait to share my feeble attempts at decorating with you soon!

How it was and How it is now

2011-03-28T10:04:00.000-04:00

Let's go back in time for a few, shall we? I say about 20-25 years. Now, my kids would say that's a LONG time ago. Not so much for me anymore.

Remember back in the day those nifty land line phones? You know, they were attached to the wall and you could only go as far as the cord would let you? Yeah, good times. I remember in our first home when I was growing up, having one phone. The cord wasn't really that long and I would spend my time chatting with friends sitting in a chair at the kitchen table or laying on the floor there in the hallway. I LOVED when there was a phone with a super long cord. You could twirl that line and play pretend jump rope while talking or wrap yourself like a candy cane and unwrap yourself a thousand times during a conversation. We moved into a new home when I was twelve and my parents put a phone jack in MY ROOM. That was like the most awesome thing EVAH. Until it got taken away. On a regular basis. (I was that kid.) That was about the time we moved on from the rotary goodness to push buttons. I remember the first phone I had in my room was push buttons, but it was still "rotary". It would make that schticking noise after every number and you would have to pause between numbers to make sure they all went through.

Best thing about those land line phones? You always knew where the dang phone was at all times. No hunting down a missing handset or pressing the paging button and playing marco polo all over the house looking high and low. Landlines never lost charge, either. That's why I still keep a land line phone in my bedroom. I can't tell you how many times I hear that dreaded beep in my ear letting me know my battery is low when my conversation is nowhere near finished. I then head to my room to lay across my bed in old fashioned teenage style and finish talking.

My kids have no idea. None whatsoever. All they know is that they can talk to whom ever they please at any time because if their phone doesn't have charge, then someone close by will have theirs charged and good to go. It's amazing how much a lifestyle can change in just 20 years.

Neighbor Debbie and I talk on the phone quite a bit. Back when I was living in Southeast Georgia, we were on the phone one day when a bad storm came up. One of us mentioned how we needed to get off of the phone before we got electrocuted. Then the other one of us pointed out that we were on cordless phones. After we finished laughing, we recounted growing up and how you weren't allowed to talk on the phone during a storm because you truly could get electrocuted if lightning hit the ground it traveled up the line to your ear. I actually know of someone this happened to back in the day. It then became a long standing joke between us and I almost want to think we make a point to talk on the phone during storms now just to prove we can't get electrocuted through the cordless wonders we are speaking.

Yesterday, we had a bad storm here. A while later, I happened to be on the computer and was checking the weather. I noticed the storm was then in her area and looked like it was just as bad as when it was visiting us earlier. I jumped up and sent the following text message:

"HEY! don't touch the phone...it's stormin' outside!!"

A few minutes later, I got this reply:

"OMG then why did u text me. I could of gotten kilt that way too!!!" (uh..kilt = killed)

I then started laughing because we're just so stupid. Paige was at the kitchen table doing some school work and asked what was so funny. I then told her and she just looked at me. Said not a word. Shook her head and went back to work.

I had no choice but to send this text:
"just so you know...paige thinks we ain't right"

Ahhh....this poor generation. What fun things they've missed out on. I used to leave my house and not have any contact with my parents until I got home. I don't know how they let me go like they did. I asked The Man if he could imagine sending our kids out for the night without a cell phone. His reply? "I can only because we did it. Will they be allowed to go out with out a cell phone? No." Good answer, my man.

If the good Lord blesses me with another twenty years? I can't wait to see what modern marvels today's generation will come up with for us to enjoy!

P.S. Now I'm tempted to go get a land line phone to put in the kitchen with a looooong cord on it for old time's sake.

One of those moments

2011-03-24T09:28:00.000-04:00

I had a moment around last week or so. I don't know how it happened, but I forgot to give my son his medication before he went to school. This has happened a couple of times and each time, it proves to me that he needs these two little pills each and every morning. He is so blessed to have such a wonderful teacher. Where she finds all her patience baffles me because she surely has her hands full with her class of first graders.

I received a call from her around noon one day. "Her Boy" was being a pistol in class. He refused to do any of his work and was just being an all around PITA (pain in the ...uh...butt. She didn't say this, I did.). She asked him if he took his medicine and he "thought so but wasn't sure". I immediately went to his daily medication holder and there sat that days medication. Crap. I told her to have him ready and I would come get him. See, he simply can't handle the pressure of the classroom without those stupid pills. I told her from day one that if he wasn't medicated, her life would end up being miserable and I'm not going to have her focusing 150% on him when she has other students she has to teach also.

I went to the school to pick him up and I just love that kid. He has a twinkle in his eye and is just full of spit and vinegar. We ran a couple of errands while I was out and everything seemed to be okay. We got home and I had picked him up some lunch (this would be his second lunch). He had to finish his work from class that day that he refused to do during class time. I told him he was not going to do anything until that sheet (front AND back) was done.

Me and Jesus got alot closer, Internets.

It was quite a few problems, both math and language, that had to be done on that sheet of paper. It took us two and a half hours to finish that paper. I am totally serious. I was flustered, hot, worn out, and sad by the time we finally finished every single problem. There was a few places that required coloring with crayons. That didn't happen.

After we finished, I let The Boy do a fun thing or two. It wasn't his fault he didn't take his medication. He wasn't being "bad" in class...just hard to handle. I emailed his teacher to let her know that the sheet was done and how long it took to finish it. I also told her that I could not apologize enough to both her and myself over him being unmedicated. I finished with a promise to tape his medicine to my forehead at night so we would remember each morning.

This makes me so dang sad. I've been so positive over him having to take medication and how wonderful it's been for him. And it has. Truly. I don't want my son to come back and read my writings and think of how sad his Mama is over his having ADHD with high impulsivity. Because, for the most part, I'm not.

Then I have those moments. Those moments where I wish I could take it from him...for him. Those moments when I'm sad because I wonder if he will have to take medication the rest of his life just to function in society and find peace of mind. I have moments where I see him medicated and unmedicated and I see two different little people in front of me. Unmedicated boy is wide open and rough and tumble. His eyes seem to sparkle just a little brighter and his sense of humor will have you rolling. Unmedicated boy also is hyper to the point where there are times I fear his little heart will come right out of his chest. Unmedicated boy can't focus and gets frustrated easily and loses control. Then there's medicated little boy. He's a little more serious and not as quick to laugh. Medicated boy shows amazing intelligence that keeps us speechless. Medicated boy sleeps at night. (That night he missed his medication? He might have slept an hour or two...at most. It was miserable all around.) Medicated boy can stop and control his actions.

I want to tell him I'm sorry lots of times. I want to beg him to forgive me and his Dad for passing this genetic trick to him. But....if I do that? Then I'm apologizing for him and who and what he is. That is so unacceptable. Because, along with his sisters, he keeps my heart beating on a regular basis. I don't want to change what makes him the amazing person that he is and is becoming.

I may have one of those moments here and there, but ultimately, I get past them. His issues aren't what I would have wished for my child, or any child for that matter. God had a reason for giving this precious little boy to me and our family. I am so grateful that He did. So, I had a moment. That's how long it lasted...a moment.

The Bathroom Project

2011-03-14T10:47:00.000-04:00

It was finally time. Time to start making this house our home and putting a solid Edge stamp on the building. For the past two years, I have seen in my mind's eye a beach themed bathroom. Leaning more towards the East Coast as that's the only kind of beach I know and love. This is the first room we have fully completed and I'm happy to show. I chose this room because I already had the decorations for it in a box. (I was serious about the two year remark.) I have looked and looked at colors and it's kind of funny how I finally found what I was looking for. I was able to acquire a sample of paint from Valspar online. I had to pick a color and I somewhat randomly browsed through the blues. I wanted a happy blue that reminded me of the beach. It's hard to really tell how a color will look online, but I took a chance. When it came in the mail, I slapped some up on the wall and was surprised. It really appealed to me. I went to Lowe's to find the color card and when I did, I bought a sample of the lightest color on the card. I brought it home and put it up against the blue and knew those were the colors I wanted in that room. I also chose to do this room because The Boy lays claim to this bathroom and it's also the guest bathroom. I wanted a nice restroom for my guests to use (even if the guest bedroom is in shambles!).

All in all, we were able to do this room for under $400.00. This is what I had to purchase:

Paint.
Primer.
Paint supplies.
Shelving.
Towels, wash cloths, hand towels.
Rugs.
Laundry hamper.
Decorations.

Now, I do have to admit that I am a big fan of Sherwin Williams. I took my paint samples to them and got my paint at that store. They are amazing at matching up paints! I love love love their cashmere paint. It is a self-leveling paint that is amazing to watch. You put it up on the wall and you see streaks and thirty minutes later? It's SMOOTH! I won't use anything else because it's excellent paint and very easy to use. I used what was left of my trim paint from the office (purchased at Lowe's-next time will get it from S.W.)

My colors are Summer Splash for the walls, Crystalline for the ceiling, and Oyster for the trim. That oyster is a fabulous color. I love a good crisp white, but not "blinding", if that makes sense. This is just the perfect trim color and I will use it throughout my entire home, I love it that much.

Now, let's get started with the pictures!!

Ahhh..gotta love the builder's tan/beige paint. Good neutral color, for sure, but no imagination. It made this small bathroom look like a small box. Note how I tried and failed with the shelves for towels. Not a bad shelf/rack system...just not right for this space. In my opinion, the towel rack was about useless. Away it went!

It really was cramped looking and feeling in there.

Small vanity area to work with here. The bathrooms upstairs are not huge. That's perfectly okay. I have three bathrooms upstairs. The girls' each have their own bathrooms, so they don't need huge space. I tell them to be happy they don't have to share!

I...uh...started taping when I realized I hadn't taken any pictures so I left the roll hanging on the door frame. Those are paint splotches I started to prime. I'm serious about really looking at a color for at least a few weeks to see if that's what I really want.

This was my hands all week long. I ruined a few tshirts while I was hard at work, too.

We let The Boy do some painting. He asked to help and I wanted him to own some of the work it took to make HIS bathroom look good. He got a little slap happy a couple of times, but had a blast. He is shirtless because he had on a school shirt and didn't want to be bothered to go across the hall to his room to get a play shirt to work in. At least he kept his pants on. Please note the tank of the toilet has been removed to paint the wall. What a pain that was, but I wanted it done right.

I told The Boy to show me his muscles. The Man decided to get in on the act and you can see by the reaction that The Boy wasn't expecting it. Love this picture!

We kept a mess going here. Are you as nervous as I am that my son is walking past open paint? Gah, that kid makes my nerves bad some times!

Really look at this picture. On the left is the Oyster color. On the right is the builder's Blah color. You don't realize how dull their colors are until you put something nice and crisp beside it.

There were shelves that needed to be put on newly painted walls.

There were tools involved, which made my husband very happy.

Thank you, Lord, I have a husband who will read instructions before putting holes in my walls!

TA DA!!!!! Hello new bathroom!! Out with the rack and towel bar, in with the floating shelves. I love the way the lines are clean while giving me the storage I need for towels and decorations. (My son has his favorite green and character towels. Those were moved to under the sink and he's happy to still be able to use them.) I found the white wicker laundry hamper at Bed Bath and Beyond and it fits perfectly between the toilet and tub. Yes, we did do a "sit down" test to make sure it wouldn't interfere with personal business.

I took some shells and put them on the ledge around the top of the shower. Makenna discovered that if you bang hard enough on the wall, one or two might fall down. *rolls eyes* I'm not too worried if they fall and get wet on occasion....they are SEA SHELLS, man. Besides, this turned out really cute. I also kept the clear shower curtain. It gives the room a more open feel and keeps people from showering in the dark!

Nice white absorbent rug. I put a matching one in front of the sink that's a little larger. I love the rough woven look. It reminds me of beach houses. Easy to throw in the washer is what I like!

Please ignore the red fan that won't be staying. The fumes from the cleaning supplies I used needed help. The gorgeous shells are from the Florida Keys. Neighbor Debbie has family there and when she was visiting, she picked some up for me a couple of years ago because I mentioned I wanted to do a beach themed bathroom. I 'm keeping it to a minimum on the vanity to keep it clutter free and more spacious.

This is on the top shelf. Oh, how Makenna and I love these shells. We probably spent thirty minutes arranging them in the vase so they would look just right. The shells used through out the room are some we picked up at Amelia Island beach and others are from The Keys.

SURPRISE!! Did you think I would just keep it all blue and white. No, Sir! No, Ma'am! This was my inspiration piece. This also came from the Florida Keys. I kid you not, Neighbor Debbie is a good woman. She went shopping and must have sent me a dozen or more pictures of the metal art/ sculptures she found while shopping . I finally decided on this one and have been perfectly pleased over it. I love the colors and the blue background had to be perfect for them to "swim' around. It's a good size, if you notice the light switch and top of door. Yes, it's heavy, but it's so cool! You can look at it a dozen times and see something different every single time. It gives the bathroom the perfect snap of color. It does come out from the wall as it is a 3-D work of art. That made me a tad nervous, but it really is okay and works well!

Got rid of the towel bar and put in a nice sturdy hook to hang your towel on while you're in the shower. It may be a little lower than most people would do, but I had to keep my six year old in mind. It's a great compromise, I think.

There you have it! An Edge Re-Do! A completed project in my home! We do plan on putting crown moulding in this bathroom eventually, but there's no hurry. I'm also on the hunt for a white wicker trash can to match the hamper. I now have the fever to get started on my other rooms. BUT.....give me a week to recover and let my shoulders reattach themselves, please. Hope you enjoyed!

Lions, Tigers, and Elephants, OH MY!!

2011-03-07T08:24:00.000-05:00

Guess where The Edge got to go this past weekend?!?

Who is excited to be at the circus for the first time ever?

Circus excitement is contagious!!

When you go early, you get to participate in the pre-show. There's the stage ham up in the ring showing her mad hula hooping skills! (Wearing a brand new hat for the occasion, of course.)

It's really special when grand parents get to go witness their grankids first circus experience. Contrary to that man's expression, he had a ball. I think they had more fun watching the kids' reactions than the show itself.

Worth every penny just to see the look of wonder on the six year old's face time after time. To see animals and clowns and feats of acrobatic wonder plus a motorcycle or three thrown in for excitement.

Two peas in a pod right here. They adore each other so good.

The look I got on the way home when asked, "Did you have a good time?"

Who is the best Mama in the world for taking her kids to the circus?

I AM!

To be fair, I'd like to give a shout out to the bestest Dad, too. The Man did make the phone call to purchase the tickets, paid for tickets, and drove us there. I just like being cool, too.

Keepin' it Real

2011-03-01T09:01:00.000-05:00

I love blogging. I love sharing stories about my family because I think they are the greatest thing since sliced bread. They are my reason for living. I've been doing some extra reading of other blogs lately and the subject came up about keeping the blog real. So many bloggers are trying to make an extra buck or two from their blogs and, dude, I have no problem with that whatsoever. Plus, I'm not going to say that if I had the chance to make a buck or two from my own blog that I wouldn't jump at the chance. It hasn't happened for me as of yet and so I won't stress over it. There are so many opinions out there as to what makes a blog a good read. Do you review products? Do you talk about all your problems? Do you just talk about kids and raising them? Do you have that something special that will make people want to visit you on a regular basis because you are just that flippin' cool? Eh, I'm clueless. I read what I read and enjoy it when I do.

My thoughts on a good blog are that you just keep it real. Don't talk about what you know nothing about. I am a full disclosure kind of gal. I'm not a private person who keeps every single thing to myself. I find it funny, too, because I come from a family that will keep every single thing close to their chests in the name of privacy. Maybe that's why I don't care? I grew up in a home where you keep everything within your four walls, never to let your troubles see the light of day. I adore my family and the ground they walk on, but I secretly laugh at them because you almost have to have a secret password and the key to Fort Knox in order to have a good conversation with them. ( I reckon it's not so secret anymore that I laugh at them now. Uh...I love you family and I'm laughing with you, not at you. (I hope that smooths it out, but I'm not too worried because it's not like they really read my blog.))

So, after reading some of recent blogs and their thoughts, I thought I'd share a few things that I haven't put on my blog. You know, to keep it real for me. It's all about me and just how crazy Miss Hope can be in her own mind.

Let's see where I can begin. Oh, yes, I have anxiety. Not super duper anxiety like my mother and oldest child. I've seen them go from zero to straight over the edge in a blink. I like to think I have a good control over mine with 10 mg of celexa every day. I can't take the full 20 mg that you start out with unless I want to lay on the couch all day in a stupor and sleep. Half of a tablet bringing it down to 10 mg is just right for me. I come from a long line of OCD people and I know I have great potential to let my anxiety control me. That's why I'm so glad I'm saved and that God is ultimately in control- not me. Have you ever watched those shows that are about OCD? I have and I want to cry because I can just see where they come from. One show was about a woman who would flip light switches X amount of times because if she didn't? She just knew something bad would happen to her child. I am a "bad case scenario" kind of person. My mind automatically goes to the worst thing that can possibly happen. The WORST thing you can come up with. Letting my child drive by herself the first time is a perfect example. I let her leave our driveway and my mind starts rolling with the worst possible things that could happen. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. When I start to feel my heart pound, I stop. I pray. I ask God to take care of whatever it is I'm beginning to stress over and I let it alone. You have no idea how many times this has saved my sanity. I know I can't control situations, but He can.

Now, get this. I am jealous of people who are OCD about their homes. I am totally not joking. I WISH I could have the gumption to be OCD about cleaning my home and keeping it in perfect order. Crazy, I know. Yet, I am very particular (ha ha...you do realize that "particular" is the OCD person's way of downplaying things?) about many things in my home. I don't put clothes in the dryer. That would be shirts and some pants. I do put certain things in the dryer, but for the most part, I hang things up to dry. If you put something in the dryer that I didn't want in there? It's going to get ugly up in here. My room is a hot mess at the moment because we have a few boxes in there that have some decorations in them, but I need to paint and .....suffice it to say I really need to go work in my room. Someone tell my room mate that I really need to get our room straight. While the room is pretty chaotic, my jewelry is not. Sure, it's scattered on top of the dresser, but I can lay my hands on whatever I'm looking for in a second. I put it all in separate little tiny ziploc bags so that it won't turn (because I wear silver). It's just amazing to me that I can be in such chaos, yet still know where everything is.

I love, almost to the point of obsession, lipstick, shoes, costume jewelry, and expensive hair products. I have been all over the weight spectrum in my life time, and those never let me down. Miss Ma'am, you might be 120 pounds soaking wet, but we can still wear the same lipstick, shoes, jewelry, and use the same hair products so step back. These few items make me feel better and I simply adore them.

I think the reason I haven't really decorated my house more than I have is confidence. I can walk in your house and immediately give you amazing decorating ideas and color choices. I just can't do that here in my own home. I finally decided on colors for the breakfast room/kitchen, dining room, and The Boy's bathroom, but it took a YEAR. There's still too many rooms left to do, man. I doubt every choice I make, every thing I place on a shelf, table, or mantle. Right now I am at war with my living room. I can't find what I call my "furniture zen". That's when my furniture is in the best possible place it can be and when I sit down, I am at peace and enjoying my space. I am constantly looking around and just feeling like everything is just....off. I am almost to the point of having someone come in here while I am gone, let them set it up, come back in and just live with it.

The last thing I'm going to share is that I don't feel like I belong anywhere. Weird, huh? I lived in my hometown or near it for the first 35 years of my life, then moved. I get to this military southeast Georgia town and after a year, start to settle in pretty good. After 3 1/2 years there, I have to move again to another Georgia town. I've been here a year, but I don't feel like I belong here. I call it home because my driver's license tells me this is my address. I call it home because my house with all my stuff is here and my children attend school here. It doesn't FEEL like home. Yet. I'm sure it will eventually. I know I don't feel at home in my hometown anymore. It will always be "home home" for the rest of my life, but I don't want to go back there to live. I think. It's a pretty odd feeling. My husband doesn't have this issue because he's moved around his entire life. He can make where ever he lives his home. My kids seem to be okay here. The oldest misses the last town we lived in and would go back in a heart beat if she could. I know my way around, for the most part, now. Everything isn't strange and scary. I don't get lost and bent out of shape like I did when we first got here. I know people here. I just would like to feel like I belong. That it's okay to put my roots down firmly without fear of them getting ripped out of the ground yet again. I am and always will be a "South Carolina Gal". I just want to be okay with living in Georgia.

There you are, Internets. A few real facts and thoughts from Miss Hope. It's about as real as it gets right there. Just to give you comfort, I believe I am half crazy some times my own self. What gives me comfort is that all of you are just as crazy in your own right, too.

A Post for a Tween

2011-02-13T11:22:00.012-05:00

As of February 6, 2011, there is now an official tween living in my house. That second child of mine turned 12. This is turning into some sort of banner year for me. Major birthday coming up (and NO, we are still NOT going to talk about it, okay?), teenager who got a license, and now a tween. A female tween. Go Edge!

For those of you out there who have more than two kids, do you find it kind of hard some times? I mean, you have the oldest kid who is your "Learning Kid". I was the oldest and can totally relate to this mind set. This is the kid you test your parenting skills with and hone them for the upcoming kids. My teenager is a beautiful gal, but she can wear a Mama out at times. Then you have the youngest that is the baby. Need I say more? This is your last child and you want to pay close attention to all the small details (if you can focus after dealing with the other two) and just savor the last time having to potty train a small human being. I've always worried that my middle child would suffer because the middle sibling is notorious for being the peace maker and keeping it below the radar for the most part. The Man and I have always tried to make the extra effort to let her know we love her and make sure she has her moments in the spotlight.

I'd like to tell you a little bit about my Makenna.

She's not into boys. Yet. Boys are just boys. They are her Cat Navy (her name for The Man for those of you visiting The Edge later than the rest), her Papa, her brother, nasty kids at school. She just has no interest in boys as of now. She won't even give them her cell phone number because, as she puts it, "I don't want them bothering me at home when I have to tolerate them at school all day long." I do have to share that when I asked her if she liked any boys and she replied "no" that she also was quick to point out that she doesn't like girls that way either. *blink*blink* I didn't even think of that but thanks for pointing that out, kid.

She is into drawing. Oh, how that baby loves to draw. If she's not reading, she's drawing. Her sketch books are full and I can see her talent improving with every page she touches. She will spend hours perfecting a picture, either on paper or on the computer. She has taught herself complex computer programs with drawing and coloring that make my eyes go wide and wonder just how far will she go with this talent?

She is into singing. When we went to open house for her first year in middle school, she marched around and took care of her schedule all by herself so she could make sure she was going to be in chorus. I have become accustomed to hearing her singing all over the house because she doesn't even think of what she's doing. She just makes a joyful noise all the time and it is a pleasure to hear. She loves singing so much and has improved so much that she made Georgia State Honor Choir. She sure did. That was what we did last weekend on her official birthday. We headed to a town below Atlanta so she and two other girls from her school could do some intensive training for an amazing performance on Saturday. (I have to do a Mama Brag here. We're 2 for 2 now! Paige made South Carolina State Honor Choir in 4th grade and now Makenna. Your turn, Boy!) We were so exhausted when we came home Saturday night and she was hoarse from giving it her all for the performance, but it was an experience none of us would trade for the world!

She is into hats. I have always had a secret jealousy of those that can wear a hat. My girl can wear a hat. It really doesn't matter what it looks like, either. She has quite a few hats that she'll plop down on her head when heading out the door. She has a unique quirky fashion style that makes you look twice and think, "Dang, I wish I could put stuff together and be that cute." Maybe it's because she has great self confidence and so she has all of us believing she really is that cute? I don't know, but it sure works for her. Did I mention that she wears toe socks with flip flops? And I let her do it...when it's not freezing outside. Hats, scarves, and toe socks. Give her one of those as a gift and she will adore you forever. The funkier they look, the better she loves them.

She is into performing. Give her a stage and she will burst forth and entertain you to the fullest. I've always had issues with stage fright and I made a vow when I had kids that I would find a way to make them comfortable on stage or in front of people. My girls did pageants and dance recitals from young ages and so they have no problem walking out in front of people with big smiles on their faces. Makenna is a key player in our dinner theater. Yes, evening meals are very entertaining around here and more times than I can count, when she has the spotlight, she has to get up from the table and act out whatever she is telling us. She talks with her hands like her Mama and when she's excited her voice gets higher and higher in pitch until you wince and have to tell her to bring it down a notch or two or three.

She is into anime. Apparently, there are many kids her age that are lovers of this Japanese form of entertainment. She can draw the characters as well or better than the makers and she is always telling us stories about the characters. Of course, we are clueless because we aren't all about this art form, but we nod and smile and every once in a while we remember something she told us previously that we can relate to the current story she's telling and she is satisfied that we are, indeed, listening to her.

She is into writing. She has this flash drive that she has connected to an old Wii remote strap and it is never far from her sight. She has all her computer art and stories in this precious piece of plastic and has been known to panic if she can't immediately lay her hands on it. Before she leaves for school, she will leave up a story she is working on so when I get The Boy off on the bus, I can sit with a cup of coffee and see what her mind has conjured up. And I am impressed. Her writing style is far beyond her years and I know this because I read. I read everything and I've seen so many writing styles and hers? Blows my mind. I am seriously considering submitting some of her work just to get an opinion because I am her Mama and may seem a tad bit biased when it comes to her talent. I want to write like her when I grow up.

She is into golf. When she was 8 years old, we gave her a choice of either soccer or golf. She needed to get out of the house! She chose soccer at first, then thoughtfully said, "Ya know, you have to run with soccer. I'll take golf." She took a few lessons at the golf course on base and was hooked. She's on her second set of golf clubs (thank you growth spurt), has a net set up in the back yard, and is about to go get her second pair of golf shoes. We are waiting until March to enroll her in a golf program because we do live in one of the golf capitals of the nation and so these programs are readily available. Her P.E. coach at her school is excited for her develop her skills so she can play on the high school team (and I suppose make him look good?). I'm just happy she enjoys the game. Every time her Poppies comes for a visit, she hits the course with him and The Man for an afternoon of golf and golf cart driving. I'm still not sure which she enjoys more because we all know that driving a golf cart is loads of fun. It tickles my father-in-law to no end that he has a grandchild that loves his favorite past time.

This is why I feel that some times this kid of mine may fall by the wayside due to where she was born in a three kid line up. I am humbled by her peace keeping ways and proud of her feisty nature when she has been wronged in this life. Makenna is a very bright light in this world that keeps our family shining and warm. Our calm in a storm and bright star to lead us when we need to be shown the way.

I love this kid and can't wait to see how she shows the world that she is a force to be reckoned with.

Happy Birthday, Mu.

p.s. I'm secretly very glad you don't want to wear makeup yet. It's really is overrated.

Now it's time for pictures!!! The opening picture at the top was taken when we went for Neighbor Greg's retirement a few weeks ago. She wanted to jump off of the fountain and I let her. Note she did take the flip flops off before jumping. Oh, to be young again. You know, where you don't injure something major by doing something like jumping off of a fountain.

I love love this picture. We at The Edge love a good fountain. When we see one, our cameras come out and start snapping. It was hard to leave this fountain behind when we moved because it's just so fabulous. See what I mean with the hat? How cute is that?

We went to South Carolina this past weekend to get our taxes done and, of course, we stop and eat at our favorite Mexican restaurant because that's what Makenna has to do on her birthday. We have eaten here for many years for her day. So many, in fact, that we laugh because the first time she wore this hat? It was down to her nose because she was so little. How about those Happy Birthday glasses? I found those at Cracker Barrel a few weeks ago and just knew they had to be hers. Gah, how does the kid even work a sombrero?

Pictures are tad bit out of order. This was on her birthday. We were all so tired from a chorus filled weekend, but we went out to one of our favorite places for the best dessert in town. We noticed a fountain outside! A big fountain! Of course, instinct kicked in and out came the cameras. Note this is hat number 3.

This is a dessert order for a piece of cake. Her favorite one, might I add. One piece covers an entire plate and we are all perfectly okay with this. We didn't get a birthday cake on her birthday because Nana made her a red velvet cake that we got this past weekend. And, yes, she wore the hat without blinking. Even to Best Buy afterwards, where people would wish her a Happy Birthday.

She has worn this shirt for five birthdays now. I remember ordering it a size larger than what she was wearing. Little did I know she would grow straight up and be able to wear it many more times. Every year she pulls it out the closet and wears it proudly. Surely have gotten my money's worth, huh?

This was right after her chorus performance when parents were allowed to go down to the stage to take pictures. She was one out of 250 kids in this group (there were two groups). Thank goodness she was on the end and we were able to find her. What an amazing once in a lifetime experience it was!

Poppies (The Man's Dad- can you tell?) is now working in Georgia for a while and he made the drive to see his golf buddy perform. If ever one little girl had two men wrapped around her tiny pinky finger...this girl OWNS these two grown men.

I don't know....I think maybe we favor a little bit in this picture. Lawd, I love this kid of mine.

They Gave Her a Driver's License!

2011-01-27T08:46:00.002-05:00

I don't know who thought it was a good idea to give teenager's the ability to drive. I think they're on crack.

My teenager succeeded in proving to the state of Georgia that she is capable of driving. On the highway. By herself. Without us in the vehicle with her.

Sweet goodness and mercy.

That girl of mine has been itching for some independence and The Man and I put it off as long as we could. We really did. This is my baby. My 3 pound 7 ounce baby who came into this world early and has fought since day one to be herself. I don't see this young lady who has taken classes on driving, logged in supervised hours with parents and instructors, and taken tests to prove she can, indeed, drive a vehicle. I see my baby.

She now shares a car with The Man. He does that carpool gig to work and one of his co-workers live in our neighborhood, so they share that driving chore. This allows her to have the car to drive to school two to three days a week, depending on his driving schedule. She went to the office and applied for a parking permit for school and paid for it with her own money. She hasn't driven yet, her first day is tomorrow.

I remember driving to school. Oh, how cool I was to thumb my nose at that big yellow school bus that was freezing in winter and blazing hot in the summer. Times are different now than when I first got that precious piece of plastic back in the day. My friends and I would beg and borrow vehicles from family members and pick each other up so we could all be cool together. She doesn't have that luxury. For six months, she's only allowed to have family members in the vehicle with her. I am totally okay with that. I also grew up in a very small town, that at the time, had only one red light. My friends and I learned how to manage a vehicle on back country roads before hitting towns with decent traffic and more than one red light. Where we live is interstate, four lanes, six lanes, on ramps, off ramps, exits, big roads that curve over and under you and confuse the crap out of you until you drive them a couple hundred times. I, myself, am just now comfortable driving all these confusing roads and it took me almost a year!

The other day I sent her to get her sister from chorus practice. Not a big deal. I also asked if she would run to W*lmart and pick up a bag of rice for supper. Are you kidding me? She was all over that chore. (unlike house chores like kitchen patrol or cleaning her room) Now, the school is five minutes to the right and W*lmart is five minutes to the left when you leave our neighborhood. Easy peasy.

If you're not geographically challenged it is. My poor child would have a problem finding her way out of a paper sack. Sad, but true. My son has a built in compass like his father and knows his way all over town, but my teenager begs the use of the TomTom to go five minutes in opposing directions. I wouldn't let her take the trusty GPS because, come on! Five minutes away, Internets!

I should have let her take it with her. They got lost. Well, they missed a turn. A very important turn. Three times.

~sigh~

The first time they realized it when they were riding along, talking and listening to music and one of them states, "Wait a minute. These houses don't look familiar." Wouldn't that be a clue to turn the music down and hush? Not when you're a teenager and preteen who are in a vehicle with no adults and feeling pretty dang cool with life.

Suffice it to say, a thirty minute trip took about an hour. I didn't call them and they didn't call me. I honestly thought they were walking around the store. I'm glad I didn't know they were turned around and a tad lost. I'm even more glad they didn't call and worked together to find their way. Did I worry? Yeah, I did. A little bit. Then again, I know my kid is a careful driver and she would protect her little sister with her life. That kind of evens it all out, ya know?

The most painful part of the whole process was putting her on our insurance. Holy higher rates! It makes me blink hard and swallow fast when I think about what we're paying for that sweet darling to get behind the wheel. I still may have to enter a recovery program to fully get over the shock.

She is dying to get a job and make her own money to help with insurance and gas and all that is expensive. Seriously, the kid is all about working and not asking us for money. While I respect her for that and know she is sincere, we're not allowing it because she has two AP classes this school year and grades are way more important than a job at this point. Maybe next year when her work load is lighter at school. We'll see.

You all realize that I'm not old enough to have a child with a driver's license. Okay, let's rephrase that. I don't FEEL old enough to have a kid with a license. I am in total denial that time is starting to fly by for me and my next birthday is a MAJOR birthday that we won't talk about just yet.

I guess it's true that time stands still for no one.

Time to let that oldest baby bird of mine see what's outside this nest.....

......as long as she doesn't speed while doing it.

Neighbor Greg has Retired!

2011-01-17T10:31:00.003-05:00

My family and I were honored this past Friday (January 14, 2011) to attend the retirement ceremony of Neighbor Greg. For those of you who have never attended a military retirement? Gosh, all I can say is I am so sorry you haven't. I've been fortunate enough to attend four and each one is so special and different and just amazing. Last summer, Neighbor Debbie told me that her husband had finally decided it was time and he was putting in his papers to the military so he could head back in to the civilian world after twenty years of service. You want time to fast forward? Talk about retirement plans. It seems like we blinked and it was time to head to Kings Bay Naval Submarine Base to celebrate another twenty years of military service.

The Man was asked to give the invocation and benediction for the ceremony. Talk about pressure! The morning of the ceremony, we were sitting in the hotel room and I asked him what he was going to say. Had he written it down? Had he really thought it out? Tell me!!! He had not written a word down but had been thinking about what to say the past couple of weeks. GAH. Are you serious, man? You need to say this and that and let me write it for you because I am a WRITER. I BLOG! He graciously declined my kind offer and believed that he had it under control. I informed him that if he got too long winded? I would start a coughing fit and that would mean to wrap it up quick. He gave me a raised eyebrow and no comment.

We arrived at the Chapel and my sister, Neighbor Debbie came running out of the chapel doors. Makenna ran to hug her and she ran past Makenna straight to me. (classic cute moment) Oh, how happy I was to see her. We went inside where I was able to see their children (who I claim, too) and Greg's family. I kind of wanted to park myself on the front row because I feel like this is my family, but when you have SIX KIDS, there's no room, man. Three of the six have spouses. All three have kids, too. Dude, they took up three and half rows in the chapel for the whole family. How awesome is that??

The Man was invited to sit on stage with Neighbor Greg, the guest speaker, and the retiring officer since he was going to be praying. I grinned when my husband stood at attention in his sports coat civilian clothes. Hey, it's only been a year since he wore a uniform. In case I forget to mention later, he did an awesome job praying and I was so proud of him for doing such a good job. (and I didn't have to cough one time)

I kept my eye on Neighbor Greg because I could see how he was almost, but not quite, overwhelmed by the surreal quality of what was happening around him. I kept glancing at Neighbor Debbie across the aisle from me and she got teary from time to time listening to the great things being said about her husband. I really couldn't look at her much because I had potential to get all teary my own self and she told me if she looked at me and I was crying and it made her cry, then she would throw her shoe at me. I believed her because I threatened the same thing with her at The Man's retirement.

I just can't explain the reverence and love of country that just surrounds a military retirement. You get goose bumps from hearing the reading of Olde Glory (<---- click on that to see what I'm talking about) and you want to just bawl when you see those in uniform who are attending stand for certain parts so proud and true.

The most touching and tear inducing part of the ceremony was when Storm, the oldest son who is now serving in the USNAVY, walked up on stage in his dress blues to relieve his Father of the watch. They faced each other at attention while the Emcee read the relieving of the watch. No eye contact was made because, Internets? That was one intense emotional moment. When Storm said, "I relieve you, Dad." and Neighbor Greg replied, "I stand relieved, Son." ....well.....WAAHHHH is all I can say. I, and everyone else in the building, lost composure and proceeded to bawl. I can't even think about it now without getting blurred vision.

The VFW was where the reception was held and it was just perfect. There was a great turnout, good food, and fabulous company and fellowship. Our kids were off with friends and we were able to sit back and just enjoy ourselves to the fullest. (No, we did not get drunk. Jeesh.)

I just can't tell you how proud I am to know Neighbor Greg. Just to be able to tell him "Thank You" for all his service and sacrifice to our country. He has dedicated twenty years for you and me so that we could sleep in peace at night. There have been missed holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, school functions, and numerous other occasions he has missed to serve our country. I am honored to call him friend.

You rock, Neighbor Greg. I have all faith that you will succeed in the civilian world as well, if not better, than you have in the military.

Bravo Zulu, Chief!!! Fair winds and following seas.

* I do ask that you readers out there comment here if you can. I know many of you will come comment on my face of books page and I truly appreciate it but let's show some love and support to The Chief! Thanks in advance!*

Raising Paige

2011-01-07T08:12:00.003-05:00

I have been a parent for almost 17 years. Wow. This coming April will find my oldest baby turning 17 whole years old. Lawd, it feels like not too long ago, I was 17 my own self.

I don't know about you parents out there, but there are many times in this child rearing gig I got going on that I wonder if I'm doing a good job or screwing three hopefully productive citizens of the United States up for life. I've made my fair share of mistakes as a Mama that make me wince to this day and wonder what the heck was I thinking?!? I have a feeling that my quota of making mistakes hasn't been fully filled yet since my youngest is six and a boy (compared to having two older girls). I admit to being terrified at times as I guide them through life and other times?

I want to high five my own self.

Some of you are friends of mine on the face of books, so you know a little about this situation. I am compelled to write about it...not for my own high five awesomeness...but for the amazingness that is my child.

Paige is a member of the Buddy Club at school. This is a club where kids in the high school help out with the special needs class. They help get the kids to and from lunch, go by the class to hang out, and basically be buddies. When we moved here last year, Paige found out about the club by accident when one of her new friends asked if she would help her get the kids back to class. Then Paige met the Buddies. She came home that day full of sparkly eyes and stories about the awesome kids she had met that day. There are limited spots for volunteers and my child went to the special education teacher that is in charge of Buddy Club and pretty much told her that she HAD to be a part of this club and would do whatever it took to be a member. Suffice it to say, her tenacity paid off and she got in.

I've heard stories about her friends that make me grin. There is one girl who loves to hug people. One of the special education teachers discourages hugging this girl and Paige told her flat out that she don't roll that way. If the girl needs a hug? She's getting a hug from Paige. You have the boy with Downs Syndrome that Paige loves loves loves. He loves him some Paige, too. Many times she would come home and talk about Richard. Richard and the wheelchair...his wheels to the world. Richard would use bare communication as talking wasn't in his realm. He was born normal, but received the wrong medication as an infant that would change his entire future. I can't tell you the Richard Stories I've heard in the past year of this character so full of mischief and life with a grin always on his face. (especially when Paige walked in the classroom- he was able to get his flirt on then!)

School started back for second semester this past Tuesday. Paige found out Monday night that Richard had passed away. He just got sick and his frail body couldn't fight it. She came downstairs and was just shell shocked. She didn't really cry, and I think that's because she was in shock and trying to process what she had just learned.

Richard's graveside service was yesterday morning. Paige came to me before getting dressed for school and asked if she could possibly attend. She had a doctor's appointment yesterday afternoon and was going to be picked up from school early anyway. I told her we would go because I could see that it was so important to her.

It was a dreary chilly morning. We both dressed up and headed to the graveyard a little early as we didn't know what the attendance would look like. She looked so sharp in her black dress pants. I gave her my dress trench coat to wear and I wore my cape. We walked up to the tent and there people milling about waiting on the service to start. She signed the register to show we were there. I told her maybe she should seek out his family to speak to them since after the service is usually so busy. I stood at the back of the tent by myself and watched my daughter go forward and find Richard's family. First, she found his Grandmother and Aunt and I saw her smile and start talking with them. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I know my girl used her manners and was telling them how she adored Richard. I saw the Aunt stand up and hug her. Paige walked back over to me when she was done and just started sobbing. I held her close and patted her back until she got her composure. I then suggested that she go talk with his parents, that they would love to know she was there. I had someone point out his Mom and there my baby girl went on a mission. I still stood back to the side and let her go forward on her own. I saw her wait patiently for the mother to hug someone and speak with them.

Do you know how hard it was to watch my child stand there smiling while tears went down her face? I saw this mother hug her more than once and keep a hand on her arm as my child told her how she adored her son and was so thankful to her for sharing him. It took all I had not to bawl right there as I watched my baby be an awesome young lady. The mother took her to meet the father and I saw him shake her hand and get teary as my daughter spoke briefly with him about his son.

The service was about to start when the special education head teacher and other teacher came up to the tent. I did a quick "How do you do?" and let Paige walk forward with them as the speaker began to talk. Oh, don't worry, I was only a couple of feet away and ready to jump up beside her if need be. I listened to this man speak about Richard with such love that I felt a huge loss that I never got to meet this kid who lived his life from a wheelchair. Tears just flowed from underneath my child's sunglasses as she nodded her head over and over while he talked as she did know exactly what he was talking about.

The service was very short and sweet...one of the shortest I've ever heard. I don't think it could have been any better, though. I can only pray that my own service will be so perfect one day. I spoke a little with the teacher afterwards and felt even better knowing that she likes my child and would even go to bat for her at school for excused absence for the funeral service.

I didn't know, Internets. I just didn't know what an amazing thing my very own child was doing on her own. I really didn't grasp that she was opening herself up to love very very special people. I've seen her in the W*lmart parking lot stop to speak to one of her "Buddies" who was walking in with their Mom. I saw the Mom thank my child for befriending her son because it's so hard for a parent to let their child go to a public school where they may be ridiculed for being different.

I do so love that kid of mine. I am so proud of her for being such an awesome person. She was the proper young lady yesterday and I was bustin' buttons over how amazing she looked, acted, and carried herself.

Yeah, I wanted to high five my own self and say, "THAT'S MY GIRL!!!!"

Wrappin' Up Christmas

2011-01-04T08:57:00.022-05:00

I thought I'd take a moment to wrap up our Christmas 2010 season. (ha ha Get it? Wrap it up?)

This had to be the most stress free Christmas I can remember in a long time. Oh, how wonderful it was to move at a slow pace and just enjoy the two days given to us to celebrate the season. My father-in-law was able to join us and I am so glad he did. Santa even left him a stuffed stocking that he thoroughly enjoyed.

We started a few new traditions that I hope we'll continue to do as the years progress. The Man read the Christmas Story on Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day we decorated a cake The Man had baked for Jesus' birthday. We put candles on the cake (no, not 2010..more like 20), sang the song, and all of us blew out the candles. I kept Christmas Tea brewing in the crock pot for a few days and it was heavenly to sip on it throughout the day. (Just realized something...how many times can you legitimately use the word "Christmas" in one sentence or paragraph? I think I just set a record or something here.)

The kids were spoiled rotten and The Man and I totally justified it with two reasons. 1. Christmas last year was a madhouse and we wanted to make up for it. 2. They don't get stuff all year long in our house. Truly. You get a load at Christmas and a present or two for your birthday and the Easter Bunny leaves a goody basket, but that's it. Some times, in September, before Labor Day hits, they might get a little something. That doesn't happen every year, though.

I did manage to get sick on Christmas Day but it was manageable because I stayed right here in my home and wasn't out running here and there. Going to the doctor the following Monday proved me to have bronchitis. Apparently, I contracted a virus and it tore my throat up and settled in my lungs. The doctor advised me not to go visit my mother and grandmother until Thursday to make sure I was clear and full of antibiotics. That put a crimp in our visiting plans, but we readjusted and waited until I felt better so as not to pass the crud along to those who can't fight sickness all that well.

I was a little sad to put away our decorations this year. Now my house looks so bare, but it motivates me to really buckle down and see about decorating earnestly. I'm pretty sure this makes my husband sigh because that means I'll be shopping a tad more. I think I wear him out because I don't really impulse buy. I look and look and look and when I finally find that one thing I know needs to be in my home? I get it. For example, when I finally found the valances for my breakfast room, I got them. My living room window remains bare as I just haven't found exactly what I want to look at every single day. That naked window is really starting to bug me, though.

Hold up! This is supposed to wrap up Christmas, not talk about my decorating woes! I did take a few pictures of my decorating abilities and I suppose I shall share them with you. Now keep in mind, this is my first real bona fide attempt at decorating a mantle, making my own wreath, and such. I have waited so very long to have a mantle to decorate so you know I hated to dismantle it last week.

I'll be sharing some pictures now. I can't promise that they'll be in a good order because me and blogger have issues putting pictures on posts some times. I thought I'd narrate throughout instead of putting all my writing in one place. I hope you enjoy!

This would be the Fearless Two. Climbing the ladder to decorate the tree didn't phase them a bit. I admit to being a little jealous because I am skeered t'death of heights. Get me six inches off of the floor and my head gets all woozy. Side note: the past month has found my son loving to wear his Dad's tshirts. I don't know where this has come from, but as soon as he can, he's gone in our room to borrow one to wear at night.

Would you believe Paige takes after me in the fear of heights? I believe she was was one or two rungs off of the floor when she decided that maybe decorating up high wasn't her cup of tea.

My guys putting the tree together. See how my husband has a grip on my son's hand? That kid gives us a heart attack when the ladder is up. He will be at the top grinning before we can blink. Makes me toes hurt to see him way up there. Oh, and do you see those naked windows? Driving me crazy, man!

Dad turns his back and see what happens? Sweet Joseph and the baby lambs, it's hard to look at this picture knowing how high up he was.

I did the tree topper before they put the top section up on the tree. Normally, with the six foot tree, I would stand in a chair (woozy head and all) and decorate. No way was I climbing up 12 feet to do the topper. I thought it was on the large side....then they put it up and I realized it should have been FOUR TIMES larger than what it was. Live and learn and know what to do next time, I suppose. Also, I found myself gravitating towards white, silver, and red this year. I have no idea why, but everything I bought were mostly those colors.

Another picture with different lighting (will I EVER learn how to operate my camera??? I think not.) Lots of stuff going on here!

Waiting on me to start unwrapping ornaments for him to put on the tree. I also had to put this picture on here because he was just so stinkin' cute.

Soon as we got busy, you know Makenna headed to the kitchen to make the customary hot chocolate for us to sip on whilst we decorated and listened to Christmas music. She never lets us down!

I splurged and bought the 72 inch tree skirt (Lowe's) for the new big tree. This is what happens when the teenager gets hold of it. She is striking the pose for Christmas fashion. I think she's working it well.

Guess who found a new place to snooze? Oh, how that tree skirt is soft and a perfect place for a puppy to take a nap. Of course, this ended when presents started appearing underneath. She wasn't too thrilled about that happening.

Side view of my mantle. A lighted swag going over one edge. I took a decorating class and the instructor said to "think outside the box! Don't make everything in life symmetrical! Do something different!" So, I did. At first, it made me tilt my head because it wasn't even...then it grew on me and I really loved how it turned out. The poinsettias are clip-ons I found at Joanne's. The ornaments are el cheapos (maybe a buck or so a piece?) that I found here and there. The snow flake ornaments were bought last year after Christmas at Cracker Barrel. The red finials were also after Christmas at Cracker Barrel two years ago. This was the first time I got to use them. There is some silver disk garland found on vacation in Nebraska woven in the swag, along with a red berry garland. All glass is stuff I had around the house.

Front view of the mantle. My chair is across the room and I just loved sitting and looking at it during the day and evening. The vases on the table to the left are from Kirkland's and I leave them up year around. I had a few stems of red berries I just plopped in them and it looked good! So good, I left the berries in them when I put the other stuff away. Dontcha just love that magnolia picture? Yeah, I got that bad boy for Mother's Day a few years ago and I just love love love it.

There was a stocking for every breathing being in our home Christmas morning. I found plastic banister hooks at Lowe's and let me tell you, those things are awesome! They wrap around the railing and cause no trouble at all. For those of you out there who are remarking to yourselves, "Why, I would have hung garland from that gorgeous railing." God Bless you. I did think of that and consider it but Miss Hope has to take it one thing at a time. I fully intend to make that area awesome next year, but my decorating funds went towards purchasing the amazing tree this year and I'm perfectly okay with that.

Stupid camera wouldn't take a good night time picture so you can see how pretty it was all lit up. Loved the front porch and I'm standing on the porch at an angle with taking this picture. I have to decorate a little outside because I just dig riding around looking at how everyone else decorates their outside spaces.

This is The Tree. Oh, how I love that tree. Paige made the comment that she felt like Cindy Lou Who when she stood beside it. Heh heh. I know, right?!? I've always wanted a ginormous tree and with the huge open living room we have, I can finally have one. Oh yeah, I fully intend to enjoy that thing for a long time. (Please, Lord, keep my husband around because I can't climb the ladder to decorate it and he'll do it for me without complaining one little bit.)

This is the antique buffet in my dining room. The gold stuff in the pineapple vase were used for the tree topper in previous years. I hated to just keep it all in a container, so I just plopped it in the vase and thought, "Hey! Not bad!"

Here's my very first wreath I made all on my own!! That ribbon was a doozy to work with. It's a burlap material and very thick. I love it, though, and worked and worked until I finally got a bow made that I was good with. Since the ribbon was trimmed in gold, I used gold poinsettias and accents. I kept it on the simple side. I'm afraid the decorating instructor would be ashamed of me for keeping it traditional looking and not thinking outside the box. I'm pretty sure that the more I do stuff like this, the braver I'll get and more outside the box I'll venture. For now, this will do. I kept it on the inside of the front door. Who says you can't have a wreath on both sides of the door, huh?

I think that'll conclude Christmas 2010 for The Edge. It was an extremely blessed time for me and my family full of memories we'll treasure for a long time. I hope you had yourselves a good Christmas Season. Let's get this 2011 started, shall we?

Christmas Confession

2010-12-22T09:02:00.003-05:00

I am so stinkin' excited for this Christmas I can't hardly stand myself.

My whole life I've known that Christmas is the most magical and wonderful time of the year. My Grandaddy loved him some Christmas. He'd start singing carols around Thanksgiving and every time someone would come around, he'd start belting one out. Did I mention he really couldn't sing that well? This time of year, I miss that man more than I can say. He loved giving me and my brother presents at Christmas and Lawd help an old man when the great grand babies came along. He had all his great grand girls before he passed away and he loved for them to sit in his lap and they would let him sing to his heart content. (I still get sad that he never got to see the two boys...he would have been right on over the moon over those two.)

We have that satellite radio up in the truck and I've kept it on the Holiday station since I found it. Now, the kids might be complaining a tad over hearing the same songs over and over, but I love it. When "Rudolph" or "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" or "Frosty" or any of those classics come on...I've found myself getting a tad bit misty. I can hear my Grandaddy singing one of those tunes or whistling one (He was a great whistler!) as he went about his day. I get this little pang that I know means I miss him greatly.....but I also realize that when I hear one of those songs? He's here in spirit with us.

My Daddy loves him some Christmas, too. He has great potential to be grumpy year round (I see those of you who know him nodding your head), but give him December 24th and 25th, and he is the definition of happiness and cheer. Now, Daddy isn't one to go singing like his Dad, but he gets all happy and teases us all about what gifts we might be getting or what Santa might bring. I love seeing my Daddy like this because he just loves the whole entire season. He checks out everything every one gets and has even been known to play with a few toys and games...you know, doing a quality check and all that stuff. Every Christmas Eve before we go crazy opening presents, he does a little speech where he talks about Jesus being born and all that is holy about Christmas. We go around the room and everyone will tell something that they are thankful for from that year or just in general. I admit that I get a little long winded some times and the kids roll their eyes when it's my turn. I always mention my Grandaddy, get choked up, and have to pass my turn on to the next person.

Let's mention my brother, shall we? I love my brother. He can be so stoic and stern acting, but give him Christmas and his eyes light up and he grins constantly because he can't wait for people to open presents from him and his family. He is very kind in that he tries to give my kids stuff that makes noise. Lots of loud noises. When my child opens a gift and it starts screeching, I look at him to see him laughing and giving me a thumbs up. Lord, I do love that brother of mine.

Reading this post, it seems to me that the males in my family have been thoroughly bitten by the Christmas Bug. I love the holiday, too, and gladly tolerate their giddiness and happiness. I realized this week, that it's not just the males who get all out of sorts. I do, too!!! I think the past few years, I've been so focused on making sure gifts are bought and packing up my family to travel six hours one way to really have a chance to get fully immersed in the spirit of the season. I can't believe the stress that has been taken off of me with us deciding to stay in our home this year. I'm not dreading a long drive with over excited children. I'm not dreading sleeping in a bed that is guaranteed to break my back by morning time. I'm not dreading packing ALL the stuff up and bringing it back home, just to have to clean up here.

Don't get me wrong....it hasn't hit me yet that, for the first time in 39 years, I won't spend those two magical days with my family that I love with all my heart. I hope to stay busy and laughing so I don't get all leaky around the eye area because I miss my Mama and Daddy and brother and sister-in-law and niece and nephew and Grandma and Aunt and all.

I want to fully immerse myself in the magic of the season and the reason for the season. My family best hang on...Mama is on a mission!

Help Me Understand, Please

2010-12-19T18:27:00.002-05:00

You know in a previous post, I was talking about helping someone less fortunate this year. I'm so sad because there's so many people who need help because of circumstances going on these days.

I read somewhere (in a submarine wives forum I belong to) that the angel trees they have this time of year, people are quick to grab the young kids, but teenagers get overlooked quite a bit. While I know that things can happen in a child's life that will scar them forever...teenagers can hurt just as badly and maybe even deeper. The more I thought about it, the more I want to help a teenager.

You want to get sad? Let me tell you about Paige's life. She has friends (yes, there is an "s" as in plural on the end of that word.) at her school that have been kicked out of their homes...many for different reasons. Kicked out of their homes. Now, I don't know what happened for their lives to get to that point, but I'm here to tell you that no child of mine is going ANYWHERE until I've got them grown to at least the age 18. Even if I have t'beat their butts on occasion. (For those who don't believe in corporal punishment? Live your way and I'll live mine. Georgia law states I can spank my kids and you can be assured I will do so if the need arises.) I'm not saying these are bad kids. They could have bad parents. Now THAT makes me livid. There is no excuse (in my book) for bad parenting. You can make parenting mistakes and you can wish you handled a situation differently, but live and learn, people. Pick yourself up and go forward, learn from your mistakes, and do your best to raise your kids right. Like I said, I don't know what happened in many of these cases, so judgement is a sketchy thought at this point.

When I hear her tell me tales of the kids she sees on a daily basis, my heart strings get tugged on something fierce. I want to take them all, bring them home with us, feed them, and make sure they know that there are good people out in this cruel world. I met one little gal a week or so ago that goes to school with Paige. She's ended up pregnant and I surely hate that's happened to her. I really hate that her family disowned her and kicked her out. I really hate that she's about to pop and working as a waitress to make money while going to school full-time during the day. (High school, that is.) I love how sweet and polite she is as she comes to our table to meet us...how her eyes sparkle even though they look so tired and older than her seventeen years. She told my daughter that she made a mistake, but she's going to do the absolute best she can with the situation she has.

I am so sad to hear about the boy who lives with his dad and brother and his dad kicked him out. How he makes excellent grades and talks about being a nuclear engineer one day, but needs shoes that doesn't have holes in them. I am warmed by the family that has taken him in, but I wonder what kind of Christmas season he will have in a home that isn't his?

Lord, please help me understand how this happens!! Please. I love my children with every fiber of my being and can't imagine treating them like they're disposable when the feeling strikes.

Lord, please help me find a way to help one of these kids in some way- be it large or small, before or on the 25th of this December month.

Candle Love

2010-12-17T21:56:00.002-05:00

One of the things our family is going to do this Christmas is make Jesus a birthday cake. Miss Hope and family are all about some Jesus and The Man and I are wanting to stress that the reason for the season is about the birth of Jesus. Since The Man is the baker in the family*, he thought it a good idea to make Jesus a cake and let the kids help him cook and decorate it to enjoy. The kids seem really excited about this and are gung ho about baking Jesus his own cake for his birthday.

Today, The Man, The Boy, and I were at the commissary shopping. We go on base to the commissary about twice a month for what I call "big groceries". Otherwise, I get my milk, bread, and such from W*lmart down the road.

Anyway, we were in the produce and deli section and about to do some serious food gathering. I was over looking at something while The Man was checking the quality of the oranges. I noticed my son a few feet away looking at the turning rack of birthday accessories (i.e. candles, decorations, and etc.).

All of a sudden, I heard his voice ring out across the produce...

"Hey, Dad? How old is Jesus again?"

I turned to my husband and started laughing. Why? I don't know...it's not a question you hear every day, I suppose.

The wheels started turning in my boy's head. He asked when Jesus was born and my husband told him on December 25, 0000 (zero zero zero zero-that's how he told him.)

Now my kid isn't about those number candles. Oh, no. He likes to blow out the individual candles because number candles are a crock.

Those wheels continued to turn. I immediately told him we simply could not do two thousand and ten candles.

We compromised. He picked out two packs and was satisfied.

Remind me to turn the smoke detector off when we light those bad boys, would you?

* I am not a baker. I am a good cook, but I am not a baker. My family will be quick to tell you that Mama can cook, but she can NOT bake. I accept this and let The Man do that job since he's good at it.

** Another side note of useless information. If you want to hear many different languages spoken? Go to a commissary. I find it just ...I don't know....odd....that in a commissary on an American post/base, you will hear many different languages spoken as you push your buggy through the store getting groceries. I know your local W*lmart may have a Hispanic section of food, but if you have a good sized commissary? You'll get all different kinds of ethnic food sections. I've had a right large time trying some random things out of different sections. Many people from different countries are stationed here and there are also spouses from other countries that make up the wild mix cultures that grace the commissary on any given day.

Christmas Cheer

2010-12-17T08:13:00.003-05:00

I promise I've taken a few pictures of my house and its lovely decorations and if I don't put these pictures up? Girlfriend Down the Street will have my head. She's sweet that way, you know.

I got a little something on my mind that I can't just seem to shake.

My family and I are so blessed it's not even funny. Retirement from the military has treated us very well and I thank the Lord above every single day for his continuous showers of blessings on our heads. I'm not saying we're rich, because heaven knows we're not. It's just been alot easier this year not having to struggle to buy groceries or pay for lunch money at school, or put gas in our vehicles. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can breathe better.

Since we got the go ahead that we're staying in our home for Christmas, Santa and I have been much closer contact. I told the big guy that my kids had it kind of tough last year. We didn't get to put our decorations up because of moving during the break. We rushed up I-95 for about 24 hours of Christmas with family, hurried back to pack it all up and move. Poor kids really didn't get a break at all because we were unpacking our new home and they were starting new schools. Do I have to make it up to them? Nah, they're good kids and of course they bounced back quick and promptly forgot about all we had to do in such a short time.

I want to make this year special.

Suffice it to say, Santa and Miss Hope are real tight at this point and I am comfortable believing that next weekend will be AWESOME.

Now that my kids are taken care of....I started thinking about kids who won't be taken care of this Christmas season. I saw an article on yahoo (in the news section- a video clip) of the post offices receiving all these letters to Santa. Kids are asking for clothes, shoes, jobs for a parent. Even parents are writing letters to Santa asking for clothes for their kids, food to eat, a job, maybe a toy if possible. My heart breaks clean in two when I see stuff like this.

See, I've had tough Christmases. I had the personal meltdowns where I sobbed because I had no way of talking to Santa. My children are blessed individuals to have people who love them and will talk to Santa for them. I will forever hold these people extra close to my heart because of what they did. Now, my children have never gone without food, clothes, or shelter. No sir. But, jeesh, I just wanted them to have at least a small Christmas. Oh, how I want to cry now knowing how I felt then and knowing how these parents feel who are writing to Santa for their own children.

I am in the process of finding our family a Christmas Angel. There are so many children in our own area that are in need. I wish I could take care of all the children who need a pair of shoes, a warm coat, a hot meal, or a bed. If I were to ever be rich, I wouldn't be that way for long because I have to take care of bidness, people.

I will not be able to enjoy my Christmas if we don't help at least one person in need this Christmas season. I don't know exactly how that's going to happen at this moment, but believe me, I'm working on it.

Please, if you possibly can, consider helping a child or family this year. Miss Hope is on a mission right now and would love for you to tag along!!

Decisions Made

2010-12-02T07:59:00.004-05:00

I just love when some decisions are made and I don't have to be the one to make the choice.

The Great Christmas Decision has been made.

We are staying in our home for the holiday this year. The Man's father called last week to inform us that he has accepted a job offer here in Georgia and it's only a few hours down the road from our home. You want to talk about a happy man? My husband is so thrilled that his parents are going to be in the same state and only a few hours away from him. This hasn't happened in over twenty years and he is over the moon.

We were at my parent's house for Thanksgiving and the adults were sitting on the front porch rocking and chattting while the kids played in leaf piles under the trees when he said to me, "I want to be selfish this year. I want my Mom and Dad for Christmas." I just love this man. He has been so easy going and if it is in his power to give to me what I want...then he will do his best to make it happen. (Proof- the 12ft. Christmas Tree in my living room right now-saving for a later post.) I felt helpless when he made that statement because it just wasn't in my power to make this one request of his come true.

Mr. C (the dad-in-law) told his son that he will only have one day off for Christmas since he's starting a new job, but he'll drive over Thursday evening and leave out Sunday to head back. Now, we're working on getting Mrs. M. here. She's still in Nebraska recovering from a cruise they took before Thanksgiving. She had herself a large time on that cruise but her health took a little beating. She's working on getting some rest and getting all her levels straightened out and good again. I am praying hard that she will feel better and we can get her here so she and Mr. C won't be separated at Christmastime.

The kid are excited to spend the holiday with their MiMi and Poppies. For eight years now, they've shared Christmas over a speaker phone as we opened gifts and hollered and laughed at each other. It will be something new for them, but I think they're hoping MiMi will make her awesome pancakes Christmas morning. (I admit it...me,too.)

I just have to say, yet again, that my children are so blessed. They have the most amazing grandparents in the entire world. Seriously, they do. I love my mother and father-in-law for so many reasons, but they'll never know how much I love them just because they love my children. When the girls first met them, The Man and I weren't married, but that four year old Makenna jumped up in Mr. C's arms and it was over for that man. Paige took a little while, but she warmed up to her new grandparents and now? She wouldn't trade them for anything. My Daddy has an extra special place in her heart. You know the place in the heart where girls have men who they love wholeheartedly and without reservation? Well, that sister has her Papa and Poppies filling that space to capacity. Don't get me wrong, she loves her Nana and her MiMi, too, but she gets all soft and mushy when she talks about how she loves her Papa and Poppies. How fortunate is she to have two amazing men from different cultures and backgrounds to be wonderful role models in her life? I admit I might be a little jealous.

I am also blessed that my parents and my in-laws get along so well. Mrs. M and Mama have a great time visiting when they get to see each other (which is rarely). My mother was happy to hear she might get to see Mrs. M more often with this move. I know Mrs. M feels the same way and that just makes me get warm fuzzies.

Okay. Okay. Enough with the mushy gushy love stuff. I am now in the process of planning a menu for Christmas weekend. Gah. I've never had to do such a thing because my Mama has ruled that position as long as I've been alive. On our last visit home, I was able to bully the family recipe for Ambrosia out of my Grandma and Aunt. Lawd have mercy, that's some good stuff. I want to take my own turn at making this tasty dish and I believe Christmas will be the perfect time to do this. ** Side story: We were eating some of this delectable dish at Mama's after Thanksgiving dinner when Makenna came up to me and said, "You DO realize that ambrosia is nectar of the gods." To which I replied, "It's okay, I'm a goddess and totally allowed to eat this." ** Don't bother asking for the recipe, I can't share it. It's like a blood oath thing you have to do in order to get the recipe....something to the effect that your hair will fall out and your vacuum will stay broken forever. I KID. A little. But not much. I can't share it, okay?? But if you ever ate a bowl of it? Yeah, it's THAT good.

The Man wants to fry another turkey. That makes me so nervous because youtube is full of videos of how frying a turkey can go bad. Very bad. He did a perfect job last time he attempted this, but dang. That was military housing. This is MY house. I guess I'll do what I did last time and make him go out in the middle of the back yard and then I will watch anxiously from the window and open the back door to holler suggestions from the safety of the house. I'd rather bake a ham and make some biscuits but he is insistent and you know what? This is HIS holiday this year and if he wants to fry a turkey? By golly, have at it Big Boy.

I love time, you know. It has a way of making us better people or worse. Two years ago, I would have shown my ENTIRE butt over not going to my parent's house for Christmas. I am now able to see past my own selfish self to my husband, the one who has loved me in spite of myself. He needs this so badly and it's such a simple thing to give him. Guess it goes to show that you're never too old to grow up, huh?

This is the honest truth, too. I know he may read this sooner or later (when he's bored at work maybe?). If I don't get a single material gift this Christmas.....I'll be the most blessed of all because my husband's happiness will be gift enough for me.

What to do??

2010-11-21T10:43:00.003-05:00

Miss Hope is in a bit of a quandary over here at The Edge.

I'll give you a little bit of back story before presenting my issue.

When The Man and I were dating, where to spend holidays wasn't a big deal. I was going to be at my parent's house and that was that. The first Christmas we were dating, he spent his time with his family since the Navy doesn't recognize holidays and he wanted to be with his own parents for the first time in over, I *believe*, eleven years. The next Christmas wasn't a huge deal, either. He spent Christmas with me and my family and I went with him the week of New Year's to meet his family as we were pretty serious and talking about marriage. The girls stayed back in South Carolina and this girl flew, for the first (and haven't since-long story I'll have to share later) time, to New Mexico to meet my future in-laws.

Before we got married, I told that man I would go anywhere in the world with him 363 days out of the year, but all I ask is to spend Christmas with my parents/family. Christmas is very important deal for my family and my Daddy is guaranteed to be in a festive mood for his favorite holiday. He agreed because his parents had moved to Nebraska and he swore he would not go someplace where there was the possibility of getting snowed in.

And so life went on.

When we moved to Southeast Georgia, we would gladly travel back to South Carolina to spend Christmas with my family. We wouldn't have it any other way. For four Christmases, I-95 North bound was our holiday road to happiness and Santa.

Now, here we are. In our "forever" home. That has a lovely stone fireplace in the center of the living room. I am seriously excited over decorating my new home for the holidays....to the point that I've bought more decorations than gifts and must fix that soon! I want to be in our home for Christmas. I want to wake up in my bed Christmas morning and take pictures of the kids coming down the staircase to see what Santa Claus left them. I want to stay in my pajamas all day sipping coffee, napping, playing with new toys, and just relaxing.

I want to go to my parent's, too. I don't want to miss a Christmas with my parents, my brother and sister in law, my niece and nephew, my Grandma and Aunt.

~sigh~

I'm tired of taking two vehicles because one can't hold us AND the gifts that need to go for the Christmas Visit. I'm tired of turning around and loading up two vehicles to come back home to lonely Christmas decorations that weren't properly enjoyed.

I've talked with our family about staying here for the holiday and they can go either way. The kids are older and staying here in their own home is very appealing. At the supper table one night, I got animated talking about starting our very own new traditions. I wanted input from them as to what we could do just for us! I mentioned getting Nana's breakfast quiche recipe for Christmas morning (that is GOOD stuff), when the girls shot each other a look. Finally, Paige was brave enough to say the quiche is "ok", but they really only eat it because Nana cooks it. I was shocked. They would prefer The Man to make Mimi's (his mom) pancakes because they are amazing. I see.

I was frustrated because I felt our little family didn't have a single solitary tradition of our own for the season.

I was wrong.

When The Man and I were talking about when to start decorating, I said, "I better stock up on the hot chocolate, because when the ornaments come out, Makenna will be heading to the kitchen to make her Holiday Decorating Hot Chocolate."

We have a tradition!!! Of our very own!!

Time is flying by so quickly and I'm going to have to make up my mind very soon as to what we're going to do come December 24. We're heading that way for Thanksgiving next week for a few days and I'm looking forward to the good eating that'll be going on.

I just don't know what to do next month. I want to make every body happy and we all know making every one happy is near impossible.

I really need this decision to be easy. I really do.

Wedding Day Follies

2010-11-17T08:10:00.004-05:00

This past weekend my sister, Lu, got married. For the first time. I was honored to stand by her side when she married a really great guy named Chris.

A little background about the two of us. We've been friends since we were seven years old in the second grade. We have more memories than should be legal between our lives. We've shared every up and down and everything else that goes in the middle of those ups and downs. I haven't called her my best friend in years because I believe we're past that point now. They say you can't choose your family. I beg to differ. I wasn't blessed with a blood sister, but I sure enough picked that gal to be my sister. Our children call us "Aunt" and believe themselves to be first cousins. We wouldn't have it any other way.

When I first moved away back in 2006, it was hard on us. We hadn't been separated since we were seven and we just didn't know how we'd manage the 6 hour drive between homes. I should have known we wouldn't let a little distance stop us. Both our families made the drive many times and we made it work. Then, my family moved to upper Georgia and that cut the drive in half. Oh, joy. We weren't moved in good, just partially unpacked, when she loaded up her twins (who are the same age as Makenna) and came for the weekend.

I received a picture text message on my phone showing her hand with a diamond shining brightly on that left hand. Game on. Wedding planning started and I really hated the distance factor because I wanted to be right there with her every single step of the way. Silly me. Technology stepped in yet again and helped the two of us share every single step. Tiffany is Lu's best friend back home. I have sister status, Tiff has best friend status. I adore Tiffany and she was amazing with sending me picture text messages when Lu went to try on wedding dresses. We talked a good bit on the phone and one thing was very clear. We were both thrilled to pieces for our girl and wanted her day to be as perfect as possible. I couldn't have asked for a better fellow bridesmaid to make this party happen.

Many many many nights Lu and I would sit on the computer on Yahoo messenger sharing links and ideas. Her wedding came together piece by piece as we schemed and talked and surfed a never ending Internet land. I was able to get the perfect dress for me in the color she chose here in my town, so my end of the deal came together effortlessly.

I believe I forgot to mention that she planned her wedding around The Man's schedule. He was to finish his class up North on November 12th. She planned her day for November 13th so he could be there to share the day, too. Suffice it to say, this past weekend was just flat out awesome in my personal book. I got my husband back after being gone for nine weeks and my girl got married. I was floating more than I was walking.

Friday found us decorating the church and fellowship hall at the church where the ceremony was to take place. Lu, Tiff, and myself spent more time laughing than we did working. (Thank you Church Ladies for making this happen!) Friday night gave us a hilarious rehearsal that had Lu turning pure white every time she thought about walking down the aisle by herself. I assured her that if I got to the front and she was stuck? I'd walk myself right back down that aisle and get her. My escort was her soon to be stepson...a very handsome 15 year old young man who's personality and sense of humor matched mine perfectly. Of course, that worried everyone else around us quite a bit. We all enjoyed a nice supper afterward and since we agreed we were all too old to handle any type of bachelor or bachelorette parties, we headed back home for the night. I had to get home to wait for my husband to arrive! I almost fell asleep before he rolled in at midnight but I couldn't wait to see his face! It didn't help that my Daddy (we stayed at my parent's house) stayed up with me and all he would watch was old westerns. Ugh. That's a sure fire way to put this girl straight to sleep.

Can I just say I LOVED Saturday? I was able to wake up beside my husband and leave our kids in his care and know I didn't have to worry about getting them to the church. Tiff picked me up bright and early at 8 a.m. so we could head off to get our hair and makeup done for the 3 p.m. wedding. We stopped to get one very anxious and out of sorts Lu. We scooted by to pick up a frappe for me and food for them. Our time at the salon was awesome. I informed the stylist I wanted to channel Marilyn Monroe. I had the short hair to pull off that short teased curled style she was famous for having. I proclaimed I was a large woman who wanted large hair and dramatic makeup! We laughed and took many pictures of going from plain to glamorous. We had to be at the church by 1 p.m. and we were 15 minutes late and had Lu declaring she needed a nerve pill from the back seat.

Time flew by from that point on to walking in the sanctuary. I was teary-eye'd helping her put on her wedding gown and seeing her transform into this beautiful bride. The twins looked like proper young ladies in their dresses and the men were just so handsome our teeth hurt to look at them. I felt like my face was going to break because I was smiling so big from the sheer happiness of the occasion. Tiff and I were scared to death we were going to bawl during the ceremony and ruin our expensive makeup jobs.

My cousin Tripp is a close friend of Lu's also. He and The Man were ushers (not groomsmen) and as we stood in the foyer of the sanctuary, Lu started turning white again at the thought of walking out in front of all those people waiting to see her get married. The Man was already manning the video camera at this point and Tripp was helping the wedding director get every one down the aisle properly. Tiff and I were last and we were about to take our turns walking in when Lu exclaimed, "Wait a minute! Why can't Tripp walk me down the aisle?" The wedding director turned to her and said, "This is your day. He can do whatever you want him to do."

At that moment, my cousin simply walked over and held the crook of his arm out to Lu. Not one word was said. She put her arm in his and I saw complete peace and calmness come over her. It was then my turn to head down the aisle. I was so touched by that one little scene that I almost forget what I was supposed to do when I reached the front of the church!

Lu is a die hard South Carolina Gamecock fan. Chris is a die hard Clemson fan. Uh oh. He jokingly declared that there would be NO red/garnet anywhere in his wedding. Is that right, big boy? Tiff and I conspired beforehand to have a special surprise for Mr. Chris. At our pedicures earlier in the week, we both had "C's" put on our big toes. One orange one for Chris and one red one for Lu. When we reached the alter and walked up, we swung by Chris and with fanfare, pulled up the hems of our gowns to show our toes representing the two of them. He laughed and I feel sure appreciated our sense of humor. (The C's stood for Cocks (pet name for the Gamecocks) and Clemson.)

That wedding march started and I saw that girl come down the aisle looking as fabulous as a person possibly could look. My handsome cousin handed her off to her twins who then walked her up to meet Chris. It was a beautiful ceremony and I kept looking at Tiff and grinning from ear to ear. We had no tears we were so happy for the two of them.

When they went to light the unity candle, I had to move over behind Tiff and one of the twins. By this point, this large girl was feeling the effects of the cute silver high heel shoes. I made an executive decision to discreetly leave them behind the full fern I was standing beside and take my chances barefoot. I whispered to Tiff that I was leaving my shoes behind and she started looking down!! I was told her, 'DUDE! DON'T LOOK AND DRAW ATTENTION!' No one would have ever known if I hadn't kicked my foot out before taking the first step down off of the alter (pre-planned move between me and my escort). My mother was sitting on the second row and her eyes narrowed when she saw my bare toes come out from under the dress. I shamed her, I do believe with that move....BUT, OMG, THE SHOES WERE MURDERING ME! I told people who commented that I was so glamorous that I had to bring it down a notch.

The rest of the afternoon and evening flew by and was perfect. I was so exhausted by the time we got back to my parent's house. I had to wash my hair three times to get all the hairspray and teasing tamed. I was also reminded as to why I don't wear waterproof mascara. Gah, that stuff has to have illegal ingredients to stay like it does on your lashes. Hate it.

I feel like this huge letdown has come upon me. You know, like after your birthday or Christmas has come and gone? You get so excited and anxious and then it's gone. Over. I'm just so happy the day was perfect and sunny and cool and just flat out enjoyable.

Here's to my girl Lu and her new husband Chris! I pray you have many many years together full of happiness. Chris? Take care of my sister or strange things might happen. I'm just saying. Love you both!

P.S. I don't have any pictures yet, but I may have to post one or two when I get my hands on them!

Let me TELL You!

2010-10-30T11:07:00.003-04:00

Holy smokes have I been busy.

My husband and I were really excited about retiring from the Navy last year. I had visions of a nice little civilian life where we lived in a house with a normal life.

Ha.

My husband's new job requires him to go up North for classes here and there for a while. He's been gone now for seven weeks with two weeks left to go. The company is gracious enough to fly him home on occasion, and while we are ever so grateful for that? Less than 48 hours a visit just isn't enough.

This isn't our first rodeo. We've done this work related separation gig before (and will again), but it's just a pain in the ever-lovin' butt. The kids and I have done really well this time. I have a pretty strict routine going on in the evenings that keeps my boy on the smooth side. The girls have really stepped up and helped out with being easy going and mostly drama free.

I had the bright idea to start dental work a few weeks ago. I was sitting here one day and all of a sudden it hit me....We haven't been to the dentist since last November right before retirement!! Crap. I immediately started setting up appointments for all of us and decided that now was the time to take Paige in to get her started on braces for her teeth. I had a list of providers from our new dental insurance and started at the top of the list and started doing some crude research. I looked up the first doctor and he had an awesome website. Hmmm...if he can afford such a cool website, maybe we need to call and talk to him? I called and got the best receptionist ever. She convinced me that I should take Makenna on in and let him check her out and make sure all is well with her. No problem. I asked her who she used as her personal dentist and she gladly told me. I checked and this dentist was on the list. SCORE. I asked her if she had a pediatric dentist she used. She did and I checked and found out his name was on my list, too. DOUBLE SCORE.

Within two weeks, I had all our teeth nice and clean. Guess who has the cavity that has to be fixed. No, not the six year old I struggle with every morning to brush his teeth more than ten seconds. No, not the tween who digs candy. No, not the teen who ...well, she's a fanatic about being clean and hygiene so we know it's not her. Yeah, it's me. I was shocked. And mad. The dentist said it's a teeny tiny one we need to take care of before it gets bad and I agree. I asked him if he would have to do a shot. He replied yes. I then said, "Well, you suck." He laughed and said he's been told worse. I was able to score my appointment on the day The Man has his cleaning ( he is not used to making his own dental appointments- the military has a way of telling you when to do things). The pediatric dentist thought it a good idea to take Makenna in to the orthodontist so we could know about when to start her on braces...he figured approximately 12-18 months from now.

So, I took my girls to the orthodontist.

When the doctor walked in, I shook his hand and said, "What are you? 12?" He laughed and said right back at me, "No ma'am, I'm 13!" Loved him immediately. (He is a very nice 33 with 3 girls and another on the way.) He examined Paige and was pleased with her mouth. (I laugh to myself as I type that.) He informed her that she would be in braces a MAXIMUM of 18 months because her problems were mostly minor and they would fix her overbite for her. Easy peasy. Nice.

Makenna then jumped up in the chair and got examined. I should have known something was up.

After he finished, I was informed that my child is going to need a Herbst appliance put in her mouth. Her lower jaw isn't acting like it's supposed to and she apparently has TMJ. (This is a link to the appliance. If you ask me? It looks like my baby is in for a miserable time.) (The link is also the orthodontist we're using so look at the younger guy and tell me he doesn't look 12!)

Excuse me?

He then went on to tell me that after wearing this appliance for a year to get her jaw straightened out, she will wear a full set of braces for over another year.

Seriously?

I told him that I didn't bring her in to get braces. I was just letting him check her out so he could tell me to bring her back in 12-18 months for the regular stuff. I think I was in shock.

He was very kind to me and explained it all again very patiently. We need to address this issue now while she's younger and we can manipulate the jaw to do what we need to make it normal.

~sigh~

Two kids in braces. At one time. Holy cow on a stick.

I started texting my husband, who is way up North in a class. He left class to call and tell me to do what we had to in order to get the ball rolling.

This past Tuesday, I took my girls to get metal mouths. Makenna will have four braces across the front top to get her started while she's wearing the appliance. Did I mention that she's missing a permanent molar? Uh huh. My mother missed an incisor and I just found out at the dentist last week that I, too, am missing a molar but my wisdom tooth jumped in and filled the gap. Hold on a second while I sigh yet again.

While all these orthodontist appointments are going on, I decided to postpone my son getting evaluated for speech until next week. He's lost a front top tooth and I could just lick his cute face, but it's going to wreak havoc on the lisp he's already got.

And where is my husband while all of this is going on? Not here. This always happens and I'm not surprised at all. Can I handle it? You bet your fanny I can. I always have. It just wears a sister out, ya know?

Oh, and since my husband has ventured north where he has been able to attend an Indians baseball game (his team!), a Pirates baseball game, visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the NFL Hall of Fame and partake in at least two friendly poker tournaments...I have trekked back to South Carolina three times. I had my cousin's wedding to attend and my life friend Lu is getting married in a couple of weeks and yours truly is the matron of honor so, of course, I have to attend a shower in her honor! I am a tad bit worn out because there never seems to be a break in there for me, but it's all good. So much going on equals much fun. I tell my friends and family that if I can make it through Thanksgiving this year, they might not see me for a while. I may just have to take a month off before Santa pays a visit to our new home.

I'll be back in a day or two to fill you in a few more happenings around The Edge. Right now, I have to get that Man of Mine to hang some drapes in our newly painted office before he jets back out of here tomorrow. We might even go hit a local corn maze if we get froggy. Have a good rest of the weekend!

I Believe

2010-10-21T08:06:00.004-04:00

I believe every woman (or man who likes to cook) should know how to make a pot of rice. There's alot you can do with rice. Being from The South dictates that I know how to make rice because there's going to be a church potluck or family dinner that will require this dish. For some people, this is an easy dish. Two cups of water for one cup of rice for twenty minutes covered just doesn't cut some times, Internets. You have to be one with your stove and pots. I have one pot that can cook perfect rice. If I get all wonky acting and grab the wrong pot? My rice isn't up to par. My stove in Saint Marys was older, but it would cook that rice perfect in 18 minutes. My new flat top I now have? Takes 22 minutes to finish it up to perfection. Know how to make rice is good advice.

I believe that everyone should own a nice set of dress clothes. Two sets would be perfect. People die and get married all the time. There's nothing worse than having to attend a wake and funeral and you have nothing to wear. What's worse is if you're the one grieving and having to shop for something appropriate. My family goes to church so I am prepared for such occasions. Little boys need those khaki pants and a button down because tennis shoes at the funeral just aren't right (in my opinion). Black pants and a black skirt are essential to a woman's wardrobe. You can work whatever season is happening if you have those two staples sitting in your closet. Don't forget shoes. If you don't dress up often, you don't have to spend a fortune on dress shoes. Get those cute ballet flats for the ladies and grab a pair of dress shoes for the guys. Having them on hand is really a good thing.

I believe in being nice to your spouse. Some of you may have a raised eyebrow at this, but it's very important. I always try to tell my husband "Thank You" when he does something for me...no matter how small it might be. Fixing my cup of coffee, doing a home project, paying a bill, taking a kid for an appointment all warrant a heartfelt thank you from this gal. I know it sure makes me feel good when my husband tells me thank you for something I've done. This is my second (and last!) marriage...I want to do it as right as I possibly can. Besides, in the long run, it shows our kids that parents who respect each other and use manners is a good thing. Hopefully, they'll grow up and do the same!

I believe in Santa. Oh, yes, I do. That kindly old soul leaves me a little something under my Mama's tree every year because of my belief. To believe in Santa is to believe in magic. (good, not evil) I love the Christmas season because it's Jesus' birthday and giving is just so much fun! Now, when I was kid, the receiving part was my specialty, but as I've gotten older? I love to give. I love to find that perfect present for a friend or family member and when they open it and their eyes light up...man, that's good stuff.

I believe in a can of good hairspray. Yes, I am a child of the 80's and we who grew up then know what a good can of hairspray can do for a head of hair. Alas (and thankfully!) the days of high hair are gone, but there will come an occasion where you need that hair to stay fabulous and nothing helps better than a good can of hairspray. I have a regular every day can that I lightly spray over my head to tame those blasted flyaways, but underneath my bathroom sink is a can of high dollar liquid cement. I love that can of hairspray and secretly get thrilled when I have a reason to use it. I'm 16 again and freezing my hairstyle before hitting the door.

I believe everyone should be good at something. I don't care what it is you do. It can be cooking, cleaning, painting a house, gardening, singing, or dancing. Just find something that you excel at and can be proud of your ability in that area. I'm good at babies. I have been called The Baby Whisperer at times. I love babies and have this knack for figuring out their problems when they're fussy and I have ether in my arms when I hold them. I can lay my hands on a baby's forehead and tell you if they have a temperature and what it is to the degree. (The new digital thermometers throw me but I can usually get it to within a point range. For example, I'll tell you a temp is 99.8 and the digital thermometer will say 99.9 or 99.7.) It's true! I thought I had lost my touch and was tested a couple of weekends ago with a 14 month old. I was barely off from the digital reading. Made me brush my knuckles on my chest and bask in the knowledge that I still got it. I don't know if I'll be able to retain this indefinitely since I don't have access to baby sweetness on a regular basis now. If not? Then it'll be time to find something else I'm good at doing.

I believe raising kids will be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I never knew how hard it would be to let my children grow and make their own mistakes. I never knew that I could hurt so badly in my heart when I see my child suffering or hurt (mentally and/or physically). I'm not a violent person, but loving my children as much as I do has shown me that I would hurt anyone in my path if they meant my child harm. I never knew that opening myself to love my children unconditionally would have the power to make me grow as a person, woman, mother, sister, daughter, and friend. I would never ever trade my life with my children. Nothing can compare to the richness of color they've added to my life.

I believe I will go tackle the mountain of laundry I have waiting for me in the hallway. I'm trying to conserve energy and bring my light bill down a little bit by doing larger loads in my front loader. So far? It seems to be working. How about that? Oh, and Wynonna Judd is on Good Morning America and I have loved her since the 80's. She's one of my all time favorites.

What do YOU do?

2010-10-15T08:30:00.004-04:00

I must be on some kind of "Love My Country" kick here. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but if something unexpected ever happens to me, at least my kids will know I was a patriotic soul. (Yes, I am grinning as I type that.)

So.....when is the last time you thanked a service member or veteran for their service to your country? Seriously. When is the last time you walked up to someone and just said, "Thank you for your service to the United States (or insert your country's name here)."? I can count at least three times in the past two weeks I've done this.

I love the older veterans. Just love them. They're usually men who wear those ball caps proudly that states they are retired Navy/Army/Air Force/Marine across the top. Some say Korean Veteran, or Vietnam Veteran or something to that effect. Since we live in a military town, I come across alot of them when I'm on post/base or out shopping.

For example, this past summer, I took Paige and her friend Tina to the bus stop in the mornings to catch the bus to summer school. One morning, we took Prissy to the groomer before going to the bus. As Tina and I were waiting for Paige to come back out, I saw this elderly gentleman coming out of the groomer and shuffling to his truck parked on my passenger side. I noticed his hat that boasted he was a Korean Veteran. I rolled down the window as he came around the front of my truck and said, "Sir!?! Excuse me, Sir?" He walked over to the window and I stuck my hand out across the empty passenger seat and said, "Sir, I'd like to thank you for your service to our country! I really appreciate your sacrifice." He was speechless for a second and the biggest smile broke out across his face. He took the next few minutes to tell me a little of his enlistment and some of the things he encountered. I listened with respect, shook his hand again, and wished him a blessed day. He got in his truck and from the back seat behind me, I heard Tina say, "Miss Hope, that was just cool." I shrugged and told her it was the least I could do. (Her dad is active duty Army.)

This past week I was at our local W*lmart when an elderly gentleman, in his snazzy personal scooter, was going by me. He was trying to reach for something on the shelf and I gladly handed it to him. He thanked me profusely and I said, "Oh, Sir, it was my pleasure and I thank you for your service to our country!" (He had one of those cool ball caps on, too.) He grinned so big and said at least three times, "Thank you!" . Now, I ask you, how hard is that to do?

Yesterday, I took the girls to the dentist. As I sat in the waiting room reading a magazine, I saw a lady sit down. I was thrilled to see her wearing blue digi's (that would be blue camouflage battle dress uniform). Yeah, boy, I do love to see a woman in uniform! Girl Power! I saw the anchors on her collar (GO NAVY!) and just couldn't help myself. I said, "I can't see from here... are you a Chief or Senior Chief?" She told she was a Chief and there the conversation started. She just made Chief this past year and was settling into her new job duties. I got to hear how she is a translator who speaks Arabic and how she is a single Mom making it work in the military. We had a great conversation and when it was time for me to go back to get the report on my girls, I shook her hand and told her I surely appreciated all her hard work and her service to our country.

(These are just a few examples. My kids will tell you I do this on a regular basis.)

Just in case you didn't know, being in the military is hard job. I promise the pay isn't that great, but we are fortunate that we have people who love their country. My own husband only joined the Navy to serve one term and utilize the G.I. Bill. Nothing wrong with that, either. Little did he know he would love his job so much that he would stick it out for twenty years!

I'm not saying I approach everyone I see and thank them. I'd never get any shopping done on post/base if I did that! I do try and make the extra effort when I see the older generations. My Daddy served in Vietnam. Those who served there weren't really welcomed back with open arms. People tend to forget that these boys were DRAFTED. They weren't given the choice at that time. Now, he's starting to suffer some repercussions from that experience from his youth. I love that man with all my heart and I hate to see him suffer in any way shape or form. Even though he only served what he was required, I know he loves this country deeply and would do what was required of him all over again.

I know many of you reading this don't see veterans on a regular basis. Maybe you do and you don't know it? Veteran's Day is coming up and many schools recognize this day. Please, if you have family members who have served our country? Thank them! Share with your children or nieces and nephews the great people in their lives.

Thanking someone is an easy and simple thing to do. Who knows? You could make someone's day/week/month by taking just a few minutes to stop or call and just say "Thanks."

Now, I have to go clean some house because The Man, my own personal veteran, will be coming home for the weekend from his class up North. I believe I'll tell him Thank You yet again!

Controversy

2010-10-04T08:07:00.003-04:00

You know what I love about my country? Until things change (and I sure hope they don't!), I am allowed to have my very own personal opinion. How cool is that? Actually, it's a good thing since I am a very opinionated person. I have many many people who can attest to that fact.

Just so we're square with each other, let's please understand that my blog posts consist of MY opinions. If you share my opinions? Awesome! If you don't? I'd love to hear your side, but don't go and get ugly on me now. Respect is a mighty fine word if used correctly!

I support Arizona and what they are trying to do to control the illegal immigrant issues that are happening. I live in Georgia, and that's quite a few miles down the road from Arizona. We have serious illegal immigrant issues going on here. Everywhere I look, I see people who aren't here legally and I get so angry over it. Why? Because they are taking jobs away from American citizens. Our country is struggling and we're giving away jobs to people who are here illegally.

The other day, The Man, The Boy, and myself went on post/base (I say it like that because apparently the Navy and Army call their homes different terms) to run some errands. Do you know what I have to do to drive my vehicle past the armed gate? I have to have a certain sticker on my car (that states it is registered with government and approved to drive on base/post.), I have to show a military I.D. to the guard and it has to be current. I have to PROVE that I am allowed to go past that gate. As I drove to the commissary, I quietly fumed over the fact that I have to prove on a regular basis that I have the legal right to be in this country when I was born on American soil.

If a member of law enforcement were to approach me and ask to see my identification, I would have to prove that I am who I am. I have a driver's license that proves I have complied with the LAW and went through proper channels so I can drive a vehicle in this country. I have proof of insurance and a registration that also shows my willingness to comply with the law governing vehicles on our roads.

If I am away from my home, I can guarantee you I will have at LEAST two forms of a picture I.D. with me. I am perfectly okay with this. You want me to prove I am who I am? Hold on a second and let me get my wallet. I'll be GLAD to show you my identification.

Now, before you go and get upset with me, let me tell you this. I have a Hispanic last name. Oh, yes, I do. My handsome husband is either 3rd or 4th generation (on both sides) Mexican and Czechoslovakian. What a combination that man of mine has flowing through his veins! He has his mother's anglo features and his father's coloring. Many people think he's Italian when they first meet him. My son has my chin, but he looks like his Poppies (my father-in-law) spit him out. When I see the two of them together or pictures of my FIL when he was a young child, I am amazed that this kid who is 75% Caucasian, 12.5% Mexican, and 12.5% Mayan Indian looks as Hispanic as he does. Why, his last name is more Hispanic than him!

My favorite recent moment was at open house for 1st grade this year. His teacher asked us if The Boy spoke Spanish. I stopped. Blinked. And looked at her. I said, "Why?". Her eyes got real big and she stuttered as she said, "Well, his last name is Hispanic.....?" I looked at myself and back at her and said, "I am the original white girl, and you ask me that?" She looked as if she had put her foot on a land mine and was deathly afraid to move. My husband went on to explain to her that we don't do the African American, Hispanic American, Asian American, Native American terms in our home. We are all Americans and we speak the language of our constitution-English. (Personally, I wish we did speak Spanish some at home, but the only person who knows any is Paige and she's only in Spanish II in high school.) Let the record show that when I have to fill out forms for anything, such as school, or doctors, I never check the ethnicity box. I always check "Other" and fill in the blank with "United States of America natural born citizen". The color of skin shouldn't matter.

*I know I'm rambling and I'm pretty sure there's a point in here somewhere, so hang with me until I find it, please.*

A few weeks ago, my next door neighbor decided to build a retaining wall between his house and ours. The houses are built on hills here with each house a few feet higher than the previous one. Erosion dictated that he needed to shore up his side. I was excited that he was doing this because we also need to build one on the other side between us and the next neighbors. I told him to bring the crew in and if they did a good job? Then we'd get them next! I ran an errand a few days later to come home and find two guys in his yard making plans on how to build this wall. I walked over, stuck out my hand, introduced myself, and expressed my excitement and hopes of getting my own wall. They were very friendly and outgoing...picking up Prissy and chatting. I left them to make plans and went about my business. The next week a work crew shows up and get busy quick. I took Prissy outside for her personal business and strolled over to the edge of my patio. I spoke to the crew working. A simple "Hello"..not expecting great conversation. The one white guy in the group laughed and hollered back all good boy sounding and said, "They don't none of them speak no English." This was one of the guys I had spoken to earlier. I said, "Really?" He replied with a "No ma'am." I then said..."So, none of them are here legally." Didn't ask, simply stated. He froze and I just turned and walked back inside. I was so livid and angry. I so need that stupid retaining wall but it will be a cold day in Hades before I'd use this company.

I have a brother-in-law who was laid off from work. He is a very talented carpenter(journeyman). He has put in resumes all over the flippin' country but is too qualified to get hired or won't work for $25.00 a day because he has a family to provide for and raise. He WANTS to work. Therefore, he is having to take simple handyman jobs to make some money when he should be working 5 days a week with some occasional over time thrown in.

I get so put out with the whole issue. By the way, if you think I'M opinionated on this subject? Please, please, PLEASE, don't open this subject with my conservative, originally from Arizona, of Hispanic heritage husband. I love visiting Arizona (that state is so beautiful), but I don't think we need to go until things settle down some. I can see my husband opening his mouth at the wrong time in the wrong place it getting ugly quicker than you can blink.

So, I believe that if American citizens have to comply with American laws, then those who are here legally and/or visiting should also. I believe if you are here illegally? Go home. Come back the right way. I would never leave the USA without an American issued passport and there are very few countries I would even visit to need one. If you disagree with me? I'd love to hear your opinion!

p.s. Please, don't tell my husband about this post.

Your Face

2010-10-01T11:17:00.003-04:00

WARNING: Total Girly Post...and it's a long one, too!

Let's talk about our faces for a minute, shall we? How many of you older gals had you some acne growing up? I was one of the lucky ones and only suffered from the occasional breakout when I enjoyed too much chocolate or was dealing with that time of the month. I had peaches and cream complexion that I miss and wish I could see on my personal being one more time. Now? I found at around age 35, my facial skin started hating me in a bad way.

My Paige hasn't been so lucky. When she hit that puberty era wide open, acne attacked her skin and showed no mercy. I was so terrified and scared because there were times I was sure she was going to have bad scars that would haunt her the rest of her life. I bought every single thing I could think of that might would help her. When I say everything? I mean everything. That cost mucho money. I hit up the department stores that boast those swanky makeup counters and started buying. I hit up those ladies who sell makeup and such from their home and tried whatever they had going on. Many times I stared at her face wondering what could we try that would bring out the beautiful skin I knew was there.

Carla Girl had some skin issues going on and had to go to the dermatologist. He flat out told her to get rid of all that expensive stuff and bring it back to basics. Noxema. No kidding. He told her that's all she needed and his own teenage daughters used it. When she told me this, I paused and thought maybe he was onto something.

For those of you who were teenagers 15 plus years ago, do you remember those big blue tubs of Noxema we had to dig into? That thick heavy cream that could clear your sinuses? That's what I envisioned and looked for. Lo and behold! It comes in a pump bottle now! I bought two bottles. One for me and one for the teenager. When I used it the first time, I was taken back to the 80's where it took ALOT of that stuff to get that blue eyeshadow off my eyes. Well, guess what I found out? I love it. It has done wonders for my skin and I don't know why on earth I gave it up. No more swanky expensive stuff for this girl. No sir. I'm keeping it simple and clean.

(I am not being paid to endorse Noxema. I don't have some giveaway from them for you to grab. I love the product and just want to share with you what is working for us.)

I have a wonderful friend who has been extolling the virtues of vitamins for many years. I admit that it went in one ear and out the other. (You know..the eyeroll and "whatever" attitude that adults can do as well as any teenager?) My Makenna decided to hit a growth spurt and grow 6 inches in less than 6 months. I'm telling you, a garden grows slower than she does. I started thinking that maybe it would be a good idea to get a multi-vitamin for the girls. When you're young, you don't really care about taking care of your insides (i.e. the female reproductive organs and bones!). Well, I care! I don't want to ever give birth again with this tired old body, but I surely want some sweet beautiful grandchildren one day! I bought a bottle of teen multi-vitamins and decided to grab one of the generic kind geared for women for myself.

And so it began.

How many of you get fever blisters? DON'T YOU JUST HATE THEM?!?! Oh. My. Lawd. I loathe the fever blister and if I run any teeny tiny fever or get super stressed, I wake up with this huge hocking sore up on my top lip. I had this suspicion that I got this dormant virus (yes, I know it's a form of herpes) back in high school. See, there was this boy that I just adored with every fiber of my being. If I had a chance to smooch him? You know I took it. I know he got them occasionally and I feel pretty sure I threw caution to the wind and smooched him when he had one. Shoot, I probably would have kissed him if he had a mouth full of mud. It was worth it then, not so worth it now. My Makenna has been cursed because of this, I believe. She has the dormant virus but when it flares? It comes out in her eye. IN the eye. To where it can destroy her cornea if left untreated. Maybe I had a flare up on my lip when she was little and I kissed her near her eye and she got it. I don't know and will probably never know. All I know is that she has this and I live in fear of her having flare ups in her eye. She has had a total of four flare ups since she was first diagnosed at age 5 and each one sends me into a massive tizzy getting her to an eye doctor to get treated. We're talking drops in her eyes up to ten times a day for a long time. Four to six weeks worth. No kidding. When she gets sick? I panic and watch her eyes like a hawk. When she had her two surgeries, I frantically told the doctors we had to be prepared for this to happen since her immune system would be compromised. I saw the picture the doctors took of the inside of her eye from the first flare up. It was scary as all get out. I never want to see that again on my child.

That's why we take L-lysine. I've had many people swear by this and I keep this huge bottle in the cabinet because when I would get a fever blister? I'd start taking them like crazy. Popping them like a pregnant woman pops Tums. It would help, but that sucker would still sit on my lip like leprosy.

L-lysine (great link to read about it-just click here!) is something I decided might would be great to take on a daily basis along with the multi-vitamin. Makenna and I now take one a day to keep the flare ups away. I believe it may be beneficial in other areas, too. Take a look see at the link I provided and see what you think. Makenna hates taking it with a passion as it's big and chalky and nasty. I'm not too happy with it, but when we were on vacation, we were on the way home and I was worn out. I had a blister pop up on my lip but it was barely there. BARELY THERE! It was gone way sooner than usual and I fully believe it was because I take this every day. Paige did her own research on L-lysine (thank goodness she doesn't get fever blisters!) and decided she wanted to take it, too.

B-12 was another vitamin I wanted to check out. (another great link to look at!) Paige and I seemed to struggle for energy and I wanted to see what I could do to amp it up naturally. B-12 seemed to be a good option. This has been another vitamin we've added to our daily intake and walk to being more healthy individuals.

Vitamin E is a vitamin I like, too. (See what you think by clicking here!) This article I'm sharing doesn't fully endorse using Vitamin E for scars, but I, personally, have had good experience with using it for this purpose. I bought a bottle of gel caps and when I have a place that looks like it will be a scar? I open one up and rub it into the place in question and put a band-aid over it. In fact, I have one now on the back of my hand that is MUCH better because of doing this. You can judge for yourself. Needless to say, a gel cap of vitamin E is one we take.

You're probably thinking by now "Dang, Miss Hope, that's ALOT of things to be taking at one time!" And I agree. Paige's medication holder looks like it belongs to an old lady because she takes allergy medication, too. Yet, every single morning, she takes her allergy meds, vitamins, and nerve pill (poor soul has very high anxiety). Let me tell you this.....HER FACE IS CLEAR. Beautifully clear. Amazingly clear. My baby wouldn't even leave the house without foundation because her acne was so bad. Now? It's an OPTION. She doesn't have to wear it! Now, she only battles a small monthly breakout and it is nowhere near as bad as it was before. I marvel at her clear skin and am so glad she didn't have to take acne medication to clear it up. That stuff scared me silly. I was so afraid that if I put her on acne medication that it could harm her in some future way...like having babies. Call me paranoid, but it's my job to take care of my kids and I'm doing the absolute best I can.

Makenna is still a work in progress. I would LOVE for her to willingly take the teen multi-vitamin, L-lysine, and Vitamin E daily. I keep the bottles on the table and make her take them at supper. I hope she'll finally snap out of her sassy stage and realize they will help her more than she realizes. She's starting to get that forehead and nose breakout areas because puberty is visiting her with fanfare and meanness.

I finally broke down and purchased my own medication holder for the days of the week. It has helped me so much to make sure I take these much needed vitamins and medications (singulair and nexium and half of a nerve pill). I really urge and encourage all you women out there to check these vitamins out and if you have teenage girls? PLEASE, consider yet again the benefits of giving those fast developing bodies a little extra help.

I'm not leaving the guys out now. My husband now takes a multi-vitamin for men daily, but I have yet to find one that my son will take without being put in a choke hold. Teenage boys need vitamins just as much as teenage girls. Have you seen one lately? They're thin as broom sticks and eat like crazy people!

Let's just say this a subject near and dear to me and I wanted to share how we cleared up one teenager's face that was full of bad acne. In searching for a solution for her, I discovered that this body of mine has given birth three times and might need a little extra help, too. I admit I feel better and my skin looks better than it has in years. YaY Vitamins!

You go on and have yourselves a wonderful weekend. The air a tiny bit cooler here and I need to start Christmas shopping!

Just Another Date

2010-09-13T10:21:00.003-04:00

This past Saturday was a tough anniversary for our country. September 11 has so much power over those of us who love this country.

Usually, when Saturday rolls around, we're doing work around the house. This past Saturday was no different. We're not constantly going and going on a normal basis. We tend to sit down and play a game or two on the computer before moving on to the next chore on the list. The Man and The Boy were out doing a little Build and Grow at our local Lowe's with a hair cut to follow. I knew they were going to be gone for a while, so the girls and I weren't running ninety miles an hour to get things done. I decided to put the channel on the television to shows dedicated to remembering that fateful day.

I listened to the stories of survival while I play a few games of Bejeweled Blitz until I had to stop and just watch. The tears kept leaking out of my eyes as I watched grown men talk of the horror and devastation they witnessed that day with their own tears rolling down their cheeks. I found myself getting a tad bit irritated at Makenna because she was reading one of her stories online and was totally ignoring what was being said on the television.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I initiated conversation with her about September 11. She was two years old when this occurred so I knew she was unable to recall any emotion from that particular time period. I told her how I watched the twin towers fall right before my very eyes on the television. I told her how I saw people running for their lives, not knowing what was going on...just knowing they had to flee. I needed her to ...I don't know...UNDERSTAND just how awful it was. I needed her to know how I cried that whole day because I was scared.

Things happen in our lives that we have no control over. I wasn't here for that fateful day in December when Pearl Harbor was viciously attacked. I can't even begin to imagine the fear our country felt in the face of that particular uncertainty. I know I sat in my living room that day with the children I kept playing on the floor and I couldn't take my eyes off of that television. I had recently met The Man and all I knew was he was active duty military and I just knew he was going to be heading that way immediately. Thankfully, he was on a shore duty rotation and not up to be sent over. (I was right ignorant of how the military works then.) All I could think of were the old movies I had watched my whole life with my Daddy. The war movies. Where cities were destroyed by enemy fire. Was this going to happen to us? Were we going to become one of those war movies where nowhere is safe? Were our borders going to become our prison bars? Was there anywhere safe in this world anymore??? It was a hard day as I looked at my child and wondered if I needed to go to the school to get my oldest and bring her home with me so if we had to do something, we were together. Looking back now, it might have seemed crazy. Crazy, huh? All I knew was that if they could do this to buildings in New York....there was no telling what could happen to the rest of the country. (That was before learning the fate of the other planes involved.)

I was blown away by the high security that I encountered the next time I visited The Man on the base where he was stationed. I appreciated it even though the long lines for car passes moved slowly. I still appreciate the security the I encounter when I approach any military base/post.

I can only hope and pray that I never have to experience another tragedy like this in my lifetime. I am scared that I probably will.

All I know is that I don't want September 11 to be just another date in history. For me. I want to cry every single year as I remember that day. I want to cry for those who lost their lives. I want to cry for those who lost a family member and had to carry on after that day. I want to cry for the military members who continue to fight the good fight to defend this country from another senseless tragedy because they're making supreme sacrifices day in and day out for the citizens of the United States of America.

As long as I am alive, this will never be just another date in a history book. It was real. It was hard. It was life changing. God Bless America......please.

Judgement

2010-09-07T08:44:00.003-04:00

I am obviously aging at an alarming rate, Internets. Time is starting to fly by me rather quickly and I fear it won't be long before it hits warp speed and I wake up one morning dead. I'd like to think that if a person has a good life, then it will fly by. Think about it, would you? People who are depressed and such moan and groan about how slow life is. Like they can't get through it fast enough to be done with the whole deal. I feel like it's flying by and I'm not catching every single detail like I would like to.

That being said, I'm going to change the subject some what. Let's chat about personality flaws, shall we? I am 100% human, so I am full to the brim with character and physical flaws. I know this and pretty much embrace it because...ha ha...I don't have a choice, now do I?

Are you judgemental? I am. I have tried and tried so hard not to be. All my life I have heard that sweet little passage stating "Judge not, lest ye be judged." I know it's wrong and I will end up repenting for my transgressions, but it's like an addiction at times. You've done it before you realize and you sigh, slump your shoulders, and realize you've gone and done it again.

I'll give you a few examples of what I'm talking about:

I judge ladies who wear white shoes after Labor Day and before Easter (at the earliest). I watch you walk by with this superior Southern Bell attitude and believe you to be a natural born Yankee. If you are Southern and making this major fashion faux paus, then I assume you are rebelling against your Mama and your Grandmama will have the vapors if she sees such a thing from HER flesh and blood.

I judge ladies who wear extremely tight clothing out in public. Dear Girl, wearing tight clothing does not make you sexy. It makes you look like you gained weight and are trying very desperately to make everyone think you truly meant to look like a sausage with a busted casing. We, the public , would applaud you for just giving up and buying decent clothes that fit.

I judge older ladies who wear mini skirts. I don't care if you're single again and in a cougar state of mind. Be a LADY first and foremost, please. Show the younger generations that it's okay to have a hem flirt with your knees instead of your crotch. Have you seen your legs crossed in a mini skirt? I have and I would state matter of factly that 4.9 out of 5 of you have veins and loose skin that I could have gone to my grave not ever seeing and be happy about it.

I judge young men and older men who wear hats in a building. Just don't. It's improper and on the redneck side. I don't care if you're going bald. I really and truly don't. I don't care if your hair is all messed up. My husband has had some wild hair going on, but that hat comes off upon entering a building. Yes, I know this has been ingrained in him because of the military, but come one! Use manners!

I judge parents if their children don't use manners. We all know Miss Hope is 100% Southern and is all about some manners. We are supporters of the "yes ma'am" and "no sir" protocol. I don't expect this from everyone because, obviously, our society is diverse and not all regions require such strict requirements. I do NOT, however, tolerate a lazy "yeah" from a young person. If you are meaning to say "yes"? Then say YES. Be precise and polite in your answer or I will call you on it. Yes, I surely will. Just ask my teenager's friends. Miss Hope is all fun and cool (ish), but if you don't act respectfully? She will immediately correct you. It's the price you pay to visit her daughter. Thing is? All the kids who visit now use manners. How about that?

I judge people who have massive amounts of brake dust on their front tires. I know this sounds crazy, but if your vehicle has an inch of brake dust on the wheels? You can't drive. You drive too fast and ride the brakes. That's not good for anyone on the road. I tend to avoid you on the interstate because I just don't care to mess with a foolish driver. If the brake dust isn't an indicator of your driving? Then you have something wrong with your vehicle and might need to get it fixed. That Man of Mine tends to hit the brakes with more force than I prefer at times. At that point, I will throw myself forward and grab for handles like we're getting ready to flip at least 10 times. He rolls his eyes and ignores me. I have informed him that brake dust accumulates on my wheels? I will have issues.

There you have it. A few examples of what Miss Hope is thinking about at times. I know. I know. It's shameful and wrong of me to be this way, but what can I say? I need to work on being nicer, if only in my mind. And I will. Because life is too short to worry about things or raise my eyebrow as you walk or drive by me.

Okay...I just went and re-read what I've written. I just don't think there's going to be much help for me in these areas. This list of grievances are my addiction, I do believe.

~sigh~

Just dress decently, don't wear white shoes at the wrong time, clean your tires, and speak nicely and I promise, from the bottom of my heart, we'll be the best of friends!

Eleven Year Old Logic

2010-08-12T09:46:00.003-04:00

I believe it was last week when my middle kid came up to me and The Man with her simple request.

M: Hey, Mama and Man? Can you put me in some kind of medically induced coma or sleep for the five years that I'm going to be a teenager?

Me: What?

M: repeats request

Me: Why on earth would you want to do that, Sweetheart?? The teenage years can be some of the best years of your life!

M: Because if it's anything like Sissy makes it out to be? I don't want no part of it.

Me: Look here. You can't set any standards by your sister. She's is a one of kind original.

M: But, she makes it seem so hard and dramatic. I figure if I could just sleep through all of that? Then I wouldn't have to deal with it.

Poor kid. She's serious as she can be. This is where you have to dig deep and try not to fall on the floor laughing and very seriously explain that everyone is different and handle things in unique ways. That, and her sister is plain crazy.

I have a feeling she intends to get lost in her golf game. She has big plans.

And I'm perfectly okay with that.

Unintended

2010-08-10T10:40:00.003-04:00

Hi. It's me again. I think I've been avoiding this page for a while now. Nothing against any of you out there. I'm still having my moment.

I like for my blog to be fun and funny. I like to share humor because, God knows, there's enough crap out in the world like it is that's depressing if you listen long enough. I haven't felt so fun and funny lately.

I don't think I'm depressed. Not really. I think I'm still adjusting to this new chapter in my life I got going on. I haven't quite snapped out of my "Dangit, I had to move AGAIN funk". Intellectually, I know this wasn't a bad thing for our family. We live in a great neighborhood, in a great little town, with decent schools, in a beautiful home. I told The Man that I was just having a hard time adjusting to the weather and just finding my way around in a new place. Now, I am Southern born and raised, to set the record straight. I've never been more than 35-ish miles from the ocean. I didn't go to the beach all the time, but I had comfort in knowing it was less than an hour away should I need to go see some big water. Now? I live in a hilly area that's inland where I almost wreck on a constant basis because of looking at the hills and the neighborhoods on the side of hills. It is so miserably hot here. I know it's just as hot at the coast but it's almost like you could excuse it because you knew that's the coast rolls. I know, it probably doesn't make sense to anyone else but me.

Now, don't go getting worried that I've holed up in the house and lay on the couch watching soap operas in a couch potato haze. 1. I don't watch soap operas. Haven't seen the first one in almost ten years. 2. I got a new chair that is all mine and that's my seat cushion of choice. I've been up and out quite a bit. We went on vacation this summer to Nebraska to see my most favorite Mom and Pop-in-law. We had a wonderful visit that went by too fast with lots of laughs and games of Boggle. My FIL cooked every night and I thoroughly enjoyed the break from cooking. Paige kept me busy all summer because of her doing summer school and driving school. We've had quite a few visitors that I've loved having here and hated to see leave.

I've just got to find my niche is all. I want to wake up and say out loud, "I'm going to finish a project in this house today and make it more our home!" I'm tired of mostly bare walls and no curtains. I want some color and pizazz (am SO tired and over the word "pop" in relation to decorating...someone needs to teach the designers on HGTV new words when they paint a wall a bright color or put a snappy pillow on a couch.). I've been window shopping online and came across a test that said something like "See what your design style is!!" Did you know you can fail one of those? Honest to goodness, I failed the stupid thing. I like so many different things that the final test result was, "unable to determine a design style." ~sigh~ I'm undetermined and design-less. Woe is me. That zapped my decorating confidence straight down the toilet right there.

I know I missed the whole month of July and I still haven't finished that flower bed post. Speaking of the flower bed. It is my nemesis. All that fabric we put down before the mulch and I STILL have to go weed the stupid thing. It has been so hot here that almost all the plants we planted with high hopes and sparkles in our eyes......they died. I told The Man to just not worry about it. We'll maintain the integrity of the overall bed itself and figure something out come Fall or next Spring. (Yeah, I basically said "Screw it.")

My children started back to school yesterday and I think I'm a little bit lonely today. Oh, I know that feeling won't last but a day or two. I enjoy time alone. Wait, there's Prissy, who is my partner in crime. She keeps me company and stays under my feet. She's on point to guard when I go to the bathroom and to do laundry. If I'm working anywhere else in the house, she lays right there within a 5 foot radius and watches my every move. She's always on standby to lick whoever comes in the house within an inch of their lives.

It's just a Hope Thang, I suppose. I never claimed to be normal or perfect. I'm not a fast mover (unless a kid is in danger) and I will eventually find the right pace and path that works best for me. If you are so inclined? Find a little patience and bear with me until I do. Thanks.

Time Just Slips Away

2010-06-29T10:03:00.003-04:00

Well, sir, I just blew the whole month of June off with the blogging deal. It definitely wasn't on purpose, people.

Summers are good. I truly like spending time with my kids. I love sleeping in a later and not having to rush to get people dressed, papers signed, and out to the bus on time. I am not a morning person. At all. I rush around sipping a cup of coffee and my anxiety goes out the roof because Paige is so SLOW moving and she can't miss the bus because the other two take a different bus and I start hollering up the stairs for her to hurry up and then I get louder and louder until we end up hollering at each other as she runs out the door to catch her bus. Most mornings end up with us texting "I love you." to each other so we know all is cool for the rest of the day. See? Summers can be a lot less stress in The Edge household.

Then, we moved.

You'd think if you move your children from one school to another in the same state, the school would be on the same education page. Nope. Not in Georgia. Paige is in summer school this summer because one county rolls differently than the other. She is a credit or two ahead of her class, but behind a half credit in math. Oh, math, how we hate thee. Her guidance counselor was nonchalant about it and said she would just take two maths in her Senior year. Uh....no. Paige is a gifted child but math is her nemesis. She can do it and do it well, but she has a block about it. I wasn't going to take the chance of stressing her out her Senior year with TWO maths. Senior year is supposed to be fun! I told her to go ahead and get it taken care of since she really wants to work next summer and I surely don't want to stop her.

Now, I'm getting up in the mornings so I can take her to the bus stop. There are something like six high schools in this county and they take turns hosting summer school. This summer's host is about 30 minutes (traffic-wise) away. They run buses that pick up kids at certain points. It could be worse, though. I have to have her at the bus stop by 9 a.m. and pick her up at around 1-ish. Her first day, she came home and was all "Woe are we! Our teacher just graduated college...we'll never make it!" Yeah, about that. She has the highest grade ever in math because she GETS this teacher completely. Her teaching style clicks with Paige and she is breezing through math like never before. To the tune of a high A, my friends. She has come home with amazing papers that go immediately on the fridge to be proudly displayed. I kid you not. I'm all about displaying the good stuff. I have begged her to get this teacher's name, number, email, and address so if she has future problems, I can bribe this teaching genius to maybe tutor a little bit. I want to stalk this woman who has given the love of math back to my child.

We now see a light at the end of the tunnel as summer school ends next week. She has full confidence about her grade and almost looks forward to going each day because she's going to be able to do her work without stress. Man, I love that.

Did I mention she went to driving school this summer, too? She sure did. Thirty hours of driving school goodness. For six days straight (starting on a Sunday), she went to driving class from 1-6 p.m. That meant rushing to pick her up from summer school at 12:35 to have her clear across a lunch traffic infested town by 1:00 p.m. Those were some busy stressful days. She hasn't quite finished her class yet as she has to do her six hours of driving with them to receive her certification. We have to get her new glasses first. That appointment is Wednesday.

Does it ever end???

I hate my TomTom, too. That son of gun has let me down more than it has helped. I live in a new place, Sir TomTom. I NEED you to know where we are specifically because I DON'T. I can't tell you how many times I've called my husband at work rantin' and ravin' and carryin' on about that blasted TomTom. If we had a nickel for every time I have threatened to throw that blasted thing in the trash can?

*Deep breath because I get really upset over that little piece of technology.*

If there is one thing that'll send me over the edge? It's being lost. I get so angry because I don't know my way around and I just lose my cool because I really didn't want to have to learn a new town at this stage in my life. I want familiarity, okay? I want to know the streets and landmarks in my life.

Poor Makenna. She has been such a trooper. All she's asked for is to go to the library. No joke. That baby of mine loves to read more than her next breath. She has done nothing but read books online all summer long. She begged and begged to go to the library because, as she puts it, "There's nothing like holding a real book in your hands." After I dropped Paige off at driving school one day, I decided to try and find the library. Stupid TomTom. While on the phone with my husband and trying to figure out where the heck the TomTom was taking me....we found it.

*Cue heavenly angels singing, please*

My girl was in heaven. She would have stayed there all day if I had let her. I could probably drop her off at opening and pick her up at closing and she would be perfectly content. The Boy and I picked out some books for him while she got her limit of 12. They were all read by end of weekend. I kid you not.

She's really stepped up this summer helping me out around the house. With Paige being gone most of the time, she's helping me clean and not complaining a bit. Should I wonder what she's building up to ask for? My bet is it will be a kindle. Being eleven really is a growing year. She has a quirky sense of humor and loves to tell you in full and complete detail about the book she's reading. To the point where your eyes glaze over. I've learned to nod alot and say, "Seriously??" It's a good working situation for us.

My boy. My sweet little boy. This has been the Summer of Meltdowns. I like to be a cool Mom, you know? Sleep in a little later...stay up a little later. It's worked wonderfully for the girls for many years. Then, we have The Boy. Evening meltdowns were becoming a norm. Bad meltdowns. To the point where I was sure the neighbors were going to call the law because of the screams coming from our house. I got to the point where I'd rehearse my speech if the law showed up. I'd offer to let them take my son for an hour with the smug knowledge that they would bring him back home QUICK. It has been that bad. I started fretting over his medications. Were they not working anymore? His appointment with the new psychiatrist isn't until August and that was the first available we snatched up. Hello, rising stress level!

Finally, I told The Man that maybe we needed to just put him back on a schedule. Here we go to bed again at 8 p.m. (ish) with a book read in his bed. It hasn't fully solved all the problems, but it has helped tremendously. Bless his little OCD heart. He just has to have routine and order in his small world. He plays so well by himself during the day that he is a pure pleasure to watch. I keep the t.v. on educational channels and he flits from the DS to board games to his action figures. He really hasn't even bothered with the Wii, which has shocked me. I noticed the other day that when he plays his DS and gets to a screen that has words (like directions on what to do), he is reading it out loud. Score for reading! My fire place has a stone front and it's the perfect mountain for his action figures to climb and play rescue to those stuck up on the mantle.

I wish he could go outside more but it is HOT in Jaw-ja (Georgia) this one summer. It's like when your body hits the front door...it says "Sweat Glands: ACTIVATE". I can't believe how miserably hot it has been. To the point where you go to the pool and the water is hot. Therefore, we hang out inside and try to do yard work in the evenings. Before the magnificent thunderstorms hit.

We are now counting down to our first real vacation since The Boy was 3 months old. Hey, vacations cost money and we didn't have much of it the past few years. When Paige finishes her summer school, we are heading to God's Country. That would be Nebraska. The Man's parents live there and we haven't had a chance to visit them since they moved there. I'm excited over a road trip and seeing a couple of new states. Even Miss Prissy is going with us!

That dog of ours. ~sigh~ I love her. She loves me. She has personality and spunk and loves to go for a ride. I can't get over what a good traveller she is. She rides with me to take Paige to the bus stop and pick her up. If I have to run another errand and leave her at the house? She is just heartbroken and will literally cry and mope around. Even The Man has a soft spot for her. He's off on Fridays and will give me a break taking and picking up and what do I hear as he walks to the door? "Come on, Prissy! Let's go!" Yep, we have all been suckered in by that sweet little face. She snorts and does her best to talk. She's not a barker at all unless she's playing. She'll lick you to death if you walk in our house. If you take a nap? Make room because she's coming, too, and will snore worse than any old man in a nursing home.

I told you aaaallllllll of that just to show that I truly haven't been neglecting my blogging duties. It's hard to sit down and write a cohesive blog post when you have a six year old lurking around waiting for you to get up and go do something so he can play a game on the computer. Drives me crazy to no end when I get up to do laundry or another chore and that boy will jump in the seat right behind me and pull up his game sites to play. It wouldn't be so bad if he wouldn't close my windows to do this! Therefore, I can't move once I start writing because sure as I'm sitting here, the auto-save feature won't work that one time.

I know I still owe you the second part to the YardWork post. I got the pictures downloaded and promise to do that soon. I just had to let you know how busy Summer 2010 has been around The Edge and how I'm looking forward to school starting back so I can get back on MY schedule!

You go on now, and keep it cool. I know I have and have the electric bill to prove it!

Tasty Good

2010-06-09T11:00:00.003-04:00

We interrupt our regularly schedule programming to bring to you a cute pet moment.

We are in a new world here at The Edge. The world of raising a puppy. How educated we have become since Prissy has joined our family. She's cost us money we didn't know we'd have to spend and has brought great entertainment value to our evenings.

A week or so ago, we were all settling in to watch some television. Most probably, it was a season finale we were looking forward to and excited to see. All of a sudden, Paige hollered and jumped up off of the couch.

There was a huge green spot on my light colored carpet. Apparently, Prissy had found Makenna's watercolor paints and chose the green one as her new thing to gnaw on. Oh, what a fun marvelous time she was having with that little square of green goodness. When Paige finally got it away from her (it was half way gone), there were more than one green spot for her to scrub up immediately so as to keep it from settling in and staining the carpet further.

Our focus was on getting the carpet clean...then we saw Prissy.

We were laughing so hard then, it was hard to breathe.

We started asking her if she enjoyed eating the leprechaun as she had a green beard around her mouth. Her tail would wag like crazy and she literally grinned. This was caught on camera.

Therefore, I find it necessary to share with you what your pet would look like if they, too, were able to enjoy a leprechaun snack.

Why, thank you! That leprechaun snack was tasty good! She may have been yawning when Paige took the picture. I choose to believe she's grinning.

The Flower Bed Saga- Part 1

2010-06-06T20:58:00.011-04:00

We did our house hunting in October and November. Which is great if some houses you view don't have electricity. It's easier to take a coat off than to try and get cool. Curb appeal is very important because we gravitate towards things that look nice. When we bought The Edge III, the yards were freshly done with sod, shrubs, and straw. There's not a lot you can do for color in November/December and it all looked fine so we didn't think twice about it.

Wish we had.

When it started warming up, weeds started popping up. I'd constantly walk in the flower beds pulling one here and there trying to stay ahead of the game. Finally, I realized something. Our flower beds sucked. It was the work of cheap labor. Our grass had weeds that were ridiculous and my husband fought them to the bitter end with all kinds of weed killer.

I got sick and was pretty much stuck inside for over a week. The flower beds took full advantage of this and sprouted over night, much to my dismay. When I finally walked outside and looked, I just about deflated right there on the spot because the front of my house had turned into a hot mess. I then decreed that we would start work as soon as possible on what was becoming (in my eyes) a neighborhood eyesore.

Then it rained for two weekends straight.

When we were finally ready for action, we discovered that Spider Town resided in the flower beds and around our foundation. A trip from the exterminator and it was suggested we wait another week for the poison to work since we had an abundance of black widows. I don't know about you, but I was inclined to listen to the fellow.

While we waited on Spider Town to be evacuated, I fretted over how I just knew we had become "that house" in the neighborhood where people would drive by and purse their lips in distaste over the condition of our flower beds. It was a right stressful time, Internets.

We took that time to get a few things done around the house and plan what we were going to do with our Hot Mess Flower Beds.

First chance the weather cleared and worked with us, we were on top of yard work. I deemed it necessary that we would clear out all the nasty straw on Friday and prep for planting on Saturday. I believe some home improvement shows would call this the "demolition phase". Trust me, it was demolition. We were just beyond mad when we finally got the straw up and saw the condition of the shrubs they had put down. The landscapers (and I use the term very loosely) had just dug a small hole, pulled the plant out the pot, and plopped it down. I kid you not. You could just pick the plants and shrubs straight up with no problem. Sorry shoddy cheap work. How these shrubs were able to grow is beyond us.

During the day on Saturday, Makenna wiped her brow and said, "Why don't we just get a landscaper??" I told her that we were going to do the work so we could look at it when it was done and know we worked hard and take pride in our hard work. Shoot, I'm not hiring yard work out until all kids are grown and gone. Until then, there are lessons to be learned!

I now know just how out of shape I really am. I have dug. I have raked. I have hauled mulch. I have drank gallons of gatorade and powerade and water. I have laid on my front lawn like a redneck because I was so flippin' tired.

We aren't quite finished yet. We ordered 6 cubic yards of mulch to be delivered and methinks it might have been a tiny tad bit too much. I have a few ideas left to complete before all the mulch will be gone. We've had some rain that has shown us where we'll have to make the mulch deeper in the flower beds so that's good we have some extra left.

This home ownership deal is wearing me out. I hate yard work. Despise it. But, I've been doing it my whole life. I know my husband appreciates the fact that I'll put on the yard shoes and head right on outside to help even though I hate getting dirty. *Side note: Mama said when I was a young child, if I got my hands dirty, I'd come to her with them upraised exclaiming they were dirty and wanting her to clean them. Smart Little Me.* The only thing I truly can't do is the weed eater. I just don't have the upper body strength for it. I can work a lawn mower (push or riding), a blower, a water hose, and assorted hand tools like nobody's bizness.

So, in keeping with the spirit of being a two part post, here are the before pictures of The Hot Mess Flower Bed.

This is the biggest part in front of the dining room window. The tall shrub was taken out (Lu will be happy as she hates these particular shrubs!) and relocated over to the side of the house near the heating and air units. There was still straw to be raked out after taking this picture. I believe we got around eleven lawn bags full out of the deal. I'm sure the garbage people just loved us that week.

Oh, how this picture makes me cringe. By the time we came in Friday evening, all weeds were gone and we had a plan on where the new plants were going to go. Did I mention we have some hard butt clay kind of dirt? Yeah, that was back breaking work for The Man to try and even it up to a decent level since CLB (Cheap Labor Boys) covered up the holes and such with straw.

I thought the hardest on this corner here. I wanted something pretty but not huge as I didn't want to cover my window. I've driven by many houses where they have a tree or shrub that covers up a window and that makes no sense to me.

Finally got some control over the weeds on this end. Wait til you see what I put here!

The mulch was delivered a week later. This is one dirty kid here, Internets. I discovered that if there is a hill, little boys will climb it. He has thoroughly enjoyed this hill of mulch. He has dug and dug with his little shovel. I told the rest that I have never seen a little guy work so hard and get nothing done with all the digging he has done. We literally have to hose him off when we go in after he finishes playing king of the hill.

So, now you see why I called the front of my house The Hot Mess Flower Beds in all capital letters. I think it fully earned that title. Next post? Working, the flowers, and finished product!