National Anthem

I recently sent in an audition CD for a competition to sing the national anthem.  Before recording the performance I spent some time practicing with a good friend and very talented musician.  He graciously and patiently practiced and recorded the performance offering both encouragements and critiques for a more successful presentation.  One of the things he did say was he recognized my obvious adoration for the song and asked me to express my motivation.

Having been born in Mexico and being immersed in the Hispanic traditions of South Texas, I have lived in America most of my life and therefore have a great sense of pride in my country.  I have American citizenship and enjoy all the rights and freedoms of an American except for the ability to run for President(controversial topic and also a huge sigh of relief for all of you who personally KNOW me).  My sister, American born, who terrorized me at every border crossing with threats of revealing my "wetback" status to the Immigration officers(as they were once known), also has an immense pride in her country.  I can remember driving in the car with her and  when a convoy of hummers passed us she physically pulled the car over, got out, and saluted the officers.  She loves working at the Veterans hospital and hearing the war stories of all the brave men and women who fought for our freedom.    She travels all over the world and so she understands the true meaning of the freedom we experience here in America.

I know, LAND THE PLANE....when I sing our national anthem I have visions of "bombs bursting in air" and a flag waving in the wind, tattered and torn from war but being held nonetheless as seen in the Iwo Jima monument(and first the actual photograph from the Battle of Iwo Jima)  with the inscription, "Uncommon Valor was a Common Virtue."  A haze over the land with men and women fighting in blood stained garments.  My eyes fill with tears every time I hear this song.  I am proud to be an American.  I am so thankful to all of the people who serve in various capacities to make this country a wonderful place to live.  Yes we have some huge issues to sort out, but we can choose who will do the sorting and how they will sort.  We have a voice and we are not killed or punished for voicing our opinions...ostracized, possibly.

Thank you to all of our service men and women and their families who sacrifice every comfort to ensure America remains, well The United States of America.

Planting Season

Today something remarkable happened.  I was driving east on IH-10 and about two miles ahead there were lights flashing.  The lights signaled some sort of construction.  I changed lanes as did all of the people ahead and most of the people behind me.  A few people decided they could get ahead by flying by me and quickly changing lanes causing traffic to slow.  Those cars were three or four cars ahead of me and they slowed down our pace...ANNOYING.

This whole car thing reminds me of the reality series called Survivor.  I watched only the first season.  The winner was a man who was not someone I would ever want to befriend.  Some people say he played the game, but I say he sped ahead of a few cars to "win."  You  might not see any correlation between these two things,  but I do.

I see so many people around me throwing people under the bus for the sole purpose of self promotion.  You might get ahead right now yet you planted a seed that you will reap some day.  I did not always understand the gravity of sowing and reaping but as I sow things along my life adventure, sometimes the things I reap are unpleasant and some things are enjoyable.  Let me put it simply...if you plant pumpkin seeds you get pumpkins sooooo if you act like a total jerk to someone, likely you will encounter a jerk or two along your way.

Next time you think of taking someone's parking spot, spouse or dignity, think again.

The Mirror Doesn't Lie

Yesterday I had my annual visit to the doctor.  As with all doctors who treat women there are often advertisements for fillers, tighteners, weight loss, ”the botox”, and also informational material about mammograms and menopause.  Brett was thoroughly fascinated by the thermascan breast images and Chloe was already starting to feel fatigue, reduced libido (for which she does not know the meaning), frequent urination, and hot flashes. 
After I dealt with Brett's need to touch the thermascan image and Chloe's pre menopausal hallucinations, I remembered a girl I recently saw at a restaurant.  The girl was in her mid to early twenties and beautiful.  She had additional augmentation in the form of eye lashes, breasts and hair extensions.  She obviously worked out often and she was wearing very little clothing.  The problem I found was she made a naturally beautiful girl, not as beautiful.  Everything she added to herself must make her feel like she looks better, but to an outsider she looks, well, fake. 
I thought about all the reasons someone might change themselves so much....daddy issues, self esteem, work, the list is long and I'm not a psychologist.  Then I turned the tables on myself.  What do I do that makes me look, well, fake?  The list was not very long...I wear make up and an occassional removable hair extension.  I like to dress up and sometimes I will wear costumes, when appropriate.  Why don't I feel the need to ” enhance” myself?
Don't get me wrong, a little lipo and a lift would do wonders on my strut, but at what cost to me?  Mostly just a little( a whole lot) of pain and some pain killers and some down time might be the cost, or maybe I might become addicted to the changes.  Changing more and more until I'm no longer myself.
A good friend, recently reminded me of my value.  You see, our value is not found in the mirror.  The mirror is a liar.  We were perfectly hand crafted by a divine Creator and as such we were made perfect in His sight.  Men and women both struggle with the changes time reveals on their faces or bodies, but don't be so wrapped up in physical perfection that you forget to accept yourself.  Your value is found in your heart, not in the mirror.
Invest in fillers or augmentations or diets or extensions if you must, but don't lose sight of your real worth as it does not reveal itself in a full length mirror. 

The Forgotten Ones

School is starting again and we are back on a schedule, tired, and full of activities.  Tonight I was in the showering thinking about never getting out, EVER.  Getting up earlier, cooking breakfast, getting dressed, feeding EVERYONE, making sure backpacks and lunches are packed(supervise), getting to school on time, working, and then getting home or attending practices, cooking dinner, eating dinner, cleaning up after dinner, games, baths, homework, maybe laundry, SHOWER!!  Such is the life of a mother/teacher.

My husband has a very similar schedule which requires him NOT to have long vacations during the holidays and NOT three months during the summer.  My schedule changes, but his schedule is always the same.  He likes to remind me, "Someone has to work!" and work he does.  He leaves before I leave and arrives well after I arrive, just in time for dinner.   He usually works in the yard and burns or waters something, helps with the kitchen or the laundry, exercises and helps with bedtime for the kids.

I realized, in the shower I never wanted to leave, my husband is often forgotten in this whole Back To School rush.  I'm so busy worrying about back to school this that and the other I hardly give him a second thought.  If I make a goulash dinner, he doesn't complain.  If I don't make the bed, he doesn't complain.  BUT, my best and first job is being a wife.  I have to continue to remember him even when everything else starts rolling again, he has always been working and never neglected to make it home to dinner or help with the laundry because it is "Back to School."

Don't forget the husbands in all the craziness...they are the reason you get to be a wife and mother.

FYI:  This blog post did receive the stamp of approval from my husband!!

Bad Timing

This morning at work, yes I work, a friend of mine pointed something out that I had completely missed.  Yesterday I was having a mini-tantrum about changes in my world(I do not like change) and at the same moment I was telling my friend about my "terrible" situation, Brett asked why he didn't have a chocolate like his sister.  I, very annoyed, said something about not talking about this right now and closed the car door on his talking face.  My friend laughed and said, "...kids never really know it isn't a good time to ask you something when they want something."  I smiled and thought about giving her my children as she is neither married nor a mother.  She learned something at that moment that was LOST on me until today.

Today she said, "...isn't it funny how we do the same thing to God."  Yes, now it all makes sense.  She saw the bigger picture when I just wanted everything in my life to be the way I wanted it to be and my son just wanted a chocolate.  God has a plan for each one of our lives, but sometimes we gets so caught up in our version of life we don't hear or honor his timing.

Take, for example, Jonah.
Jonah 1:1-3 
The word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai: "Go to the great city of Nineveh and preach against it, because its wickedness has come up before me." But Jonah ran away from the Lord and headed for Tarshish. He went down to Joppa, where he found a ship bound for that port. After paying the fare, he went aboard and sailed for Tarshish to flee from the Lord. 

Do you recall what followed this running away by Jonah?  Yes, he was swallowed by a whale.

http://christianity.about.com/od/biblestorysummaries/a/Jonah-And-The-Whale.htm

Here is a quick link to the story of Jonah.  I hope you find some comfort and some gentle nudging, as well.  

Leaving The Pond

I recently read in, Reader's Digest, a startling fact.  I have 940 Saturdays from birth to college with my child.  9-4-0 THAT IS ALL!!??!!   I'm considering capitalizing on that information, but for now I am thinking about how I might spend those 940 Saturdays.  If Brett has his choice it will be 940 trips fishing, while Chloe prefers 940 picnics.  I guess there will be many fishing picnics in my future.

Due to the crazy economy the Huffington Post reports that "39% of 18-34 year olds have or are moving back in with their parents."  Yes, Parents, that means you might be able to gain a couple of those Saturdays you lost in the office or doing something selfish like a manicure/pedicure!!  Ok, so you are allowed some SS(Selfish Saturdays).  I'm not sure I'm geared up for a revisit once I've cried the tears of sending my child away and turned their room into a "naked room"(if you've seen Failure To Launch this is funny, otherwise you're thinking I'm a total lunatic).

Yesterday I was dragged in to Brett's room to see what the supposed frog poop became.  Baby frogs.  He has this tank(1 of 3) that he places wayward creatures as he examines them and touches them.  He likes to become familiar with all of the animals parts before he returns it to the wild.  The creature always survives, but this time the frog left us babies.  A whole tank full of babies.  She laid her eggs and was relocated to the outdoor pond.  No Saturdays elapsed for her to spend time with her baby frogs.  They swim alone and then they grow appendages and then they become frogs.  Some get eaten, others do not even survive the egg stage, some are handled by little boys who love them to death.

As a momma frog you might have your child living in your habitat again, but you will never know it is your baby frog.  You won't have 940 Saturdays of quality time.  I'm not going to urge you to use your Saturdays wisely, I'm going to urge you to use those Saturdays to teach your child some skills.  Teach them how to save money, how to be frugal, how to do manual labor, how to change a tire, how to do laundry, how to balance a checkbook, how to cook, how to serve other people, how to clean, how to...

Don't be like the momma frog swimming in the same water and not offering any help or advice...teach those children to grow up and be useful and in case they ever move back in they know how to cook, clean, and manage their finances.

Kids: Accessory or Baggage

This afternoon as I was rocked on the porch by my son Brett, I spoke to a close friend.  I did some talking, some listening and some reprimanding of the rocking.   My friend talked about the process of conception and stress and difficulty of conception.  All of us have had our journey to conception.  Some of my friends conceived way earlier than their maturity and gave the child up for adoption.  Some of my friends believed they had no way out and turned to abortion.  Other people got pregnant the first time or never.  Each of us has a unique story every time.  Her journey is no different.

As I listened she said a few things that I'm so glad I wasn't so busy hearing myself talk that I missed.  She said through this experience she is realizing she doesn't want a kid, she wants to be a mother.  Wow, I'm not sure I've ever thought of it that way.  When I started to really think about her words I realized I actually feel the same way.  I never imagined I would have kids, but my mothering instinct is very strong.  Having children happened as a result of loss, but my instinct to mother something drives me.  Yes, the "animal hoarding" may be a result of my extreme mothering instincts.

The other thing she talked about is children having rules and options and being treated like an accessory.  I had rules as a child, but way too many options.  The other day my mom told me she thinks she might have given me too many options as a child, I agreed.  She also told me I do not give my children enough options.  I agreed.  I have raised two fairly independent children who are children.  I am a parent, not a friend.  The options are:  eat your breakfast or eat no breakfast.  Some days they get, "What would you like for breakfast?"  Other times they are expected to do what I say.  They are free to ask questions and I am happy to answer the why? what? where? who? I try very hard not to say "No!" all the time because no is no fun.  No one ever has fun when "NO!" is around, but it means I have to actually play or be involved with my children.  Parents who don't want to play with their kids use "No!" a bunch.  I have to admit, when my kids were younger I liked the word ,"No!"  Seriously, how many times can we go looking for lizards and frogs in the extreme heat??  or Can I have a Lemonade Stand in the 110 degree heat? NO!

Now let us talk about the child accessory.  If you are having kids because you like to play dress up, you want a friend, or because you want to show the world you can keep something alive other than a plant, I suggest you buy another plant.  I do NOT suggest you have a child.  Children are a huge responsibility and they are a financial investment.  Not every child will grow up to be the President of the United States of America, but they should be an active and positive influence on society.  Children are not a trendy new purse and they are not cool because all of your friends are having them....THEY ARE PRECIOUS LIVES WHO NEED DIRECTION, DISCIPLINE AND DEVOTION.

Do you have to be the perfect parent?  No.  Do you have to parent like I parent?  Not advised.  Parents are placed in charge of these children to be in charge and to be the PARENT.  Your child will have a thousand friends and only two parents(or more depending on your marriage situation----an entirely different blog entry).  NOW, if you just read my blog and realized you really don't want to be a parent and you already have kids, I suggest therapy for you and your child....Actually, I suggest you hit your knees and start praying for some guidance.  If you are reading my blog and you do not have kids but you feel your clock ticking, break the clock.  A CLOCK is not a good reason to have children.  Truthfully, not everyone should or is ready to be a parent.  Some people spend their whole lives trying to figure out who they are and I applaud them for not dragging a child in to that mess.

Parents, be parents.  

Ephesians 6:4 Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.

Read more: http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/bible-verses-about-children-25-inspirational-scripture-quotes/#ixzz24cCTzB6m


Your child is neither the hottest accessory nor are they heavy baggage.  

Psalm 127:3-5  Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Read more: http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/bible-verses-about-children-25-inspirational-scripture-quotes/#ixzz24cCAuRlp

Ok, I'm off my soap box for the evening.

Tomorrow is Too Late

This morning I drove in to San Antonio to pick up my cousin so she could spend the day hanging out on the farm.  As we drove we made plans to shop the Boerne shops and swim in the pond.  In  the distance I catch a glimpse of lights.  An ambulance, fire truck and multiple police patrol cars are parked to keep traffic from passing.  My eyes scan to the scene.

It looks like it was a motorcycle, shreds of chrome are littered all over the street and the grass.  From beneath a blue tarp oozes bright red in a long stream while darker red drenches the pavement.  I continue to my exit where I see the car involved in the accident.  The windshield and the passenger's side window are completely crushed.  No one is in the car.  I immediately begin to pray for all the people involved in the accident and for the family of the man who's blood stains are currently cooked into the frontage road at the Fair Oaks Parkway exit.  I wish I had not seen any of the scene today, or ever.

I imagine he woke up this morning and thought, "Today is a great day to ride my motorcycle."  Did he see his kids, his wife, or his parents?  Did he know Jesus?  Did his life flash before his eyes as metal collided with metal?  Did he die instantly or did he suffer as he struggled to breathe under the weight of the mangled bike?

This morning on Facebook a friend of mine posted a photo of her good friend with her husband and 18 month old daughter.  This morning that daughter did not wake up.  No foul play suspected, but no answers for the very shocking death of a healthy 18 month old child.  Two lives, completely unrelated and both saying goodbye to this world for eternity.

Since I can remember, my husband has never left the house or my side without saying , "I Love You" and giving me a kiss and the same with the kids.  It is times like this that I truly realize the impact a small gesture like a simple kiss or I Love You can make if it is the last time.  Would you live your life differently if this was the last time you were going to see the people you love?

I think I would make some big changes.  I think I would allow PMS to play a much smaller role in my life.  I would allow my children to play in the rain and not care about wet clothes or dirty feet.  I would let them stay up late to see their favorite aunt and uncle who are visiting from out of town.  There are a thousand things I would change, but for now I will make sure I hug the people I love and let them know they are special to me.  I have a former student who hugs like it is the last time she will ever see you....that is the sort of hug that says, "I Love You and if I never see you again our hearts touched with this one last hug!"

Today as I saw the blood flowing from beneath the tarp, Sting's Fragile started playing through my mind.  Be different with and deliberate toward the people you love...today, right now.  Tomorrow may be too late.

"Fragile"

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are

My Paradise

I'm sitting on the edge of the pond watching the kids snorkel.   I brush off an occasional ant who thinks my leg is a new path to food.  A crepe myrtle tree covered in the old blooms from the height of summer shades me.  A school of fish swims by avoiding the snorkeling children while the tadpoles scatter at the repositioning of snorkle or mask.  Twenty feet away the water cascades down the waterfall sending a cool breeze my general direction.
In the distance I hear the whinny of the pony and a cockadoodledoo or five.  All five of the roosters want to make sure they have a chance to be heard. OUCH!  I just got bit by an ant...on the butt!
In February when we decided to move we wanted a house with a pool.  We looked at 1000(exaggeration) houses online.  This quaint house out in the country kept popping up.  It did not have a pool.  After searching for the right house for the right price and the right distance from work and school, we decided on the quaint country house with no pool.
March 23, 2012,  we moved.  By April we had a pony, a goat and chickens.  In July our well was re-drilled and the pond became alive again.  The only thing left to do was transfer the Koi out of the pony's water and back in to the pond.  After a few hours of wrangling and cleaning, the fish and tadpoles and frogs were relocated back to their pond home.
The relocation was something out of Free Willy with everyone standing around and tears in our eyes to watch the fish swim free.  In March I never imagined I would get a swimming pool, but today I'm sitting on the edge of a beautiful habitat teeming with life.  God answered my prayer in a way I never dreamed....I have a gigantic swimming pool filled with so much adventure.  No toys needed, just a snorkle and a mask.
As I begin to press the ”publish” button I catch a glimpse of the kids catching pollywogs.  They rest their hands under water and the tadpoles swim on to their hand.  OUCH!  Another ant bite!  This is PARADISE!

Everyone of us has a paradise in front of our very eyes...find it and embrace it.

What Would You Do?

"Dreams are not about what you can buy, but what you do to change the world...."

How many of us think about winning the Powerball?  Recently I bought a Powerball ticket when it was up at  $300+million.  Somehow we have become so jaded and think the $20million jackpots are lame.  $20 million is a whole bunch of money and could make a huge impact on our society.  Often when I consider buying a ticket I think of all the things I would like to buy.

When I read the quote on someone's Facebook account, I wanted to cry.  I don't really lack or need anything.  There are so many homeless and hungry people in my own city and how am I changing my world?  I don't need $200+million to change my city.  All I need to do is donate time, money, clothes, or food to any of the organizations in my city working to help people in need.

I had to sit down and ask myself, "Am I doing enough to be the hands and feet of Jesus?"  Luckily, tomorrow is another day and I still have an opportunity to be who God created me to be.  To serve other people and to change my world has always been a desire of my heart.  I pray that I will no longer think about what I might buy, rather I will consider how I might change the world.  Changing the world does not require winning the lottery....

I Saw the Tooth Fairy

I'm sitting at the computer trying to write about the root canal today, but I agreed to fill and take the pain killer prescription.  So, as I sit at the computer eating the entire box of Jello Butterscotch pudding I'm certain I just saw the Tooth Fairy float by.  He did not look to be carrying my fancy car, but he might have been carrying an egg.  Yes, today I found an egg in the nest box in the chicken coop!  Finally!!!!

Today is full of firsts....my first narcotic pain killer, my first egg from this bunch of chickens, my first(second) root canal, my first actual sighting(hallucination) of the Tooth Fairy.  For all of you who doubted the grandeur of the root canal, I bet your day was not as wonderful as mine.

I just stopped for a moment to run(holding on to the wall all the way) to my son's room to calm his night terror.  He is completely asleep and asks, "Why did the butterfly kill the house?"  Did he have some of my narcotics?  I make my way back to the computer, barely.  Whew!!

I am now reflecting on my comments from last night about not wanting to take pain killers because I will like them too much.  The truth is, I was right!!  These things are awesome!  As I scoop the last bite of butterscotch pudding in my mouth I feel a wave of nausea come over me and I catch a glimpse of the Tooth Fairy, again.  I think it is time for bed.  Best. Root. Canal. EVER!

 

The Tooth Fairy

Have you ever had tooth pain? The kind of pain that keeps you up at night?  Last week I went to see my sweet dentist friend.  There was a hole in the crown she put on my tooth about six months ago and so they had to remove, which means grind off, the existing crown.  I'm blaming a poor genetic pool for my bad teeth.  Seriously, might I offer up my muscular legs(that grow bigger over time) or my pin straight hair as an alternative to having less fragile teeth.  It is possible I prayed to God last night to take the pain away and in return I would never use sarcasm again!!  Thank God for unanswered prayers.

What you need to know is natural childbirth hurts far less than this tooth pain.  Motrin and Tylenol are never far from my lips.  My kind dentist offers me some Vicodin;  I've never had Vicodin and I'm afraid I might like it too much.  Sadly, I decline.  Each night since "the grinding" I consider driving to her house for a prescription.  I'm sure I would be a welcome guest in my tank top, underwear and rain boots like I wear on the farm, right?  Yeah, probably NOT.  Today I finally call her office and ask the kind receptionist to give me permission to pull the tooth and the temporary crown out with rusty pliers.  I receive a call back from the receptionist with doctor's orders to return tomorrow for a root canal.  I don't think I've ever been so excited in my life!!  Yipeeeee a root canal!!  I know this sounds like sarcasm but I assure you, the pain in my mouth will likely subside when there is nothing left to cause pain.

As I toss the Motrin in my mouth, I smile and think about the numb left side of my face with drool lip. The joy of the needle inserting delicious numbing agents and the end of the pain, at least for a few hours.  Am I weird for loving the dentist so much?  I wonder if the Tooth Fairy brings you something for a root canal?  I've been eyeing this beautiful silver Porsche 911 turbo....maybe?

Those of you with children losing teeth, please put in a good word for me with the Tooth Fairy!

Friends Forever

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art...It has no survival value;  rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."   -C.S. Lewis

Yesterday as I drove in to San Antonio to drop my dog at the groomer (my husband used to groom him, but there were too many mishaps) I began to think about friends.  One friend came to mind as I remember our homemade broccoli pizza lunches.  Sometimes we ate pinwheel pasta with breadcrumbs, but we ALWAYS shared dreams, passions and life.  She was not only my friend, she was my role model.  She was a full-time college student with a heavy course load and an aerobics instructor.  She was never too busy for our friendship and everything she did was done with excellence.  I recall the excitement in my heart when she asked me to sing at her wedding.  Amazingly I didn't completely ruin the wedding with tears, just a little crack here and there.

Years later I returned to Connecticut specifically to see her.  Her home was impeccably decorated with the most beautiful farm mural on her daughter's playroom walls.  She painted the mural.  Every curtain was perfectly placed and pillow arranged to perfection, yet never did I feel uncomfortable to sit on the couch and disrupt the pillow arrangement.  Her home was a reflection of the inside of her heart;  clean, pure, and perfectly placed.  I returned again years later to a newer house and three children.  Again her home was a reflection of her heart and her precious children a reflection of her love, kindness and patience.  Today we still communicate regularly and she has since moved to Pennsylvania with her four children and husband.  Her friendship has meant so much to me.  She has always been the better friend, patiently showing me how to be better year after year.  Her excellence in all she does serves as a reminder of a trait I must always strive to attain.  Recently she told me, "...YOU are an incredible and memorable person. WAY better than perfect!"  I sat down and cried.   My survival has been more valuable with Suzanne as a FRIEND.

There are friends and there are FRIENDS.  FRIENDS are unchanged by time and space.  FRIENDS know you are hurting when no one else has a clue.  FRIENDS celebrate your accomplishments and encourage you through your disappointments.  FRIENDS never tear you down.  When you see a note or phone call from a FRIEND you smile all the way to your toes!  FRIENDS are honest even when you don't want them to be honest.  I am lucky to have more than a handful of FRIENDS; people who teach me goodness, perseverance, patience, love, and tact.

My only hope in friendship is to give to my FRIENDS as much as they have given to me, or more.  If I equate Suzanne to a Bible verse is would be James 1:19, "My dear brothers and sisters, be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to get angry."  Thank you for teaching me how to be a friend and for being mine.  Geography separates us while friendship unites us.

Burn Baby Burn!!

Texas is not alone in the drought.  Farmers all around the country are filing farmer insurance claims to cover the loss of their crops.  Burn bans are in effect and cigarette butts are burning down forests and communities.  Fire does not discriminate nor does it destroy kindly.

Close your eyes and imagine being on the top of a summit.  The air is thin and your body is tired, so tired.  A storm blows in continuing to beat your already exhausted body and your supplies are lost.  The hopes of a helicopter are grim with the storm pounding the summit.  Your eyes close as you see images of your family and memories of all the good and bad times in your life.  You can't feel your fingers or your toes and you aren't even sure if you have a nose anymore.  You start to drift off to sleep.  Cold and  sleep wash over you.  The end.

Fire is not so kind.  It is excrutiating torture to be burned.  Fire never feels good.  I cook daily and am a "master chef" which means screams are often heard coming from the kitchen.  I tell myself that burns are a sign of a good cook.  The other day I place the plates in the oven to broil the food and give it that delicious broil-ness finish.  I pull them out of the oven with a mitt.  Moments later I grab the plates to place on the table...without a mitt or towel or ANYTHING!  Duh!  I scream my head off.  Chloe bounces in the room and says, "Yup, Mom is cooking."  Brett is a little more kind, "Mom, can I help you?  Are you ok?"  I'm fine.  The days I burn my fingers are good days to commit a crime as I'm fairly certain I burn off my fingerprint for 24 hours.

The other side of fire is actually quite beautiful.   Prescribed Wildfires  are a large part of creating ecological balance in the wild.  When fire takes everything down to the dirt, new fresh life springs up again.  Native plants find their way back to their homes and wildlife returns to breathe life in to the once scorched land.  I like to think of fire as a fresh beginning.  A new opportunity to take the things in my life that keep me from being all God created me to be.  Perhaps I bear fruit, but if the fruit I bear is sour and shriveled I need to burn that out of my life.

Yesterday I wrote about the hidden cacti in our lives and today I offer a way to get rid of said cacti.    I offer my simple advice....Burn Baby Burn!!
[ESV]

Matthew

3:10 Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 11 I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into the barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 

Come Here, Cactus!

Yesterday afternoon we jumped in the car to drive Chloe to the Austin airport for her biannual trip to see her favorite aunt and uncle in Seattle. Seattle is a beautiful city filled with health conscious people and art, lots of art.  Chloe doesn't care about the art or the healthy eats, she is truly invested in the people she visits.  She returns home wishing to be an only child or to permanently relocate to their house. 
Chloe's plane departs without much incident (late) and we head to dinner with a very special woman.  Almost two years ago she was widowed in her fifties when her precious husband lost his battle to brain cancer.  Sitting at dinner with her you cannot imagine all the things that are still so fresh in her loss.  Her life is filled with much activity and some health adjustments, but without her beloved husband it feels so lonely.
Dinner goes by quickly and we close the restaurant.  While we are visiting at an outside table, the weather could not be more perfect.  A warm breeze gently moves our hair without disturbing our conversation.  I think the topic of the beautiful evening returns three different times during our visit.  Texas can be sweltering in the day yet the nights offer warmth with a side of light breeze. 
Brett is off in the nearby woods finding rocks and sticks.  His hands are filthy from the collecting and multiple attempts at fire starting.  He makes friends with other children who leave when their families finish dinner.  He is now playing alone in the woods when he comes running to show me the cactus splinters resembling tiny porcupine quills sticking out of his fingers.  Today he does not have his Swiss Army knife...of all the days.  Using my husband's phone's flashlight and my teeth, I begin to remove the minuscule thorns from his small dirty hands.  I ask why he touched a cactus later in the car and he says he was feeling around in the dark woods for supplies and he accidentally found a cactus.  ” I'm not stupid Mom.  I didn't say 'oh cactus come here so I can  touch  you.'”  I tried not to laugh, but I laughed so hard it hurt my belly.
I started to think about what happened to Brett.  Sometimes we are in the dark looking for something and we stumble upon a cactus.  If you walk in the LIGHT you will never stumble upon a cactus.  Cacti comes in many forms.  Can you identify the cactus in your life?
John 8:12
”...I am the light of the world.  Anyone who follows Me will never walk in the darkness but will have the light of life.”

Meant To Be

The smell of a fresh pack of college ruled paper or a pack of every color of Sharpie!  The folders and notebooks, binders and lunch boxes, and a FRESH BOX OF CRAYONS!  I can barely contain myself when Back To School time rolls around.  Who cares what my kids need, I love me some school supplies!

I'm not sure why I ever imagined I would be anything but a teacher when my BTS(Back To School) urges are so strong.  Sometimes I just wander through the aisles and breathe the school supply smells.  The excitement of new students and new binders is something unexplainable.  I do not like regular pencils as they remind me of my math tribulations, but mechanical pencils are dreamy.

Have you seen the cool dry erase marker color options?  I KNOW!  Love!  The stacks of notebooks in every color make me want to color coordinate SOMETHING. 

If you've made it this far, amazing!  School is awesome, teaching is a blessing, supportive (not helicopter)parents are a valuable asset, and students are what make it all worthwhile!  Oh how I love my job!!

Happy 2012-2013 School Year

The Real Meaning of July 28, 2012

Today I went to the movies.  I have been waiting for The Odd Life of Timothy Green to finally hit the theaters for a few reasons.  Obviously Jennifer Garner is a gem and the story beckoned to me.  I secretly enjoy crying during movies.  Well, not much of a secret anymore.  The third reason and most personal has everything to do with July 28th.

So many families struggle to have children.  Sometimes cancer keeps them from conceiving or carrying, sometimes their reproductive system is not able to do its job.  Stress can play a huge role in the inability to conceive, yet telling someone who is desperate for a child to, ” not stress out!” is not very well received.

I have two healthy children often volunteering to lend them to my friends who are not parents.  Some have said that their child would be tolerable whereas mine are not....ok.  What they really mean is they want their own child.  After many tries they may even decide to adopt.  Other families adopt first or exclusively. I even have friends who  adopt and then become pregnant against all  odds.  Life is beautiful.

Children are purely a gift.  The most difficult, beautiful, crazy, fun gift you'll ever receive.  Whether the child comes from your loins, someone elses, or the garden, cherish every moment. 

The most heart wrenching reason I am so touched by The Odd Life of Timothy Green is because July 28, 2012 was my due date.  Our third child didn't make it to his birthday.  As parents we decided to close the door on child bearing forevermore after we lost our baby in December 2011.  Timothy Green is a wishful look at the perfect child.

A Name

My name is Mimi.  Well, my name is actually Merissa, but most people call me Mimi.  Every time I introduce myself I have a mini identity crisis as I search my brain to figure out the right name.  Should I be Mimi for this person of Merissa.  Do they know some one who knows me as Merissa or Mimi?  So many things go in to an initial introduction often causing me to look confused when making a new acquaintance.  The truth is I feel like a Mimi trapped in a Merissa body....or is it the other way around?

Nicknames are a huge part of my family.  My mother comes from a rather large family and none of my aunts and uncles go by their God given name, at least not to me.  There's an Uncle Popo, Uncle Orp, Uncle Rudy, Uncle Tud, Aunt Deedee, Aunt Bucca, Aunt (Teensie)Weencie, Aunt Lilieowy and cousins with names like Jojo, Binkie, Birdy, Day, Alowicious, Manny, Bubby, Melsy and the list goes on.  We are a strange bunch who enjoy giving special names to special people.  I cannot remember a time when my mother did not just think up a nickname for even my friends.  Friends like Stepher, Bumberloo, Jenna Belle, Heather Feather, Baby Princess, Lynnie and Skylie.  She still nicknames my friends and I'm in my mid-thirties!!!

I'm not sure the monster she created in me by being a nicknamer.  When I meet people I often ask to change their name to something that suits them better.  I know, that is crazy!!  I have a friend named Nancy but she looks like a Michelle.  Her middle name is Jane and I think that suits her better than Nancy, so she is Jane to me.  I am driven to remember names and people and often times a "wrong" name jars my memory and I cannot associate anything with their name and their personality to truly initiate memory.  I really enjoy remembering names and making people feel important by using their name.  I guess sometimes I lose my way and have to modify your name, but I still think you are important.  I just find you more important as a Maggie instead of a Carmen!!

For now, I'm Mimi, like your grandmother or your poodle.

My Way

I'm at the beach in Port Aransas, soaking up rays with my mom and kids.  I never tire of watching the waves roll in and the pelicans dive for fish.  Chloe never tires of digging the deepest hole she can possibly dig and Brett never tires of collecting marine life from every scrap of seaweed rolling in.
My children and I are predictable.  I like it that way.  When we go to the beach we like to do what we like to do.  Sometimes we go with friends and they have their own idea of  a beach trip.  Everyone has their own set of rules and guidelines that equal fun which reminds me of the holidays. 
We are quickly approaching the holiday season and each of us hopes for a predictable holiday season.  I have a fairly young family, twelve years of marriage, which means our traditions are still taking shape.  In the early years we spent the holidays with my aunt and her family.  We were a bunch of young couples crashing on couches and staying up late watching football and telling old college stories.  When we started having babies we became more civilized deciding to come up with new traditions to avoid travel.
The question of his family holiday or her family holiday is something nobody tells you about prior to your  nuptials.  Add children to the mix and you have his family holiday on the fold-out couch with a scratchy wool blanket and the baby sleeping inches from your face in the pack and play.  It could be worse....you could be at her family holiday in the bed Grandma died in a month earlier with the baby between the two of you because taking the pack and play on a flight requires checking ANOTHER bag.  You can't afford to check anymore luggage because she brought outfits that fit and others that ”fit”, the breast pump, five outfits an hour for the baby, hair accessories for all of the baby outfits and ooops, I think we forgot your suitcase at home, honey.  I think you get the idea.
After enough back and forth and his parent's house and her parent's house you settle on YOUR house.  Last year we decided to go have brunch at a hotel for Christmas.  After my near nervous breakdown at Thanksgiving, due to my drive for perfection, my husband decided to have a non-mommy cook Christmas.  I love, love, love to entertain.  Having people in my house means I worry about the sheets and the firmness of the pillows, the menu for each day we have visitors, the television availability, the cleanliness of the house, the state of the yard, the children's behavior, EVERYTHING!  I start cooking on Monday and I have excellent help in the form of my sister in law. 
Traditions and predictability make life enjoyable, I think.  Our children expect  to take a picture with each scary stuffed being at every holiday and we expect to cook, clean, and decorate in preparation for the holidays.  Maybe this year I will jet off to an island somewhere and have fruity umbrella drinks brought to my beach side massage following the Thanksgiving feast provided by Chef Jacque Francois.  Yeah,probably not.  I like my traditions and I enjoy having predictability.  Won't you join me at the Thanksgiving table this year? 

Your Child Is a Brat!!

Have you ever heard the term oppositional defiant?  Yes, well it is a behavioral term defined as hostile, defiant, disobedient behavior towards authority figures.  I'm sure none of you have ever experienced such a problem and none of your children behave in oppositionally (word I made up as it is not recognized in my computer) defiant ways.  I have a child who exhibits oppositional defiance and I too was a child very much like him.  If my mother said, "Do not touch!"  I touched.  If she said, "Don't cross the street when I am not with you."  I crossed the street many times without her.  The list is long of all the things I did that I was instructed NOT to do.

My mother and I are having a conversation about this very topic today and she says I can easily justify any behavior.  Yes, yes I can, but listen to this really great thing I figured out.  I'm sure it is already published and common knowledge to all of the medical professionals and it does seem obvious to me, but here it is anyway.  When a parent or authority figure says, "No."  it does not allow the child to experience why.  Some children are content with the direction while others ignore the instruction and learn from experience.  Brett shocked himself with a screwdriver and a plug.  He was told NOT to use those things together and did not listen; instead he experienced a shock and will never make that mistake again.   Throughout my life I made these same sorts of inquiries with similar results.

I remember the time my parents told me not to practice skiing in the parking lot of the condo at the ski resort.  I skied down the hill and was hit by a reversing car and remained stuck under the car until the woman heard my screams and the skis under the carriage of the car.  I was not crying I was merely screaming to let he know I was under the car.  I was sure the woman was going to have a heart attack when she saw me emerge from the bottom of the car, but I was fine.  Lesson learned.  I never skied in the parking lot again, EVER.

There were lots of things I didn't need to try to know they weren't a good idea.  Drugs, for example, were not a problem for me.  My highly addictive personality would've guaranteed me to be a drug addict.  I'm not sure I avoided drugs because I was brilliant.  I truly believe God had a plan for my life and was directing every step along the way.  The oppositional defiant child was known as a stuck up goody goody in high school and college.  I can only explain this turn of events as a final understanding of the rules and guidelines and how to live within them comfortably.  I am a CONTROL FREAK and I enjoy controlling every situation, yet how can you control something you have not experienced?  EXACTLY!!

Today I am happy to announce I was not a brat.  I was smart enough to gain my own scientific evidence of the world around me even though I weathered a few storms.  Truthfully, I think I have great stories because of my oppositional defiance.  Is there an oppositional defiance flag pin I can wear on my lapel?  Why didn't I choose Oppositional Defiant Disorder as my pageant platform?   I continue to practice OD in a small way.  Every time a server tells me, "Please be careful not to touch the plate.  It is very hot."  I always touch the plate.  ALWAYS!!  I'm so glad I was able to teach you something very important today.  The lesson being:  You can justify anything...

Don't miss what I'm saying here.  No one is perfect, but we must be cautious to avoid "explaining away" things we should be changing.  "I drop acid because it makes me creative."  Nice try.  "I let my child do whatever he wants because that is just the way he is and discipline doesn't work on him."  HA!        

My Husband Has An Addiction...It Is An Epidemic of Sorts

I'm barely awake yet I can hear the distinct sound of a tractor turning over.  I'm pretty sure we don't have a tractor and so I look over at my husband, who is sitting with the laptop in his, well, lap.  Have you ever seen a child's eyes on Christmas morning right before they run to the tree and tear open the gifts?  The sparkle and wonder filled eyes?  Yeah, those are the ones on the face of my husband.  I ask him what he is doing and he tells me about this tractor he found on bidnow.com*.  A front-end loader for $300? Really, huh, I didn't know we needed one of those.

Sometimes I walk in to our bedroom to find him staring at a screen.  I jump on the bed to see what could possibly be holding his attention....bidnow.com*.  I try putting on "special pajamas" to distract him from the auction website, to no avail.  "Babe, they have a dump truck for $600!  What do you think?"  Let me see, I think we need it for all sorts of things like for example....hmmmm, NOPE, can't come up with any.  "Babe I got these great cast iron skillets for cheap!" ( Please see picture below to fully comprehend the work being done to return them to their original state.)  I really do love cast iron skillets and cook on them often.  Food has a delicious quality when you saute on cast iron and then you can stick it straight in the over for delicious perfection.  Unfortunately, the amount of rust featured on the skillets makes them museum quality and beyond repair!!  Ok, so I might be repairing them after scrubbing for half a day my husband found a better solution of vinegar and water soak.  They might be usable, but if I suddenly die, please investigate the cast iron skillets.

I have multiple items in my house from his favorite auction site.  I do not need anything, but for some scary reason he truly feels drawn to needing things from this site.  In the early years I thought he was just an anomaly and then I met my friend's husband who we will call, John.  John, too, is addicted to this website and also makes the preview visits to make sure the items he is bidding on are truly as good as they look in pictures.  Ok, so only two men in this world are addicts.  There must be a twelve step program around here somewhere.  I should call Craig, from Craigslist.  He should be required to create a rehab program for users of his site.  My husband and John also love the Craigslist bargains.  So between bidnow.com* and Craigslist I don't get much attention.  I get gifts, though.

While thinking about finding a rehab facility to treat my husband and his friend I had my neighbor and his wife over for dinner.  Guess what?  Yes, her husband also follows those two sites.  There is an epidemic here!  What are we wives supposed to do about this terrible addiction??????  Did I do something wrong?   Are my dinners not creative?  Am I not attractive and he must follow the auction websites?

After hours(seconds) of racking my brain I come up with a solution.  Go with the flow.  Ladies, this is shopping.  Yes, I do need a tractor AND a dump truck!!  Ten beautiful handmade birdhouses, yes I do like them very much...THANK YOU!!!  Rust iron...I mean, cast iron skillets?  I'm so lucky to have a whole set now!


*bidnow.com is not the actual website but when I told Thadd I was going to blog about his addiction he made me swear not to use the name for fear of poachers stealing his goods.  Yeah, ok, I promise.  In advance, please don't ask for the real name of the website as I was sworn to secrecy, seriously, Seriously, SERIOUSLY.  Also, if the rust ever comes off, I will post a picture.

While I Was Sick

Today I am FEVER FREE!!!  I want to scream it from the mountaintops---Hill Country tops will work fine, too.  I put on make up and my contacts.  I run errands.  I have lunch with my mom and kids at a restaurant.  I shop for school stuff.  I go to HEB.  I make dinner.  A normal day!  YIPEEEEEEEEEEEEE!  Even making dinner is fun as I pretend to be on Chopped and talk through my menu adding gastrique and ragoute when it sounds boring.  My dinner has neither, but my family is entertained by the cooking show.

During my illness I read a post by a dear friend who is battling pancreatic cancer.  He is sad because his numbers slightly went up.  He is changing his treatment and will lose his hair completely with this particular treatment plan, so he buzzed his hair.  He is still handsome.  He has been battling intensely for nine months and has never complained, but instead lifts people up and uses every opportunity to praise God for his blessings.  I was sick for five days and I was ready to be put out to pasture.

Needless to say, I feel frustrated with myself for being such a lightweight!!  I am better in five days and he is still battling nine months later.  I begin to thank God for his provision in my life and for blessing me with health and a sense of humor and also for GRACE, His grace.  I think today I'm asking for each of us to focus on one person in our lives who needs prayer.  Tonight as you rest your head on a pillow you might think of someone who does not have a pillow or a roof over their head.  Maybe your friend is battling cancer, too.  Possibly your friend is facing divorce, foreclosure, or addiction.  Maybe you are the one facing these horrors.  Take a moment to pray for yourself or for someone else.  If you don't know what to pray, you can start with the prayer I attached below.  If you decide you might want to pray for my friend, his name is Troy Hallmark (Mitzi, wife and Haley, daughter).

The Lord's Prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name;

thy kingdom come;

thy will be done;

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, [and] the power, and the glory,

for ever and ever. Amen.

Are Those Voices in My Head??

I am finally feeling better despite the low grade fever....oh and the wretched smoker's cough.  Yes, you are correct, I AM NOT NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN A SMOKER.  Each morning, well or not, I am responsible for a farm full of critters who require basic sustenance.  This week I have worn different outfits to make the walk to the chicken coop and the barn.  On the high fever days I wore pants, two shirts, socks and boots, but since I was feeling so much better today I made the trek in my usual tank top, undies and chicken rain boots.

I walk out of the house, stopping on the patio to stretch and pour kitty food in to the bowl.  The kittens hit the bowl first with their front paws in the food, purr-crunching their food delightfully.  I walk out the front gate and hear hissing, turning back just in time to see the babies scatter.  It is safe to say Cement Kitty(if you don't know who Cement Kitty is, read The Mystery on the Farm post) arrived to eat.  I continue toward the chicken coop and hear neighing in the distance.  I am spotted by Charles and he wants to know why on earth I'm feeding the chickens first, AGAIN(like I do every day)?

The chickens are waiting at the door to get out and wander their wild frontier.  My chickens give "free range" a whole new meaning as they utilize six of the eight acres.  They enjoy fresh bug supplies keeping my scorpion population down wherever they roam.  They are not allowed to roam near my house, sadly, due to their naughty pooping habit.  I really hope all this natural food and such will make them eggs producers SOON!!

I feed the chickens and cockatiels realizing the five gallon water containers are almost empty.  I grab the containers and head to the hose.  Buster(the dog), Marsha and Scratchy (the kittens) are watching me, keeping a distance to avoid having a bad hair day.  I finish filling one of the containers and start to carry it about 30 ft when I hear men talking.  CRAP!!!!!!!   There are not supposed to be people out here!!!!! I scramble and hide behind a tree.  Unfortunately, the tree I choose is like hiding a marshmallow behind a pretzel stick.  Stay tuned for a picture of the tree.

Ok, so men talking isn't that bad unless you are in a tank top, undies and rain boots!!  I'm not sure if in the world of fantasies there is such a fantasy, but I would like to name it Notty Farm Girl (Notty-not instead of Naughty because it is so wrong for anyone else to witness!!!).  I am horrified at the prospect of having been seen yet I cannot figure out the direction of the voices so the tree, small as it is, serves no purpose AT ALL.  I follow the sound of the voices, hiding behind more incompatible trees, wondering who these people are and why they are outside at feeding time??  Finally I realize the voices are about two properties away and behind a thicket, a couple fences, and a caliche pit.  They sound 100 feet away which I realize is due to the caliche pit and physics.  I promise I don't really understand how, but I'm sure someone could figure out the sound + curve+ distance and come up with a very good answer.

I finish at the coop and turn my attention east to the barn to feed Charles, Belle and Pip; this happens without incident. I start the walk back to the house with Buster, Scratchy, and Marsha following closely behind.  A great start to an almost fever free day!

The tree I used as a shield is the one right by Charles' head. Oh and in case you didn't see the solved mystery, check out my previous blog posted earlier today.

Mystery on The Farm SOLVED

I never would've imagined it to be my sweet, innocent, well-fed pony, CHARLES!!!

I will see you later tonight for the daily post!

The Story of Charles, Ummm Well Sort Of

Charles is my sweet paint pony.  He isn't a shetland pony, he is a standard pony.  Not a horse, a pony and no, he will not grow up to be a horse.  He will always be a pony.  Four months ago, before Charles, I didn't know any of this horsey stuff.  I always thought a pony was a young horse or something like that....I didn't know what I did or did not know about horses, but it was not much.

Some friends of ours jokingly gave us Charles, or so I thought.  I agreed to take delivery of him in April and my life has never been the same.  He is patient, kind, not boastful, not proud....wow, he looks a lot like 1 Corinthians 13:4-7.  I can bathe him, hug him, ride him, brush him, lean on him, sit under him, slap him on the butt, braid his mane, almost anything without a halter.  My children, kittens, chickens and goats call him friend and he actually likes all of us, I think.

Shortly after Charles, Augusta Belle (his goat) joins the farm.  She was recently weaned and has spent her entire life with goats and chickens.  Her bleating is like the piercing cry of an infant in serious distress.  Every time I leave the barn my heart melts at the sound of her cry.  I leave her all alone in a double stall barn and pasture with a stranger pony.  I try running from the barn to avoid hearing her cries, but they still make my heart ache.  I remember one time being thankful I was not a lactating mother as her, " MAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"  would probably cause leakage.  Anyone who has ever had a child is familiar with that lightning bolt sensation followed by the release of warm milk at the sound of your child or any child's cry.

This post is really about Charles, but you need to know Augusta Belle to understand why Charles is a saint!

Charlie and Belle become fast friends and spend every moment together.  I even catch Belle riding Charles which make no sense AT ALL.  I will post a picture so you can fully comprehend the craziness of a goat riding a pony!!  Belle is very lovable and enjoys being around people, a social goat.  She is high strung and often has fits of running and leaping through the air whilst twisting her body.  She MAAAAAAAAs constantly and is very needy.  Wait, Belle sounds a whole lot like ME!!

Here's the thing, Charles is the sweetest gentleman of a pony in all the world and his best friend and soul mate is a high strung social butterfly.  He follows her sometimes, but takes the lead when it matters.  He lets her jump all over him and literally rides on his back, unless he has something important pending.  He lets her talk and talk and talk, unless he has something to say.  One time Belle heard another group of goats bleating next door and hurried to the other end of the property.  The thick brush prevented Charles from getting to her.  He came to my front door and neighed until I came outside.  He led me over to where she was happily eating alongside her new friends and gave me "the face."  I herded her out of the thicket so Charles could remain by her side.

Charles is so much like my sweet, kind, not proud, not boastful husband.  I am so very much like the goat.  Their relationship is such a beautiful reminder of the wonderful gem I have in my dear sweet husband.  A man who lets me be the woman I am while still leading our home.  He is a wonderful husband, father, and friend.  He can keep a secret for me and never judges me.  I think the song Lead Me by Sanctus Real(see below) describes my husband so perfectly.  I know I was supposed to write about Charles!!  Charles makes me see my husband for the man he is...when we got home from vacation Saturday night, Thadd walked up to Charles and put his arms around his thick pony neck.  My eyes filled with tears; he also loves my animals.



I look around and see my wonderful life
Almost perfect from the outside
In picture frames, I see my beautiful wife
Always smiling, but on the inside

Oh, I can hear her saying

Lead me with strong hands
Stand up when I can't
Don't leave me hungry for love
Chasing dreams, but what about us?

Show me you're willing to fight
That I'm still the love of your life
I know we call this our home
But I still feel alone

I see their faces, look in their innocent eyes
They're just children from the outside
I'm working hard, I tell myself they'll be fine
They're independent, but on the inside

Oh, I can hear them saying

[ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/s/sanctus-real-lyrics/lead-me-lyrics.html ]
Lead me with strong hands
Stand up when I can't
Don't leave me hungry for love
Chasing dreams, what about us?

Show me you're willing to fight
That I'm still the love of your life
I know we call this our home
But I still feel alone

So Father, give me the strength
To be everything I'm called to be
Oh Father, show me the way
Oh Father, show me the way
To lead them

Won't You lead me?

To lead them with strong hands
To stand up when they can't
Don't want to leave them hungry for love
Chasing things that I could give up

I'll show them I'm willing to fight
And give them the best of my life
So we can call this our home
Lead me 'cause I can't do this alone

Father, lead me 'cause I can't do this alone

A Mystery on the Farm

I think the best part about living in the country is all the adventures it produces.  Since Sunday I've lost a cat and two goats, had a concrete kitty, and have cat food missing from the patio shortly after feeding time.  I'm part mom, part teacher, part wife, and part sleuth.
All day Sunday,  Scratchy the kitten spent the day in my husband's shadow while I was stuck in bed.  They worked in the the garden, the barn, and the coop.  At bedtime I go outside to check on everyone and Scratchy is missing.  ”mew mew mew mew!  mew mew mew mew!” I look in all the places he plays with no luck.  I turn to my husband in bed and say, ” I'm so worried about tiny kitty.”  He replies, ” You don't even worry about me that much!”  Ha! 
Still Sunday, I head to the barn to look for Scratchy when I realize the goats are missing.  I call to them and after about five minutes I see their bouncing ears rounding the neighbor's barn and squirming through the fence.  They run full speed till they are standing, with dirt flying, at attention in front of me.  Naughty goats, they found a hole in the fence.  Another job for my tired husband who just drove us fifteen hours and hasn't stopped working since he got home!!
The Outside Kitty (aka Kiki) sees me dragging myself back to the house and runs to greet me.  I look at her coming towards me and cock my head to the side to get a different angle.  Yup, she is wet.  She rubs on my leg and I bend down to give her some love and feels stiff peaks of meringue?  Not likely....of concrete!  While we were out of town the well drillers came to pour the slab for my well.  I guess Kiki thought it was cool and refreshing.  I try to brush it out of her fur at the risk of losing my hand and part of my face.  I give up quickly.  She seems fine and I've been finding chunks of concrete fur around so she is grooming herself and no one gets hurt.  Concrete also found its way on to my husband's car...oops.
Monday morning I wake up feeling miserable with Scratchy on the brain and a 102.4 fever.  My husband returns to work after our week of vacation leaving me to feed all the animals.  It took me twice as long to do my morning chores, but as I was walking back to the house I decided to check my car.  I hear scrambling and meowing!  Scratchy!  Oh sweet baby tiny cat what are you doing in the car?  I question the kids.  Chloe has an alibi.  Brett says, ” Yesterday I had to get the directions for my legos, but I didn't know he followed me!”  So glad I found him before the heat of the day, that is one lesson I don't want my children to learn through experience.
I still have no leads on the disappearing kitty food at my front door.  I have filled it twice today.  I tried to sit and watch the bowl to no avail as I fell asleep.  I know the cats don't eat it quickly, the dog is in bed with me, the pony has been sleeping outside my window all afternoon, that leaves chickens, deer, or raccoons.  I'm so annoyed.  I will be shopping for cat food in record time if I can't solve the Kitty Food Caper!
I am writing from the comfort of my bed with the faint sound of a cricket's song coming from Brett's room.  I yell to Bitey(the leopard gecko) to please quiet his food, which reminds me to check on the food outside.  Gone again!  I think this mystery is to be continued......
The photos below are of Scratchy and the cement fur clumps.  Happy reading!

I'm Always Right, Except For When I'm Wrong

The past three weeks have been full of sickness in my house.  Sadly, my husband was ill during our Big Summer Vacation.  The first week Chloe, my daughter, had over 103 fever for an entire week.   Brett spent a whole week with a fever, Thadd followed during our vacation and then the day we return home, I get it. 
I'm certain I haven't had a fever in a while.  I feel awful.  Everything hurts, EVERYTHING!  I'm a mom and as such am well versed in treating sickness symptoms.  Fever requires a BRAT diet, hydration, warm showers or baths, and dress in lightweight clothing.  So, I had cereal with milk (NO!), a little bit of water, a boiling hot shower, and then wrapped myself in a huge fuzzy robe and covered myself with two comforters.  Obviously, I'm sick and think all the things they say about a fever are lies;  a luke warm shower will NOT feel good!

Two weeks ago when Chloe was sick I asked her symptoms and stood with my hand on my hip in complete disbelief.  ”Chloe, your body does not hurt!  I can't imagine your neck and back hurt.  Clearly the spinal encyclopedia you read is swaying your symptoms.” Perhaps I also posted something of facebook about her drama.  Yesterday I was in bed almost crying because my body ached so badly.  The high doses of ibuprofen were more to treat the pain than the fever.  This morning I awoke in such pain I crawled out of bed to take more ibuprofen.  At about 2 o'clock, Chloe came and sat on my bed and began rubbing my back.  At 4 o'clock she wiped my forehead with a  wet wash cloth. 

Think back two weeks when I was torturing her for  ” being dramatic” and poking her leg and arm and asking, ”Does this hurt?”  I know, call Child Protective Services.  I look at her sweet face and say, ” Chloe I'm so sorry I didn't believe you when you were sick.”  She just smiles.

I was wrong.  So very wrong.  I'm also wrong in my fever treatment, but I just removed two blanket and my robe and I'm drenched in sweat.  I  guess I deserve to be since I didn't follow ANY  instructions! 

I'm lucky Chloe forgave me, we aren't always so lucky.

Wait, Did I Miss It?

This post is a hard one for me to write since it is something I struggle with daily. It does parallel with another post (Are You Committed to Something Valuable?), but it goes a little deeper. Can you take it?

The other day I was a dinner with my family and the table next to us had a single mom and her ten month old daughter. They walked in, sat down and for the next thirty minutes the young mom checked facebook. The little girl was very well behaved yet she kept trying to get the attention of anyone she could find.  I was an easy find for this child as I was drawn to her big, soft eyes. I wanted to hold her and talk to her and play a game of peek-a-boo.

Maybe I just caught them on an off day. Maybe this mom is super attentive but had a long day and needed to decompress. Maybe not. I've mentioned how I often ask my daughter to give me one sentence that describes me.  One time she said, ”I'm not sure because all you do is text and facebook. Ouch!

I do love people and enjoy the opportunity to live life surrounded by friends via facebook, but not at the expense of my family.  I still struggle with balancing my social life and my family life. Luckily I have a daughter who is not afraid to tell me the truth.

I know I need truth tellers in my life since I easily get hooked on, well, all sorts of things.  Sometimes I get offended prickly when I hear the truth.  Often it takes a couple days for the constructive criticism to sink in, but I want my family to know they matter most to me. 

Don't let it be you who asks, ”Wait, Did I Miss It?”

I'm Beyond Famous, I'm Infamous

My real name is Merissa.  It means Sea Star and, yes, I always dreamed of being a star. I have been putting on shows in living rooms across the country for as long as I can remember. You fancy a song?  No problem. A dance routine? I got it! Perhaps you prefer theatre? Comedy or tragedy?
I've been the star of my own show since birth.  Ok, so we've all been the star of our own show!  I dreamed of being a Broadway superstar and had all the necessary talents and opportunities, but when the time came to commit to the endless auditions and the countless ”thank you, you are free to go” speeches I packed up and left town.

I only ever wanted to be the best at something and if I wasn't the best I gave up.  As I matured I began to realize that I could be the best ME even if I wasn't the best (insert anything here).  In addition to maturing, I also felt a strong urge to move back to Texas.  I call it the Holy Spirit.
I arrive in Texas where I immediately find work as a dance director at a performing arts high school. My degree is in Dance Pedagogy so this job is perfect. I spend many hours a week in dance classes and rehearsals, training a young new breed.  Mostly I was learning from these students, although I was benefiting by collecting the pay check.  Some of the students loved me and others loathed me, yet they could all agree I gave a great stretch class!

I no longer teach at the performing arts school, but I am still a teacher.  I teach Spanish, although I think I'm much more well versed in the foreign language, ”crazy sauce.”  Unfortunately it is not a recognized class.  You see, the things I learned as I taught were more valuable than anything I could ever do on the stage.   I taught others to be the best. I helped them along their path to stardom, fame, success, failure, life. I've changed more lives as a teacher than I could ever have done as a star.

I perform everyday in a classroom and must bring my ”A” game.  I can't promise I'm always perfect, but I promise to commit to my students no matter the challenge.  My job is not really to teach them any particular subject matter, rather I  teach them to be the best they can be.  Some will go on to be scientists, attorneys, nurses, doctors, chefs, or maybe if they are lucky, a stay at home parent.  They will live their dreams and possibly walk away from them to do something better.  I know I did. 

The success my students have found qualifies me to also be a success.  Their successes lie in a variety of fields.  Some of my students have taken more time to mature and others are on their second or third career. Some students have become successful because of something I contributed to their lives and others in spite of me.  Successful all the same.  So, in a crazy way, I am famous...uh well, infamous.


*I am so thankful for the special teachers in my life who changed me and made me better.  I am also thankful to all of my students for their lessons...even the lessons that involved my students smelling like pot.  Unforgettable.

I Can't Wait To Get Out of Here!

We are on the road, heading west and then south, but ultimately towards home.  Home for me has been so many places, so many homes and cities alike.  I don't struggle with calling somewhere home even if it had only been hours since arrival.  All week the beach condo has been home. I only paid for one week, but home it became.

Two weeks ago I was sitting in a movie theater and I over heard some teenagers talking about home.  Two of them said, ”I can't wait to get out of this place and I'm never coming back!” and the other guy said, ”I love it here.  I hope I never have to leave.”  I grew up in Laredo, Texas and couldn't wait to leave.  Don't judge me, listen to why.

I always dreamed of being famous (this is a blog post in itself) in the form of either a movie star or a Broadway star.  Laredo is not exactly the silver screen!  If I dreamed of having an uber successful freight forwarding company, Laredo is the spot.  Ok, this paragraph was a MAJOR deviation.

I have made moves for various reasons and each move proved to be a blessing, sometimes in disguise.  With each move comes new routes to all of my favorite places, my furniture finding new resting spots, the pets enjoying a sniff-fest, and the kids finding new hiding spots (from each other).  We currently live in a place where there is work for both of us, a great school for the kids, and friends.  People come from far and wide to visit the Texas Hill Country as place of rest and beauty. I get to live there.

Without exception, every place I have lived has had something beautiful and unique.  Each city has a special gift and each home provides a unique perspective of how we, literally, see our family.  The most important thing I've found is my world only turns where my family lays their heads.  A cardboard box, a tent, a house, or an apartment are all the same if my family is there too. 

The United States has faced its worst homeless rate since the Great Depression and yet the stories you hear are one of hope.  The families bond together and make a home out of their car, a tent, or even a shelter.  At the end of the day, the roof doesn't matter.

So, whether you decide to leave your hometown or stay and make it better, enjoy all your town has to offer.  Get involved and make a difference.  Find what makes your city unique and celebrate those things.  At the end of the day, rest your head wherever your loved ones are and know that is the most perfect place of all.