It is time to be undone.
I have never claimed to be an angel. In fact, I'll be the first to tell you I am one of the least angelic people God ever made. I have committed egregious sins, told hurtful lies, abandoned my faith and my family. I have come back to God and my loved ones many times, and still walked away many times too. I have used words as daggers, and thrown a few punches. I have been fraudulent, and dishonest.
I have made sickeningly bad mistakes.
Call me every name in the book. Pray for me, hate me, be disturbed and disgusted by me and every decision I have made and will make. Do what you will, but know that your words and judgment and anger do not belong to me.
Whether you admire or despise the things I am doing and the changes I am making, whether you agree or not...It is entirely irrelevant. Even if you don't believe it, it is irrelevant. I am making the choices that I am making. Me. The choices that I believe in...Me.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
hmmm...
Dearest Anonymous,
First, I don't speak for everyone, only myself, but I want to let you know that I hear your angst, and I lament with you on many levels. The pain Laurie's death has brought to our family, our friends, and strangers alike has been monumental. However, the issue of forgiveness is a different story altogether from out human anger.
The fact is, God knew the very moment he created Laurie how she would die. He knew, yet she was still so valuable to Him that He gave her the precious gift of life, and free will. He loved her the moment He placed her into our mother's womb, and He loved her the moment she held her breath forever. The love He has for her, and always will, is positively imcomparable to any we might ever have had for her, and as much as it pains us, it is simply NONE of our business.
When she came to Him at the moment of her death, the only thing there was God and Laurie. The words they shared are something we never, ever will know, but there is one thing that I know, simply as a human mother...no sin could my child commit on this earth that would ever cause me to call him invaluable, unloved, unforgivable. And if I am a mere human, just a girl on this earth, who feels this way, how much more must the God of the universe feel for one of His children?
The thing about sin is that, as bad as Laurie's choice of suicide seems to us here on earth, the truth is that you and I have committed sins just as horrific and awful, and 100% shameful to God TODAY. We did it yesterday, and will do it again tomorrow. That is the thing about sin...every single one is equal in the eyes of God. EVERY ONE. The little white lie you told this morning, and the glaring look I gave to someone today. The lustful thought my friend had, and the candy my son took from his sister...each of these are punishable by one thing, and one thing only...eternal death. Hell.
The grace of God. But for the grace of God, we would all be going to hell for what we did today. Laurie, and you, me, my friend, my son...all of us have fallen short of the glory of God, and deserve to suffer, to die, eternally. When God sent His son to die on the cross for our sins (our mistakes, our errors, our wrongs, our lies, our theft, our cruelty...they are all equal) He NEVER said that there were limits. He knew then, He knows now, and He will always know that we are fallen, we are bound for sin. He chose to allow us that chance to come to Him, and be forgiven. He chose to offer us salvation. By His unfailing grace, He said that every sin we could ever think of would be forgivable.
Laurie loved God. She begged for His mercy in her final note. She used her life to be a good and faithful servant to Him, and just as He forgave the many other little sins she committed in her life, He forgave her for taking her own life.
All sin is the same, it is equal, but to the same point, it is also a personal issue. The day I come before God, it will be only myself and Him. The day you come before Him, it will be only you and Him. Honestly, I do not know what He will say to you, or me, or to a gay man, or a murderous woman, or a child who cussed at school. We have but one God, and one life, and ONE audience at that moment. For this time, I will choose to honor what He has placed on my heart for my life, and honor those around me (whether I agree or not) for the mere fact that the faces I see are the faces of God's children.
God's children...each one.
First, I don't speak for everyone, only myself, but I want to let you know that I hear your angst, and I lament with you on many levels. The pain Laurie's death has brought to our family, our friends, and strangers alike has been monumental. However, the issue of forgiveness is a different story altogether from out human anger.
The fact is, God knew the very moment he created Laurie how she would die. He knew, yet she was still so valuable to Him that He gave her the precious gift of life, and free will. He loved her the moment He placed her into our mother's womb, and He loved her the moment she held her breath forever. The love He has for her, and always will, is positively imcomparable to any we might ever have had for her, and as much as it pains us, it is simply NONE of our business.
When she came to Him at the moment of her death, the only thing there was God and Laurie. The words they shared are something we never, ever will know, but there is one thing that I know, simply as a human mother...no sin could my child commit on this earth that would ever cause me to call him invaluable, unloved, unforgivable. And if I am a mere human, just a girl on this earth, who feels this way, how much more must the God of the universe feel for one of His children?
The thing about sin is that, as bad as Laurie's choice of suicide seems to us here on earth, the truth is that you and I have committed sins just as horrific and awful, and 100% shameful to God TODAY. We did it yesterday, and will do it again tomorrow. That is the thing about sin...every single one is equal in the eyes of God. EVERY ONE. The little white lie you told this morning, and the glaring look I gave to someone today. The lustful thought my friend had, and the candy my son took from his sister...each of these are punishable by one thing, and one thing only...eternal death. Hell.
The grace of God. But for the grace of God, we would all be going to hell for what we did today. Laurie, and you, me, my friend, my son...all of us have fallen short of the glory of God, and deserve to suffer, to die, eternally. When God sent His son to die on the cross for our sins (our mistakes, our errors, our wrongs, our lies, our theft, our cruelty...they are all equal) He NEVER said that there were limits. He knew then, He knows now, and He will always know that we are fallen, we are bound for sin. He chose to allow us that chance to come to Him, and be forgiven. He chose to offer us salvation. By His unfailing grace, He said that every sin we could ever think of would be forgivable.
Laurie loved God. She begged for His mercy in her final note. She used her life to be a good and faithful servant to Him, and just as He forgave the many other little sins she committed in her life, He forgave her for taking her own life.
All sin is the same, it is equal, but to the same point, it is also a personal issue. The day I come before God, it will be only myself and Him. The day you come before Him, it will be only you and Him. Honestly, I do not know what He will say to you, or me, or to a gay man, or a murderous woman, or a child who cussed at school. We have but one God, and one life, and ONE audience at that moment. For this time, I will choose to honor what He has placed on my heart for my life, and honor those around me (whether I agree or not) for the mere fact that the faces I see are the faces of God's children.
God's children...each one.
Monday, November 21, 2005
The thing about dying...
Those are the words that have been rattling around in my brain today. The thing about dying is...I actually called a few of my friends who have lost someone, and asked them about it, what they think the thing about dying is.
Dan lost his father a few years back, and he said the thing about dying is that it can't be undone. No matter how hard you desperately wish for another five minutes, for another dance, another hug, another smile, it can't be undone. It is, for this life anyways, a closed book, not a single chapter left to read. He said that when he looks back, he can't help but think of the things he said that he wished he hadn't, and the things he didn't say that he wishes he had.
Chris lost her mother in 1996, and she said the thing about dying is that life still goes on. She told me how it hurts when she thinks about all the things that have happened since then, and that will happen, that her mom didn't get to share. Weddings, and babies, and new jobs, and, well, other deaths. She told me that she is happy her mom isn't in pain anymore, but she is so sad that they don't get to do life together anymore.
Theresa lost her husband last year, and she said the thing about dying is that it is inevitable, but still unimaginable. She told me about her wedding, and how she promised to love him til death, and she meant it but she had no idea that it was only three years away. She said that while we all know in a cognitive sense that we will all perish one day, we are still so taken aback, so destroyed, so surprised when it happens to someone we love.
Dorothy lost her teenaged daughter 8 years ago, and she said the thing about dying is that it changes everything. One day she was a busy mom of four, and the next day, a brutal virus had taken her daughter, and changed the trajectory of their family's lives forever. One day she was picking out a college, and the next day she was picking out a casket. One day she was bright and happy, and the next day she was in a downward spiraling depression. One day she loved God, and the next day she needed God.
Tommy's dad died when he was only 13, and he said that the thing about dying is that whether there is a long, painful illness, or an unexpected end, its a sudden impact with a ripple effect to those left behind. Like the ocean, the tide goes in and out, with ripples left behind somewhere out there. Whether it is a tidal wave, with a giant impact, or a tiny splashing on the shore, behind it are ripples. "Those ripples form and change lives...my life, which changes your life, which changes the next life, and it goes on and on. In the present and for the future...everything has changed course, and can never be the same." He told me that he wonders what kind of man he would have grown into had his father been alive through his adolescence, when he grew into the man he is now. "Would I be the same? Probably not..."
Myself, I think the thing about dying is all of those things, and some more. The thing about dying is that it is permanent. The thing about dying is that I am still here and still going. The thing about dying is that I will still lose more people that I love, and I, too, will die. The thing about dying is that I have a different life now that I have lost. The thing about dying is that my loss has changed me, and those changes will change the people I love, which will change the people they love, and so on...
And the thing about dying is that one day, I will have the answers. One day, I will get to know, see, have the truth, and I will know the thing about dying. The thing about dying is that one day, it will not matter. Today, it is hard, and lonely, and raw, and painful, and broken-hearted, and ugly. But the thing about dying is that one day, when my name gets called, it will not be any of those things for me. It will be a calling home, a celebration with my God, a dance, a party, a true and complete joy. That is the thing about dying...
What do you think is the thing about dying?
Go ahead now, post it as a comment. It doesn't have to be a big deal, just answer exactly as the friends I asked did it...
Finish this sentence for me: The thing about dying is....
Dan lost his father a few years back, and he said the thing about dying is that it can't be undone. No matter how hard you desperately wish for another five minutes, for another dance, another hug, another smile, it can't be undone. It is, for this life anyways, a closed book, not a single chapter left to read. He said that when he looks back, he can't help but think of the things he said that he wished he hadn't, and the things he didn't say that he wishes he had.
Chris lost her mother in 1996, and she said the thing about dying is that life still goes on. She told me how it hurts when she thinks about all the things that have happened since then, and that will happen, that her mom didn't get to share. Weddings, and babies, and new jobs, and, well, other deaths. She told me that she is happy her mom isn't in pain anymore, but she is so sad that they don't get to do life together anymore.
Theresa lost her husband last year, and she said the thing about dying is that it is inevitable, but still unimaginable. She told me about her wedding, and how she promised to love him til death, and she meant it but she had no idea that it was only three years away. She said that while we all know in a cognitive sense that we will all perish one day, we are still so taken aback, so destroyed, so surprised when it happens to someone we love.
Dorothy lost her teenaged daughter 8 years ago, and she said the thing about dying is that it changes everything. One day she was a busy mom of four, and the next day, a brutal virus had taken her daughter, and changed the trajectory of their family's lives forever. One day she was picking out a college, and the next day she was picking out a casket. One day she was bright and happy, and the next day she was in a downward spiraling depression. One day she loved God, and the next day she needed God.
Tommy's dad died when he was only 13, and he said that the thing about dying is that whether there is a long, painful illness, or an unexpected end, its a sudden impact with a ripple effect to those left behind. Like the ocean, the tide goes in and out, with ripples left behind somewhere out there. Whether it is a tidal wave, with a giant impact, or a tiny splashing on the shore, behind it are ripples. "Those ripples form and change lives...my life, which changes your life, which changes the next life, and it goes on and on. In the present and for the future...everything has changed course, and can never be the same." He told me that he wonders what kind of man he would have grown into had his father been alive through his adolescence, when he grew into the man he is now. "Would I be the same? Probably not..."
Myself, I think the thing about dying is all of those things, and some more. The thing about dying is that it is permanent. The thing about dying is that I am still here and still going. The thing about dying is that I will still lose more people that I love, and I, too, will die. The thing about dying is that I have a different life now that I have lost. The thing about dying is that my loss has changed me, and those changes will change the people I love, which will change the people they love, and so on...
And the thing about dying is that one day, I will have the answers. One day, I will get to know, see, have the truth, and I will know the thing about dying. The thing about dying is that one day, it will not matter. Today, it is hard, and lonely, and raw, and painful, and broken-hearted, and ugly. But the thing about dying is that one day, when my name gets called, it will not be any of those things for me. It will be a calling home, a celebration with my God, a dance, a party, a true and complete joy. That is the thing about dying...
What do you think is the thing about dying?
Go ahead now, post it as a comment. It doesn't have to be a big deal, just answer exactly as the friends I asked did it...
Finish this sentence for me: The thing about dying is....
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
Forty nerdy...
Alright, this will be brief, but I felt like sharing something with y'all that put my heart in a good place today...some words from my little girl, Maya.
We were snuggling on the couch, and she looked at me and said "Mom, I love you forty nerdy." With one eyebrow cocked, and a smile on my face, I simply said "um, what?" She repeated it. "I love you forty nerdy, like the TV commercial." I shrugged, and told her I loved her forty nerdy too, even though I had no idea what she was talking about, or what it meant. About an hour later, we saw the commercial. It is for a diamond company, and is sweet and mush...especially the part where the man tells the woman "I love you for eternity." Ah, forty nerdy. Got it.
Hope y'all have a great day, and know that somebody loves you forty nerdy.
We were snuggling on the couch, and she looked at me and said "Mom, I love you forty nerdy." With one eyebrow cocked, and a smile on my face, I simply said "um, what?" She repeated it. "I love you forty nerdy, like the TV commercial." I shrugged, and told her I loved her forty nerdy too, even though I had no idea what she was talking about, or what it meant. About an hour later, we saw the commercial. It is for a diamond company, and is sweet and mush...especially the part where the man tells the woman "I love you for eternity." Ah, forty nerdy. Got it.
Hope y'all have a great day, and know that somebody loves you forty nerdy.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Oops.
I forgot the most important part...the tagging!
Again, I don't know how to do the fancy links, so work with me!
DocAmazing (http://docamazing.blogspot.com/)
Mark (aka pastor guy) (http://akapastorguy.blogspot.com/)
Randi (http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=rlbahnick)
Alison (http://alisonstrobel.blogspot.com/)
Aunt Gail (http://tattooedthoughts.blogspot.com/)
Now get to work!
Lub!
Again, I don't know how to do the fancy links, so work with me!
DocAmazing (http://docamazing.blogspot.com/)
Mark (aka pastor guy) (http://akapastorguy.blogspot.com/)
Randi (http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=rlbahnick)
Alison (http://alisonstrobel.blogspot.com/)
Aunt Gail (http://tattooedthoughts.blogspot.com/)
Now get to work!
Lub!
Monday, October 31, 2005
As promised to my darling Anna...
I have been tagged, so I will play along. (oh, and I don't feel like studying for an exam tomorrow...)
20 random tidbits about Katie...
1) I can touch my tongue to my nose (very handy in the winter, during drippy-snot season.)
2) I know 42 words that can be spelled using only the letters in Todd Hollandsworth's name.
3) I have a cool t-shirt collection.
4) I moved into my first house 4 years ago today.
5) I once was "escorted home" by the police after T.P.ing a boy's house (Aah, Josh Eakright!)
6) I bought my husband a $950 DVD. (Funny story...now, anyways!)
7) My favorite pair of shoes (my adidas sambas!) were given to me by my 8th grade boyfriend, and I still wear them almost every day! (Last x-mas, Tommy almost bought me a new pair, but finally just looked at me and said "you're still gonna wear the old ones, aren't you?" Yup!)
8) I carry a baby spoon in my purse, because I have a freakish inability to consume a mixed drink without stirring it constantly. (OCD? Perhaps...but I prefer to call it quirky!)
9) I have a full-ride at school, and this year, it even covered the cost of an iPod! (How that helps me to study better is none of your business... plus I can't think of a good reason. Who cares?!? Free iPod!!!)
10) My brothers call me "Dade" because I once said I wanted to become "an ice cream dade" (whatever that is...)
11) One time while we lived in Oregon, an entire 16 floor building was evacuated because your truly accidentally set off the fire alarm!
12) Because of a man named Ralph, I can sing my ABC's backwards, count to 18 in roman numerals, tell my kids that M-O-M-M-Y needs C-O-F-F-E-E, and feel free to dream aloud about a Cubbie World Series. (Ralph's World, the most creative indie rocker/children's folk music dude in the world. Parents, if you love your children at all, you will check him out.)
13) My friend Jen and I once recorded an original song ("Coche Azul." Oh, and don't ever ask to hear it, because I'd rather eat my own brain than play it for anyone.)
14) 3 of my four babies have birthdays within a two week span.(May 17, May 18, June 3), and my fourth baby's birthday is the day after mine. (Sept 7, Sept 8)
15) Though I very rarely drink soda, when I do, it disgusts my hubby. I like it warm and flat, so I open it the night before, and leave it on the counter so its "ready" the next day.
16) I have a raised birthmark on my left arm that used to pulsate when I breastfed.
17) My next-door neighbor is 102, and was sitting on her porch giving out candy and trinkets to the neighborhood kids today, chatting away and having a grand old time. She's so cool. (Her husband is 98, and when we moved in, we forgot what he said his name was, so we just decided to call him "Ray" amongst ourselves. 3 years later, we finally found out his actual name due to a misdirected piece of mail. It's Ted.)
18) I've always thought I hated tuna salad, but I tried it last week, and it ain't half bad.
19) In high school, I was the girl who wore the absolute craziest stuff (like the "plaid outfit" which consisted of about 8 different kinds of red plaid...pants, shirt, necktie, vest, socks (with my clear shoes!) belt, scrunchie...it was out there!)
20) The first purchase for our home was a garbage disposal...which is still in it's box in the closet as we speak.
Ta da! Have a good one, kids...now go get funky.
later gators,
kater the potater-hater
20 random tidbits about Katie...
1) I can touch my tongue to my nose (very handy in the winter, during drippy-snot season.)
2) I know 42 words that can be spelled using only the letters in Todd Hollandsworth's name.
3) I have a cool t-shirt collection.
4) I moved into my first house 4 years ago today.
5) I once was "escorted home" by the police after T.P.ing a boy's house (Aah, Josh Eakright!)
6) I bought my husband a $950 DVD. (Funny story...now, anyways!)
7) My favorite pair of shoes (my adidas sambas!) were given to me by my 8th grade boyfriend, and I still wear them almost every day! (Last x-mas, Tommy almost bought me a new pair, but finally just looked at me and said "you're still gonna wear the old ones, aren't you?" Yup!)
8) I carry a baby spoon in my purse, because I have a freakish inability to consume a mixed drink without stirring it constantly. (OCD? Perhaps...but I prefer to call it quirky!)
9) I have a full-ride at school, and this year, it even covered the cost of an iPod! (How that helps me to study better is none of your business... plus I can't think of a good reason. Who cares?!? Free iPod!!!)
10) My brothers call me "Dade" because I once said I wanted to become "an ice cream dade" (whatever that is...)
11) One time while we lived in Oregon, an entire 16 floor building was evacuated because your truly accidentally set off the fire alarm!
12) Because of a man named Ralph, I can sing my ABC's backwards, count to 18 in roman numerals, tell my kids that M-O-M-M-Y needs C-O-F-F-E-E, and feel free to dream aloud about a Cubbie World Series. (Ralph's World, the most creative indie rocker/children's folk music dude in the world. Parents, if you love your children at all, you will check him out.)
13) My friend Jen and I once recorded an original song ("Coche Azul." Oh, and don't ever ask to hear it, because I'd rather eat my own brain than play it for anyone.)
14) 3 of my four babies have birthdays within a two week span.(May 17, May 18, June 3), and my fourth baby's birthday is the day after mine. (Sept 7, Sept 8)
15) Though I very rarely drink soda, when I do, it disgusts my hubby. I like it warm and flat, so I open it the night before, and leave it on the counter so its "ready" the next day.
16) I have a raised birthmark on my left arm that used to pulsate when I breastfed.
17) My next-door neighbor is 102, and was sitting on her porch giving out candy and trinkets to the neighborhood kids today, chatting away and having a grand old time. She's so cool. (Her husband is 98, and when we moved in, we forgot what he said his name was, so we just decided to call him "Ray" amongst ourselves. 3 years later, we finally found out his actual name due to a misdirected piece of mail. It's Ted.)
18) I've always thought I hated tuna salad, but I tried it last week, and it ain't half bad.
19) In high school, I was the girl who wore the absolute craziest stuff (like the "plaid outfit" which consisted of about 8 different kinds of red plaid...pants, shirt, necktie, vest, socks (with my clear shoes!) belt, scrunchie...it was out there!)
20) The first purchase for our home was a garbage disposal...which is still in it's box in the closet as we speak.
Ta da! Have a good one, kids...now go get funky.
later gators,
kater the potater-hater
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Simply put, it has been so long.
It has been so long since I have written. I wish I could say it is because I have been too busy having joyous day after day, but it isn't true. Heck, I even wish I could say there has been nothing to write about, no emotion worth putting in words, but that isn't true either.
It has been so long since I have felt real. It has simply been so long since I have been a whole person.
Yesterday, Kristin called me, and if it weren't for caller ID, I wouldn't have known it was her, for all I could hear were tears, an occasional sniffle, a few outright sobs. Immediately, I cried, too. The feeling that flooded into me was one that is hard to explain. It's an old feeling, from when I was just a little kid, 6 or 7 maybe. A feeling of fierce protectiveness, more than merely empathy, the feeling I would get when something made Laurie cry. To hear her cry would squeeze my heart, and make me cry too. It is not that I was upset by what bothered her, I would cry because the sound of her tears broke my big-sister heart. When Kristin cried last night, I felt that same feeling, and it's associations. I cried because I hate hearing my sister cry.
Of course, as we talked, I found plenty of other reasons...
You know how there are those stages of grief? Denial, sadness, anger, bargaining, and acceptance, I think they are, though perhaps not in that order. I have been told many times that it is okay to skip around, and repeat some stages, and get all haywire. Well I have come to realize that the step I have been hitting recently doesn't quite fit the labels. It isn't really acceptance, though it's close. It's more like "un-denial." It's like I keep being struck by the reality of it all, over and over. Laurie is really dead. My sister is gone. The reason it isn't acceptance is because "acceptance" sounds like it is probably a good thing, a step in a positive direction, and that is just simply not how this feels. It feels worse than it has since March. I feel lower, more broken, more broken-hearted now than I have since she quit living. I feel like it makes even less sense each day, as I get further and further away from the time when I still had her. It simply has been so long...
PS My mom had to dial the phone and make the first appointment for me, but it got the ball rolling...
It has been so long since I have felt real. It has simply been so long since I have been a whole person.
Yesterday, Kristin called me, and if it weren't for caller ID, I wouldn't have known it was her, for all I could hear were tears, an occasional sniffle, a few outright sobs. Immediately, I cried, too. The feeling that flooded into me was one that is hard to explain. It's an old feeling, from when I was just a little kid, 6 or 7 maybe. A feeling of fierce protectiveness, more than merely empathy, the feeling I would get when something made Laurie cry. To hear her cry would squeeze my heart, and make me cry too. It is not that I was upset by what bothered her, I would cry because the sound of her tears broke my big-sister heart. When Kristin cried last night, I felt that same feeling, and it's associations. I cried because I hate hearing my sister cry.
Of course, as we talked, I found plenty of other reasons...
You know how there are those stages of grief? Denial, sadness, anger, bargaining, and acceptance, I think they are, though perhaps not in that order. I have been told many times that it is okay to skip around, and repeat some stages, and get all haywire. Well I have come to realize that the step I have been hitting recently doesn't quite fit the labels. It isn't really acceptance, though it's close. It's more like "un-denial." It's like I keep being struck by the reality of it all, over and over. Laurie is really dead. My sister is gone. The reason it isn't acceptance is because "acceptance" sounds like it is probably a good thing, a step in a positive direction, and that is just simply not how this feels. It feels worse than it has since March. I feel lower, more broken, more broken-hearted now than I have since she quit living. I feel like it makes even less sense each day, as I get further and further away from the time when I still had her. It simply has been so long...
PS My mom had to dial the phone and make the first appointment for me, but it got the ball rolling...
Thursday, October 13, 2005
My baby sister is 21 years old!
My beautiful, wonderful, brilliant, hilarious, charming, kind, AMAZING Kristin...
I cannot believe how you have grown. You blow me away, baby girl, by the woman you have become. I am so proud to have you as my sister, it makes me eyes water and my smile stretch.
I know I told you this last night, but I want to tell you again, because it is 100% truth, every word...
If all, all, all the 21 year old girls in the whole wide world were lined up in a huge single file line, I would start walking, and walking until I found you! Then I'd pick you up, and swing you around, tell you how very much I love, love, love you, and take you home forever.
Happy Birthday, darling Kristin!
I cannot believe how you have grown. You blow me away, baby girl, by the woman you have become. I am so proud to have you as my sister, it makes me eyes water and my smile stretch.
I know I told you this last night, but I want to tell you again, because it is 100% truth, every word...
If all, all, all the 21 year old girls in the whole wide world were lined up in a huge single file line, I would start walking, and walking until I found you! Then I'd pick you up, and swing you around, tell you how very much I love, love, love you, and take you home forever.
Happy Birthday, darling Kristin!
Monday, October 10, 2005
I knew I didn't like Drew for a reason!!!
And yet, I am still a good sport. Fine. here is your stupid tag-list. (although it is a bit interesting, if not suprising to see what you are listening to, Drewpie!)
THE RULES: List five songs that you are currently loving. It doesn't matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists, and the songs in your blog. Then tag five other friends to see what they're listening to.
1. Don't Phunk With My Heart (Black Eyed Peas)
2. How Could This Happen To Me? (Simple Plan)
3. Held (Natalie Grant)
4. Sweet Child O' Mine (GNR)
5. Sarah (Paul Alan)
And now for the fun part...(by the way, I don't know how to link, so deal!) Y'all are tagged!!!
AnnMarie (http://juaintheam.blogspot.com/)
Debbi D. (http://debdun10.blogspot.com/)
Anna P. (http://ampointyourtoes.blogspot.com/)
Kim (http://bumpyroadsontheway.blogspot.com/)
Mandy (http://pixiethawts.blogspot.com/)
Lub, and lub, and lub!!!
THE RULES: List five songs that you are currently loving. It doesn't matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists, and the songs in your blog. Then tag five other friends to see what they're listening to.
1. Don't Phunk With My Heart (Black Eyed Peas)
2. How Could This Happen To Me? (Simple Plan)
3. Held (Natalie Grant)
4. Sweet Child O' Mine (GNR)
5. Sarah (Paul Alan)
And now for the fun part...(by the way, I don't know how to link, so deal!) Y'all are tagged!!!
AnnMarie (http://juaintheam.blogspot.com/)
Debbi D. (http://debdun10.blogspot.com/)
Anna P. (http://ampointyourtoes.blogspot.com/)
Kim (http://bumpyroadsontheway.blogspot.com/)
Mandy (http://pixiethawts.blogspot.com/)
Lub, and lub, and lub!!!
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Nightswimming...
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
Turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
Replaced by everyday.
Nightswimming, remembering that night.
September's coming soon.
I'm pining for the moon.
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
That bright, tight forever drum
Could not describe nightswimming.
You, I thought I knew you.
You I cannot judge.
You, I thought you knew me,
This one laughing quietly underneath my breath.
Nightswimming.
The photograph reflects,
Every streetlight a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.
-R.E.M
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
Turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
Replaced by everyday.
Nightswimming, remembering that night.
September's coming soon.
I'm pining for the moon.
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
That bright, tight forever drum
Could not describe nightswimming.
You, I thought I knew you.
You I cannot judge.
You, I thought you knew me,
This one laughing quietly underneath my breath.
Nightswimming.
The photograph reflects,
Every streetlight a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.
-R.E.M
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Thanks, Mom...
For:
1) My new carpeting, entertainment center, window treatments, etc!
2) Coming to the parade with us to show the children the proper way to scream "CANDY!!!"
3) Reminding me that the block party is coming
4) Letting me ramble about school at random times
5) Getting me cool books that are exactly what I need for encouragement
6) Being so proud of me, even when I feel like I have no idea what I am doing
7) Teaching me the sheer joy of the clearance rack
8) Laughing with me until we cry
9) Crying with me until we laugh
10) Squeezing me out of your body 27 years ago, give or take a few hours...
I love you oodles.
Tommy, thanks for letting me have a Todd Hollandsworth jersey, even if it makes me cry. He might be a Brave now, but he is still the "Fun Cub" to me. Besides, studies show that 60% of the time it works every time. Lub.
1) My new carpeting, entertainment center, window treatments, etc!
2) Coming to the parade with us to show the children the proper way to scream "CANDY!!!"
3) Reminding me that the block party is coming
4) Letting me ramble about school at random times
5) Getting me cool books that are exactly what I need for encouragement
6) Being so proud of me, even when I feel like I have no idea what I am doing
7) Teaching me the sheer joy of the clearance rack
8) Laughing with me until we cry
9) Crying with me until we laugh
10) Squeezing me out of your body 27 years ago, give or take a few hours...
I love you oodles.
Tommy, thanks for letting me have a Todd Hollandsworth jersey, even if it makes me cry. He might be a Brave now, but he is still the "Fun Cub" to me. Besides, studies show that 60% of the time it works every time. Lub.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Dear Anonymous comment #9...
Anonymous said...
Why do you allow the kids to rule the home?
11:54 PM
Dear Anonymous,
First, and most importantly, kiss off.
Seriously, you are a piece of work. Try as I might, I simply do not understand people like you. I do not understand what it is about going out of your way to be cruel and insenstive and 100% devoid of any compassion that is so attractive to you. I just do not understand why you delight so much in your inhumanity. Can you explain? Can you tell me what is going through your head? What happened to you to make you bitter, mean, and ashamed of yourself? To paraphrase your own question, why do you allow evil to rule your heart? Perhaps if you share, we'd all know better how to pray for you...
In the meantime, I just wanted to make sure I express how grateful I am to so many of you who have offered your time to me, and your prayers. They are certainly coveted. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful fellowship surrounding me...y'all are good.
Always,
Katie
Why do you allow the kids to rule the home?
11:54 PM
Dear Anonymous,
First, and most importantly, kiss off.
Seriously, you are a piece of work. Try as I might, I simply do not understand people like you. I do not understand what it is about going out of your way to be cruel and insenstive and 100% devoid of any compassion that is so attractive to you. I just do not understand why you delight so much in your inhumanity. Can you explain? Can you tell me what is going through your head? What happened to you to make you bitter, mean, and ashamed of yourself? To paraphrase your own question, why do you allow evil to rule your heart? Perhaps if you share, we'd all know better how to pray for you...
In the meantime, I just wanted to make sure I express how grateful I am to so many of you who have offered your time to me, and your prayers. They are certainly coveted. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful fellowship surrounding me...y'all are good.
Always,
Katie
Sunday, August 21, 2005
A toast...to the end of an era...
Alright, this post will be brief (as I am procrastinating thoroughly right now, but really don't have the liberty!) I just wanted to share something that has been on my mind for the last week or so... life, as I know it, is over.
Tomorrow morning, at 8 am, I start my final year of nursing school (assuming I do not fail out!) I'll study, and slave, and work my little butt off to keep my grades. Tommy and I will run a schedule tighter than Daisy Duke's daisy dukes. The kids will have baseball, ballet, tae kwon do, tap dancing, birthday parties, first grade, and ten million other things sure to come up on a daily basis. Tommy officially will take on a management role, after 6 months of studying, training, testing, and jumping through hoops of fire. And in May, when I graduate, I will be a real live nurse. Everyone and their mother has heard that there is a nursing shortage, so there is no worry that I will find a stellar job right after, if not before graduation. I'll take that job, and love it, and slave, and work my little butt off to do well. Tommy and I will run a schedule tighter than Daisy Duke's daisy dukes. The kids will have baseball, ballet, tae kwon do, tap...etc, etc, etc. Catch my drift?
Today is the last day of my summer break. Tomorrow, I begin the journey that doesn't end until retirement. Sure, maybe I am being a bit overdramatic, but in lots of respects, it really feels like today is the last day of an era in my life, and tomorrow is the first day of another.
Kinda depressing, kinda cool. Anyhow, wish me luck...
Tomorrow morning, at 8 am, I start my final year of nursing school (assuming I do not fail out!) I'll study, and slave, and work my little butt off to keep my grades. Tommy and I will run a schedule tighter than Daisy Duke's daisy dukes. The kids will have baseball, ballet, tae kwon do, tap dancing, birthday parties, first grade, and ten million other things sure to come up on a daily basis. Tommy officially will take on a management role, after 6 months of studying, training, testing, and jumping through hoops of fire. And in May, when I graduate, I will be a real live nurse. Everyone and their mother has heard that there is a nursing shortage, so there is no worry that I will find a stellar job right after, if not before graduation. I'll take that job, and love it, and slave, and work my little butt off to do well. Tommy and I will run a schedule tighter than Daisy Duke's daisy dukes. The kids will have baseball, ballet, tae kwon do, tap...etc, etc, etc. Catch my drift?
Today is the last day of my summer break. Tomorrow, I begin the journey that doesn't end until retirement. Sure, maybe I am being a bit overdramatic, but in lots of respects, it really feels like today is the last day of an era in my life, and tomorrow is the first day of another.
Kinda depressing, kinda cool. Anyhow, wish me luck...
Friday, August 19, 2005
Minty Fresh!!!
Around our house, bedtime is 8:00, give or take a bit. Some folks might balk at that, thinking that 8:00 is ridiculously early, heck it isn't even completely dark then. However, walk a day in my shoes, and you will soon see why those last fifteen minutes until the witching hour may as well be fifteen years.
Our day starts at a decent hour, depending on the whims of the children. Typically, it's around 8 am. The tricky part is that it is a daily gamble on whether or not the children will choose to head right in to get mom and dad moving, or make a pit stop somewhere first. By pit stop, I basically mean "find something that they are forbidden to play with, and simply go to town!" Examples of previous adventures? Permanent marker all over the computer monitor, white-out everywhere (including themselves), more selections of "artwork" on the walls than I can even count, the consumption of literally pounds of candy(which was stored on top of the fridge, mind you!) I'm sure I am missing plenty (oh yes, the time they covered Maya's entire bedroom with a fine layer of baby powder, that was fun!) but you'll have to take my word for it, we've been through the ringer.
I might add that there are many "misadventures" gone on with my children that have taken place at other times of day than the wee hours of the morning, such as the day that I was in the shower, pregnant with Isaiah, and had "trapped" the children upstairs with me via baby gate. Unfortunately, I had neglected to double check that there were no safety scissors within reach (yup, not the real ones, I'm talking about the stupid round tip, don't cut anything including paper dumb ones.) Midway through my 3 minutes of (relative) peace, I heard Maya's little voice from the other side of the shower curtain. "Mommy, Denver gave me a mullet!" Slowly, I peeked out to find that he had indeed. Diligently, yet quickly, he had lopped all the hair (and only the hair) on top of her head to a half-inch length. It was awful. The only way to salvage anything was to cut all of it, her whole head to that length, and call it a pixie cut. If you have never seen it, and want a good laugh, let me show you some pictures. Trust me, Maya's head is far too round for that look!
Or recently, for example, during the 15 minute visit from our mortgage people to have some papers notarized, I sent the children to the basement playroom, and chatted with the friendly notary. I actually said the words "uh oh, it is just too quiet! I wonder what they are up to..." After the kind woman left, I wished I could have eaten my words, so badly did murphy's law bite me. It turns out they were hungry, so they saw no problems with sneaking to the kitchen to grab a bag of groceries not yet unpacked, and make a snack. I am pretty sure it has happened to all of us at one point, as we have made ourselves a peanut butter sandwich...one thought: I should get some shampoo, and make a giant sculpture with it and this peanut butter. No? Never happened to you? Well then I guess my kids are the first! It was quite impressive, but a monster pain to clean up. (Normally, I'd make them clean it themselves, but I had visions of the bubbles created by a full bottle of shampoo and thought better of it!) I sent the two older kids to their room, and let Isaiah follow me around as I cleaned. When I went upstairs 25 minutes later, I noticed something odd, almost funny, but clearly odd. A perfect little "trail" of toys, shoes, odds-and-ends, in a neat little line, leading from the front door up the stairs, to the open door of the bedroom, which was empty. I ran outside, baby on my hip, and panicked. No kids in sight. I called out their names, normally at first, but then louder, and finally yelling. Just as I was about to have an actual freak out, they appeared around the corner...two blocks up. They had packed their little suitcases, loaded them into the wagon, and decided to run away. I was simply beside myself with anxiety, scared out of my wits, and at a complete loss for what I needed to change for disciplinary action.
I've tried everything...time-outs, spankings, hot sauce on the tongue, confiscation of toys. I must point out that I am a no-holds-barred mom. When I take a toy to be thrown out...it is thrown out. A spanking is a bare butt, "spare the rod, spoil the child" sort. A time-out is sitting alone on the naughty chair being ignored completely. I'm at my wits end.
Recently I perused a book from a dear friend, Debbie, and it has been insightful. Just today, I reread Dare to Discipline by Dr James Dobson, a favorite of mine even just as a reminder that I am not an idiot, that discipline is real work. I needed to reread it this evening due to the behavior last night. After 2 hours of completely ignoring my requests for them to sleep, (some of those requests were nice, others were yelled, and everything in between) I left them alone, and sat for a half an hour reading my school books for my classes starting monday, and talked to a friend on the phone. When I went to check on the progress, I found them wide awake, and very minty. They had taken not one but FOUR tubes of toothpaste, and emptied them everywhere. The bathroom was a disaster, my bed was covered, a bucket of water was dumped on the rug in my room. It was very icky. They got the works from me. Yelling, spankings, a tablespoon of toothpaste for each of them to swallow, even a proclamation that I am not their mom anymore tonight. (I made them call me Mrs Michel and everything!) I went downstairs, waited, and listened. That seemed to hit home, as they wailed that they still wanted a mommy, and they needed someone to take care of them. After awhile, they talked, and decided that they had in fact done a very bad thing, and agreed that they should really be good. We talked about it this morning, and they have been pretty well behaved. Even still, I am exhausted. Fried out. Beaten up. Just plain beaten.
Don't get me wrong, I am certainly not alone. There are gwadzillions of other moms out there in the same boat. But at the same time, I can't speak for anyone but myself, and for me...I need to get proactive. I need to follow through on the promise I made to my shrink, and acknowledge step #1 according to Dr Dobson on how to maintain my sanity. I need to ask for help. I need to ask people who want to help me to step in and help me. Perhaps it is the desperation of last night, the thing that is making me actually agree, not just theorize about how it is a good idea, but that's cool, because my rope is fraying rapidly, and I need a break. No wait, not a break, many breaks. Dr Dobson says "#1. At least once a week the mother should go bowling, or shopping, or 'waste' an occasional afternoon. It is unhealthy for anyone to work all the time, and the entire family will profit from her recreation." My personal good ole Dr Dunlap wrote me a "prescription" for it, to hand over to my loved ones, since I feel far too guilty to come right out and ask. I've gotten gutsy enough to ask two people that I love, and both have agreed without hesitation. Even still, I hate putting people out...but not today. Today, my hands are still tingly from the menthol and I probably have fluoride poisoning from the amount of toothpaste I cleaned up. Today I have circles under my eyes, and even I can tell that I am getting sickly looking. I am stressed, and I need some help. I need a break...ASAP.
On that note...anyone want to babysit tomorrow night? (Or any night, really! That's the downside of Tommy's work schedule, I'm in school in the morning, and he leaves at 1 for work, so he does what he can) It's last minute for sure, but it would be a great gift to me this weekend in particular. Several of my old Fridays/small group/Willow girls are going for a girls only camping weekend. Cindy, Lindsey, Lisa... women who lift me with laughter. If there's anybody out there who might be willing to take the kids Saturday night, it would matter. It really would. (Oh, don't worry, the kids only like to terrorize me, everyone else is pretty safe!)
Furthermore, if the mood ever strikes, and you feel like enjoying my children, I'm humbly asking that you will. I know that admitting that I am simply not strong enough, smart enough, or cool enough to do this whole mom thing alone is a big step, a step that I know many moms aren't taking. For those moms (and you know who you are!) please call me, and know that the barter system of babysitting works wonders!
Well, it's been a half an hour since the kids went to bed...time to assess the damage...much love to y'all...
Our day starts at a decent hour, depending on the whims of the children. Typically, it's around 8 am. The tricky part is that it is a daily gamble on whether or not the children will choose to head right in to get mom and dad moving, or make a pit stop somewhere first. By pit stop, I basically mean "find something that they are forbidden to play with, and simply go to town!" Examples of previous adventures? Permanent marker all over the computer monitor, white-out everywhere (including themselves), more selections of "artwork" on the walls than I can even count, the consumption of literally pounds of candy(which was stored on top of the fridge, mind you!) I'm sure I am missing plenty (oh yes, the time they covered Maya's entire bedroom with a fine layer of baby powder, that was fun!) but you'll have to take my word for it, we've been through the ringer.
I might add that there are many "misadventures" gone on with my children that have taken place at other times of day than the wee hours of the morning, such as the day that I was in the shower, pregnant with Isaiah, and had "trapped" the children upstairs with me via baby gate. Unfortunately, I had neglected to double check that there were no safety scissors within reach (yup, not the real ones, I'm talking about the stupid round tip, don't cut anything including paper dumb ones.) Midway through my 3 minutes of (relative) peace, I heard Maya's little voice from the other side of the shower curtain. "Mommy, Denver gave me a mullet!" Slowly, I peeked out to find that he had indeed. Diligently, yet quickly, he had lopped all the hair (and only the hair) on top of her head to a half-inch length. It was awful. The only way to salvage anything was to cut all of it, her whole head to that length, and call it a pixie cut. If you have never seen it, and want a good laugh, let me show you some pictures. Trust me, Maya's head is far too round for that look!
Or recently, for example, during the 15 minute visit from our mortgage people to have some papers notarized, I sent the children to the basement playroom, and chatted with the friendly notary. I actually said the words "uh oh, it is just too quiet! I wonder what they are up to..." After the kind woman left, I wished I could have eaten my words, so badly did murphy's law bite me. It turns out they were hungry, so they saw no problems with sneaking to the kitchen to grab a bag of groceries not yet unpacked, and make a snack. I am pretty sure it has happened to all of us at one point, as we have made ourselves a peanut butter sandwich...one thought: I should get some shampoo, and make a giant sculpture with it and this peanut butter. No? Never happened to you? Well then I guess my kids are the first! It was quite impressive, but a monster pain to clean up. (Normally, I'd make them clean it themselves, but I had visions of the bubbles created by a full bottle of shampoo and thought better of it!) I sent the two older kids to their room, and let Isaiah follow me around as I cleaned. When I went upstairs 25 minutes later, I noticed something odd, almost funny, but clearly odd. A perfect little "trail" of toys, shoes, odds-and-ends, in a neat little line, leading from the front door up the stairs, to the open door of the bedroom, which was empty. I ran outside, baby on my hip, and panicked. No kids in sight. I called out their names, normally at first, but then louder, and finally yelling. Just as I was about to have an actual freak out, they appeared around the corner...two blocks up. They had packed their little suitcases, loaded them into the wagon, and decided to run away. I was simply beside myself with anxiety, scared out of my wits, and at a complete loss for what I needed to change for disciplinary action.
I've tried everything...time-outs, spankings, hot sauce on the tongue, confiscation of toys. I must point out that I am a no-holds-barred mom. When I take a toy to be thrown out...it is thrown out. A spanking is a bare butt, "spare the rod, spoil the child" sort. A time-out is sitting alone on the naughty chair being ignored completely. I'm at my wits end.
Recently I perused a book from a dear friend, Debbie, and it has been insightful. Just today, I reread Dare to Discipline by Dr James Dobson, a favorite of mine even just as a reminder that I am not an idiot, that discipline is real work. I needed to reread it this evening due to the behavior last night. After 2 hours of completely ignoring my requests for them to sleep, (some of those requests were nice, others were yelled, and everything in between) I left them alone, and sat for a half an hour reading my school books for my classes starting monday, and talked to a friend on the phone. When I went to check on the progress, I found them wide awake, and very minty. They had taken not one but FOUR tubes of toothpaste, and emptied them everywhere. The bathroom was a disaster, my bed was covered, a bucket of water was dumped on the rug in my room. It was very icky. They got the works from me. Yelling, spankings, a tablespoon of toothpaste for each of them to swallow, even a proclamation that I am not their mom anymore tonight. (I made them call me Mrs Michel and everything!) I went downstairs, waited, and listened. That seemed to hit home, as they wailed that they still wanted a mommy, and they needed someone to take care of them. After awhile, they talked, and decided that they had in fact done a very bad thing, and agreed that they should really be good. We talked about it this morning, and they have been pretty well behaved. Even still, I am exhausted. Fried out. Beaten up. Just plain beaten.
Don't get me wrong, I am certainly not alone. There are gwadzillions of other moms out there in the same boat. But at the same time, I can't speak for anyone but myself, and for me...I need to get proactive. I need to follow through on the promise I made to my shrink, and acknowledge step #1 according to Dr Dobson on how to maintain my sanity. I need to ask for help. I need to ask people who want to help me to step in and help me. Perhaps it is the desperation of last night, the thing that is making me actually agree, not just theorize about how it is a good idea, but that's cool, because my rope is fraying rapidly, and I need a break. No wait, not a break, many breaks. Dr Dobson says "#1. At least once a week the mother should go bowling, or shopping, or 'waste' an occasional afternoon. It is unhealthy for anyone to work all the time, and the entire family will profit from her recreation." My personal good ole Dr Dunlap wrote me a "prescription" for it, to hand over to my loved ones, since I feel far too guilty to come right out and ask. I've gotten gutsy enough to ask two people that I love, and both have agreed without hesitation. Even still, I hate putting people out...but not today. Today, my hands are still tingly from the menthol and I probably have fluoride poisoning from the amount of toothpaste I cleaned up. Today I have circles under my eyes, and even I can tell that I am getting sickly looking. I am stressed, and I need some help. I need a break...ASAP.
On that note...anyone want to babysit tomorrow night? (Or any night, really! That's the downside of Tommy's work schedule, I'm in school in the morning, and he leaves at 1 for work, so he does what he can) It's last minute for sure, but it would be a great gift to me this weekend in particular. Several of my old Fridays/small group/Willow girls are going for a girls only camping weekend. Cindy, Lindsey, Lisa... women who lift me with laughter. If there's anybody out there who might be willing to take the kids Saturday night, it would matter. It really would. (Oh, don't worry, the kids only like to terrorize me, everyone else is pretty safe!)
Furthermore, if the mood ever strikes, and you feel like enjoying my children, I'm humbly asking that you will. I know that admitting that I am simply not strong enough, smart enough, or cool enough to do this whole mom thing alone is a big step, a step that I know many moms aren't taking. For those moms (and you know who you are!) please call me, and know that the barter system of babysitting works wonders!
Well, it's been a half an hour since the kids went to bed...time to assess the damage...much love to y'all...
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