All I Got Is Spam

Sometimes spam makes me laugh. Not the spam in the can that always looks so lonely on the grocery store shelf (and which my husband swears is wonderful), but the spam in my comments that I occasionally get. Occasionally is the key word here; thankfully blogger does a great job of filtering through them.

Cialis. Have I not already said that you are not needed?
Online Pharmacy. I like Walgreens, I gotta say.
New Guy Wanting Me To Help Pay His Tuition Loans. Seriously?

If I'm helping anybody pay tuition loans, it will be me helping me (and I'm sorry to sound so selfish on such a beautiful memorial holiday). Believe me, I'm trying to figure out how I can get those things paid without having to actually pay them. I think it has something to do with being a family member of somebody in Congress. Okay, okay. For the record, Snopes proved this wrong. It still gets my husband fired up every time, though... makes for great dinnertime conversation. At any rate, whether it's spam in the comments or spam in the email, spam has become the new telemarketer, in my opinion. Some of it's funny; some of it's offensive; all of it is very persistent.

And if all I've got to talk about is spam... well, I'm thinking I don't have much to talk about. Besides, I've got a watermelon to cut into, burgers to make, and friends to greet. Maybe I'll enlighten them on the characteristics of spam.

Happy Memorial Day

Thanks to my grandfathers, uncles, my awesome brother,

and the rest of you out there. You know who you are.

Decoration Day: More Than A Three-Day Weekend

I've been reading about plans people have for this weekend and listening to traffic updates on the radio. It seems as if most everyone is heading to the beach or neighborhood pool or just the backyard. I have to admit that I'm planning our own little cook-out on Monday afternoon and it's guaranteed to sport red, white, and blue decorations along with burgers and watermelon (to be repeated on July 4th). I don't suppose there's ever a bad time to grill some beef and hang out with friends.

But in honor of Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day and first observed on May 30, 1868, here is one of my favorite poems and one my former students are sure to remember:

In Flanders Fields John McCrae, 1915.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.

And in case you need a little history lesson, this poem was written in 1915 after the author possibly witnessed the death of his fellow soldier and friend. This poem was thereafter often found in the pockets of soldiers and is what inspired the red poppy-pins that are sold during most Memorial Days (I'll be curious to see if anybody is at our local stores selling these pins this weekend). Anyway, it's worth taking the time to think and reflect and remember why we fly the American flag outside our home.

It really is more than burgers and watermelon and homemade ice-cream.
Not that I'm opposed to any of that. Any day is a good day to eat.
But in the midst of it all, take the time and honor those who have made it possible.

And fly your flag proudly.

Laughing While I Wait

For the record, and because I'm feeling especially generous right now, my husband rarely fails in making me feel better. I can have a rough day, be utterly discouraged, and he can brush it all away with a So? Just do it this way. I can be so worked up about things and he can be so laid back about everything. Sometimes it's a good fit and sometimes it drives me crazy; but tonight, it was a very good thing.

It all goes back to me still not having a job and still being in school. I was hoping to finish by this December; it's now looking like it may be to my benefit to finish four months later (in April 2012). On the plus side, I could not be so rushed and push off those student loans a few extra months. I'm obviously not working anywhere anytime soon. On the downside, I really just want to be done. He's got his eye set on a master's for me. Heck, I think he dreams of a doctorate. He really is all about me.

I get so stressed about not working and not bringing in extra income. My heart cried out to the Lord today because I know that I have so much to offer. Do you get that this is not pride here? I know how He has made me. I know when He is smiling on me. I'm telling you people... I love to teach! And write! And talk! Good grief, just give me a classroom with bored stares and heavy sighs. I'll have them singing prepositions and identifying presidents and doing the diagram dance within a matter of weeks. I'm crazy enough to love that stuff.

And yet I wait.
But we were here earlier today.
I promise I won't go back.

My husband. Next to the Lord and my mom and dad, he is my biggest fan. You know, he rarely reads this blog. He just never thinks about it really, but when he does, he always says that same thing. That's really good. A meal hardly ever goes by that he doesn't tell the kids, Boy, your mom can really cook. And most nights when he comes home? The house sure looks nice. Look, I've never claimed to be all about women's rights. I like being a wife. I like being a mom. I find much joy in shiny floors and folded underwear.

Boring? Maybe.
Lonely? Never.
Depressed for long?

Not a chance.

Yep. I had a rough day. Kind of emotional. Up and down. Bills discourage me. Knowing I've been passed over for a job I really wanted? Major bummer. College courses not following my plan only add to my pain. Then again, I could possibly be graduating a month before our oldest graduates high school and I gotta tell you, that kinda made me smile.

I wonder if he'll pose with me in graduation caps?

God has a plan.
My husband makes me laugh.
The kids forgot to do the dishes.

It'll all work out in the end.

So I Wait Some More

How do you handle disappointment?

I tend to cry, pray, and clean. In that order. And I know I should pray first. I'm just telling you, tears come easy to me when no one is looking. So I cry, then I pray. I clean the house. I think outside. And then I have a total meltdown by the washing machine.

The Lord knows me so well. He knows exactly how the whole process will play out. And He knows just when to pat me on the back and tell me everything will be all right. Has He ever let me down? Can't say that He ever has.

The waiting is the hardest part.

Somebody's Whistling At Me

And so it's been another day of watching internet weather and calling family members. May has turned out to be one eventful month. Facebook actually came in handy today as I was able to talk with some others back home before I actually got a hold of my mom. At last check, she was still waiting for word from her sister. As for our weather? Another day of near 100s and just plain yucky outside. I'm praying our complaining fuel pump doesn't leave me stranded somewhere on the hot asphalt. My live-in mechanic has promised to remedy the situation this weekend.

On the plus side, my husband (and the same live-in mechanic) got a good report from his doctor today. Turns out meds for high blood pressure and over-the-top cholesterol are a good thing (inside joke here). That man has been a walking heart attack (okay, maybe not that extreme) since he had one when he was twenty-eight. His heart may be in good shape for now, but his blood pressure and such has always been on the high side, especially here lately. Six months ago his health insurance provider basically said, Get this under control or watch your rates go up. He may not listen to me and my pleas for his good health, but he understands the concept of pay more quite well. To celebrate the good news (along with losing five pounds), he had pizza and soda for lunch. Ha!

Speaking of which, my cell should be whistling any moment now for his daily on his way home phone call. That sound is the highlight of my day (okay... most days). Funny, though, how all the tragedy playing out on an almost  daily basis makes you appreciate the little things all the more.

And there's that whistle now. =)

Smartphone Karaoke

Last night my husband took me out for a little impromptu alone time (alone being defined as lack of kids). We had already ate a sloppy-joe supper at home, so he whipped the car into a Mexican place where you can sit outside and watch a little karaoke action six nights a week. We got something to drink, a free basket of chips, and settled in for an hour or two of cheap entertainment. We were not disappointed.

A looooong table of at least twenty-five people were celebrating a birthday or graduation or something. The more they drank, the louder they got. My husband and I, being the kind of wild couple that we are, were calculating how much (in dollars) of tequila they were drinking and how many bills that might pay. We watched as a young girl got up and did a Miley Cyrus impersonation (not my daughter, my husband stated) and when the DJ put on a little Vanilla Ice, the whole place exploded. Suddenly about twenty people of probably three nationalities were up on their feet. Even my husband got a little excited. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. My response? You're on your own there, buddy. At any rate, it was a lot of fun, we spent a total of $5.19, and were home to the kiddos by ten.

But this is what caught my eye about the whole evening. I think you'll recognize it if you pay any attention at all to the twenty-first century. In the midst of the Miley Cyrus and Vanilla Ice and Wannabe Cowboys was the ever-present, never-fading smartphone glow. People sitting together, sometimes not even talking, but constantly zipping through screen after screen of whatever it was they were looking at on their phones. Now don't get me wrong, sometimes my husband and I have smartphone envy. Our phones know only how to make calls and send and receive occasional texts. Our budget is tight enough without adding all the bells and whistles, but as I sat there watching, I couldn't help but wonder how much life these people were missing out on.

Are you a smartphone user? Or maybe the proper term I'm going for here is smartphone addict. Can you do everything you can do on those and still interact with the people around you? I'm sincerely curious here. Not just at this restaurant, but practically everywhere you go you see this phenomenon taking place. I see kids standing in groups outside at school with every head looking down at a screen. I've witnessed kids at the playground sitting (still) on a swing or perched at the top (not moving) on a slide with that twisted neck-look. Heck, I've complained before about adults that block the grocery store aisle or hold up a green light because their attention is all focused down instead of around. Even while the whole Vanilla Ice dance was going on, there were some who could not, would not surrender their phone.

And let me tell you, trying to keep a beat while simultaneously facebooking or tweeting or whatever it was they were doing makes for some serious entertainment. I can honestly say that was the best five bucks we've spent in a long time. I may not understand it all, but a good laugh certainly can drown out the worries. I guess until I get my own smartphone to entertain myself, this is as good as it gets.

But that's all right with me.
I really enjoy people too much.
Even if I wouldn't dance to Vanilla Ice.

There Is No *R* In WASH

Waking up to see a devastated portion of your home state on the national news is not a great way to start of the week. My parents were talking about the horrendous storms rolling through yesterday evening; seeing pictures of destroyed lives quickly quiets any lingering complaints from yesterday afternoon. And thinking of my brother, his daughter, and grandbaby travelling through that same area earlier in the day? Yikes. Do we have any idea how quickly our lives could change?

I'm proud to be from where I am from. When I first moved away and began teaching, I had a whole lot of kids making fun of how I talk (and this is in the South, mind you... yeah, I see the irony in that, too). I don't know if you would say I'm from hillbilly country or the redneck woods, I just know that I was twenty-one before I ever ate Chinese food or realized that a R was not part of the word wash. Travel time to any hospital or institutes of higher education require a good forty-five minutes and the dodging of various horse-and-buggies and/or the Amish on a bike. Tractors? Well, you might as well expect to get caught behind one of those. You definitely don't get anywhere very fast. Most people wave (and it's not the one-finger wave either). It's just the laid-back version of any small town life.

The opening of Wal-Mart was a big deal.
And then came McDonald's and Hardee's and Sonic.
Not to mention the installation of the first and only stoplight.

Yep, it was a good place to grow up and raise our kids for the first half of their young life. Hardee's is no more, but not much else has changed. It will always be one of my favorite places to visit and a very big part of who I am now. You see, I still don't get in much of a hurry. While driving the kids to school this morning, a lady was determined to beat me off the light at the interstate ramp. I let her (I'm pretty sure my mini-van could have taken her, just so we're clear). As my dad says, you eventually catch up with them at the next light anyway. No sense burning that expensive gas needlessly. Oh, I have my moments as my kids would be quick to point out, but I usually end up feeling foolish and wondering why I felt the need to prove the motor under my hood. Those times, thankfully, are few and far between.

I'll tell you, though, watching these weather reports makes you wonder when your area might be next. It's almost becoming not a matter of if, but just a question of when. Like I said, it definitely puts my sniveling from yesterday into perspective... no matter how my husband interprets the calendar. To all my family and friends in the Midwest, keep your eye on the sky today. Have a plan of action ready.

Memorize Psalm 91.

You could always move south, you know.
My front porch rocking chairs face the west.
We could watch the clouds roll in, drink sweet tea, and pray.

I'm all for having company.

(Let's Not Give This One A Title)

Today I woke up in time to get ready for church.
And decided I wasn't going.
Then thought I probably should.
And later regretted it.

It has just been one of those days.

The weather is hot. My mood is swinging. I'm thirsty at the moment, but have no desire to make yet another pitcher of sweet tea. Pictures of graduating seniors belonging to people I graduated with have been filling my facebook newsfeed. I'm happy for them; unfortunately, it all makes me feel old and I've grown weary of the smiling faces.

The grumpy dwarf?
Maybe, but stick around.
Chances are I'll be happy by the time this is finished.
A small chance, mind you, but it's still there.

I think all that nonsense about the end of the world yesterday has kinda zapped me. Sometimes I think, No, no... not yet, and then other times I think, NOW would be good. We watched the latest Chronicles of Narnia release last night and I actually sat on the couch fighting back tears. I mean, seriously, to stand on the outskirts of heaven? How could anybody want to return? I know, I know... there's purpose and all that, but good golly, that was a beautiful moment.

And for the record, I didn't think the world was going to end yesterday. I don't want anybody thinking that I'm all depressed cause I'm still here or anything like that. I think most of us understand the Bible is pretty clear on the subject of His return... I just feel kinda blah today, and for no good reason. My husband will look at the calendar with a knowing look in his eyes. Whatever. Sometimes he's just too observant.

I do want to thank everyone that reads these rambles from time to time. I get the nicest comments from people all across the country and around the world. (Do you sense the mood change here?) There's a whole community of people that I never knew existed. We write about everyday stuff... sometimes it's deep and meaningful, and sometimes it's not; but the one common theme that always rings true is it's all about life:

Gardening. Shopping. Kids. Spouses.
Nice grocery store clerks. Not-so-nice grocery store clerks.
Weather. Politics. Idiot drivers.
Jobs. School. Broken down cars.

Which reminds me, our fuel pump is making that annoying buzzing sound again. We've got a braces payment due in two weeks along with the electric and car and insurance and whatever else might creep up. And the job I've been waiting to hear about? Well, I'm still waiting. Lucky for me, though, I can take a hint. Mama didn't raise no fool.

And I think we're back to being grumpy.
Or maybe just happy.
Grumpy-Happy.
Cause you might as well laugh.

The joy of the Lord is my strength. (Nehemiah 8:10)

Of course, a Starbucks probably wouldn't hurt either.

I mean, surely the Lord would delight in a caramel macchiato.

And I bet He wouldn't order the skinny version either.

He's my kind of KING.

Do you see why I didn't give this one a title? It was all over the place.

My apologies. Just say a prayer for my family, okay?

I'm sure they would appreciate it. :)

Weather Watching And Glowing Hardwood

As if I needed a reminder that distance between family members stinks, I got one tonight. Googling weather information while checking a cell phone fifty thousand times does not make for a peaceful evening. I told my husband this is exactly why we all need to be in one central location. His response was only to indicate that if that was the case, we would all go together. At least I wouldn't have to wonder and wait.

Other than that, it's been a relatively calm day. I've had things on my mind which can only result in one thing: a very clean house. Not a speck of laundry (okay, maybe a stray sock or two... or seven, but hey, you can actually see the bottom of the laundry basket). The hardwood floors practically glow, the toilets have been scrubbed, and I even dusted the ceiling fans. Yep. When this mind gets troubled, the house definitely benefits.

School work? Well, I'm not that desperate for distraction. It will get done when it always gets done... sometime around late Sunday evening. Six elective courses left. I'm taking fun stuff like constitutional law and homeland security. Yeah, I know... my mind is a little twisted in terms of what I label fun. What can I say? There has got to be a reason why HE has wired me the way He has... I just keep waiting to see what that reason might be.

And if nothing else?
Well, I make a darn good housewife.
And I'm not afraid to admit it.

Did I mention my hardwood floors glow?

The Ugly Truth: Part 2

I tried and tried to get this video to link up yesterday. No such luck. Today the virtual world seems to be cooperating. I just happen to like this song and the smiling faces in this particular youtube version makes me smile, too. It's always good to remember that we all have struggles. My mom reminded me of that just this morning. Sometimes we get so caught up in us that we forget about the rest of the world. Or maybe that's just me. Anyway, if you missed the first part of this from yesterday, backtrack here. But fair warning, sometimes the truth ain't pretty.

The Ugly Truth

My husband did the nicest thing for me last night and it has nothing to do with flowers or cleaning or kisses or chocolate (although I'm a big fan of all four of those). After repeatedly asking me what was wrong and what was bothering me and why I was so acting the way I was... I finally told him and let me assure you, it was not a pretty sight.

I got pretty angry.
I really let him have it.
And it had nothing to do with him.

Or maybe it did.

The emotions of a woman. Poor, poor man. We stood outside in the drizzling cool of the night and he listened while I recapped every person and every moment in my life that has ever let me down. I stopped beating around the bush and trying to protect his feelings and trying to hide mine. I admitted things to him that I have never confessed out loud (and remember, we're talking feelings here; not criminal acts). I tried to put into words the utter despair that I feel at times is so anchored within me... so lodged in tight, so stuck... that sometimes I feel dead on the inside.

(How's this for truth?)

He said two things to me. First, he talked about my grandma and how better things felt when she was around. Well, that's a no-brainer. That little woman was a mighty prayer warrior. Sitting with her could be like sitting with Jesus, snapping green beans and all.

Secondly, he said one simple word to me: resentment. When he said that, I felt the breath go out of me. I stumbled over a few words and tried to make excuses and said something like, Oh no, that's not me, but I went to bed with that word on my mind and woke up with it still there.

resent: verb. To take ill; to consider as an injury or affront.

Sometimes facing the truth about ourselves is a very tough pill to swallow. The truth does indeed hurt. He wasn't trying to hurt me, though. He listened and he waited and then he simply pointed out what he was hearing. He didn't accuse me of whining. He didn't blow me off. He wants me to happy.

And the word happy is nowhere in that definition.

I could keep going, but sometimes I sense the Lord controlling the backspace button. Not everything needs to be expressed. For some reason, this did. Maybe it was so I can see the truth before me. Maybe it's so you can know you're not alone. Maybe somebody needed to witness the many flaws in my character.

Only He knows.

Thank you, Lord, for my husband.

And for truth, no matter how ugly it can be.

I'm not where I should be, but I'm not where I was either.

We'll call that progress and move on with the rest of the day.

Birthday Recap

Alarm goes off.
Coffee is made.
Cards are opened.

Church is attended.
Lunch is ate.
Mall is conquered.

Friends are dropped off.
Husband wants to shop more.
Birthday boy sticks with the parents.

Husband spends money.
Wife wants to cry.
The bakery is visited.

Cinnamon rolls are made.
Laundry gets started.
Pizza is ordered.

Author whines to her mom.
Fifteen candles are counted out.
Oldest kid takes a picture.

Happy Birthday to the middle.
I know you're in there, I just can't see you.
You made a very busy day very much worth it.

Hidden Notes

It has been one long week. I know my husband's week long absence is nothing compared to what some wives endure, but then again, there's a reason we both decided waaaay back that the military lifestyle was not for us. There's a reason my husband works a desk job that he's not crazy about just so he can be home every night and weekend. He's never missed a birthday. Never missed an anniversary. Never even missed a holiday (unless you count the few times he's been on call or something like that). I guess the point is, he's just as crazy about us as we are about him. Living below the national poverty level and surviving on one income can leave us lacking for many things (I dream about satellite television, for instance), but we know where our wealth lies.

We tucked this note deep inside his suitcase when he left last Sunday. It was the first thing he pulled out while unpacking yesterday. Oh, we have our moments, that's for sure. Sometimes things click, and sometimes they don't. Some days I couldn't be happier, and some days I think I could. I suppose that's what we call life. I just wanted to share this, I guess. In a day where families are stressed and husbands and wives are challenged to stay together, it takes a little effort by everyone to keep the boat afloat. Okay... sometimes alot of effort, but I'm assuming you get my point. My husband is a good man. And I don't care how old our kids get, I think it's good that they remind him of that, too.

Even in something as simple as a little corny note hidden away between t-shirts and socks. He said it made his day. And he made our day by making his way back home. Our table is full again.

Sifting Through The Stuff

For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand [anywhere else];

 I would rather be a doorkeeper

and stand at the threshold in the house of my God

 than to dwell [at ease] in the tents of wickedness.

   For the Lord God is a Sun and Shield;

 the Lord bestows [present] grace and favor

 and [future] glory (honor, splendor, and heavenly bliss)!

 No good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly.

Psalm 84:10-11, Amplified



Thank goodness for good friends.

I have a good, good friend almost nine hundred miles away. We met in the summer of 2001 when we were gearing up to kick off a brand new school year at a brand new school. Dare I say it was friendship at first sight? Not everything in life comes that easy.

I woke up this morning in a not-so-good mood. I definitely was not thinking about the goodness of the Lord or His mercy or future heavenly bliss. I was thinking that my head hurt and I did not want to face the day and I certainly did not want to drive kids to school. With two sick kids anyway (yes, we've went from the one sick kid yesterday to now two... just in case you're keeping track). But anyway, I was thinking What's the point of just taking one kid to school? We'll all just stay home so I can rest my aching head.

Except that one (not sick) kid loves school. To her, missing a day for no good reason would be one of the top five worst things that could ever happen to her. She wants to do well. She wants to be a teacher (be still my beating heart). One of the top five worst things I could do to her as a mom would be to make her stay home. So we went to school and I stopped to get gas which required a little shuffling of the funds so nothing would bounce. Just another day in our economic life.

Before I had even had my first cup of coffee, my dad called. He was talking about his weekend (birthday on Saturday) and he made a comment about Mother's Day. It was a sad, sad day. Now he didn't go into details, but I'm not entirely slow on most things: neither one of my parents have a mother still living. I bet that was a sad day. Stuff like that tends to put most things in perspective for me.

Back to my good, good friend, though. I fired up the computer this morning to see the above scripture she had posted (verse 10). I skimmed over it at first, but couldn't get the words out of my head. I broke out my handy-dandy, duct-taped Bible and read it a fourth or fifth time. At some point, the fog of self-pity that I woke up to began to clear.

One day with Him would be better than anything else.

Even if I was the door person.

It makes my heart smile just thinking about it.

All this other stuff is just, well... stuff.

stuff: noun. Refuse or worthless matter; nonsense.

That kind of puts things in perspective, too, doesn't it?

And it all makes me think of a song.

Thank you, Sharon, for being my good, good friend.

And for reminding me every day of the God we serve.



Miracle Monday

I read a random comment earlier (totally unrelated to this blog) about today being dubbed Miracle Monday. I think I'll take that and run with it. After all, this could be the day, right?

I've got one kid that's sick (or possible just extremely tired... haven't figured that one out yet). Another kid has a broken or cracked or chipped tooth (the nice dental assistant lady was adamant I pick one of those when I called for an appointment). Thankfully the third kid is just... well, looking rather cool today. He's got style.

Four papers to write this week.
Something is smelly in the laundry.
And I think the cat is lonely.

There's flooding along the Mississippi.
Are fires still burning in Texas?
And I'm still waiting for gas prices to drop.

I think we could all use a little miracle in our Monday.

I'll Apologize In Advance

This is going to be a random rant of the things that get on my nerves. I'm sorry, but it's got to be done. I have a very nice evening planned and I worry that if I don't vent at this very moment, I might not make for pleasant conversation later. I promise that this won't get nasty or rude (much), but if you want to move on at this point for more pleasant things to consider, please feel free. I'll never know.

I saw a kid at Walmart today wearing a t-shirt that proudly proclaimed, Blame It On My Parents. I didn't know who I wanted to shake more~ the kid who will no doubt blame it on his parents, or the parents that let him wear that shirt to begin with.

In another aisle, I couldn't get through. A minimum of four people were arguing in something other than English while another bystander talked on the phone about something that had nothing to do with the forty different jars of spaghetti sauce she was examining. On the way out, a small toddler was clutching a cart while stomping her feet and crying loudly while the lady with her carried on her own conversation on the phone.

Just another Saturday at an overly crowded neighborhood Walmart.
I know better than to get out on a day like today.
Maybe I'm just mad at myself.

I'm also growing weary of Facebook. Well, maybe not so much Facebook, but just the never ending abundance of personal information that some people think everybody in their virtual world needs to know. Am I going too far here? Sometimes I literally wait for someone to update their status with the announcement that they are entering the bathroom. And then maybe update what they did in there. Lord help us all if they decide to tag a picture of that one.

And yes, I will post this to Facebook like I always do on the premise that my mom is my biggest fan. And no, I won't deactivate my Facebook account, although if I trim my friend list any more, it will be down to my immediate family of four (the husband avoids any kind of social network like the plague) and my mom and brother. And probably my friend down the street and a few from back home. That would leave me with a total of ten friends and a whole lot of what's the point in this? I guess I'll leave things alone and just continue to sort through the stuff of everybody's everyday life. On the plus side, I might have an idea who follows me through Facebook if my friend list started decreasing on its own.

Of course, that would be sad, too.
Now I have guilt.
Maybe I should blame it on my parents.

Acting Like My Father

We've got a busy weekend coming up. Well, it's a weekend full of important days, that is. Sunday, of course, is Mother's Day. I have no idea what anyone has planned; I just know I've got to get my own call in to my mom that morning. One of these days my brother and I are going to work it out and surprise her by being home at the same time (and I'm not talking Christmas either). I got to thinking that this is the fourth mom's day I haven't been around to share it with her.

I won't think about that right now.
I'll think about that tomorrow.

Tomorrow really is another day. It's my dad's birthday. I was going to write something about him on here to try to express what a great dad he is to me, but then I thought I've probably already told you all about him:


How he kept me from getting off a train.

How he calls me (almost) every day.

How cool he was when he was young.


In fact, my dad and my mom are weaved into practically every story I write. They are me. And to prove this point, Dad will appreciate this...

This morning in the car, I felt like I was talking to myself. I would comment on something... traffic, trees, dog in the road... didn't matter what it was, I got zero responses. So I sighed heavily and said,

"Self, how are you doing today?"
"Not too bad, Self. You got anything planned?"
"Just the usual stuff, Self. Running kids around."

This went on for a good five minutes. I still heard no commentary from the peanut gallery (although I do think I caught a certain female rolling her eyes). Oh well. As I've heard it said many times before, Whatever. I was entertaining myself and acting just like my dad. I think when I pick them up today I'll start singing about toilet paper.


Happy (Early) Birthday, Dad.

When I grow up, I wanna be just like you.

Tony's Journey: Volume Six

I was asked the other day how my brother is doing.

Very well, thank you.

I happen to think he is making pretty good progress. Although I don't think I've got the energy to search for pictures tonight (and I know that's his favorite part), here's an update on how he's doing. If it's been too long or if you're new to the game, backtrack here to catch up on why we're going down this road anyway.


April 7, 2011
Well yesterday was my 6 week check up since the surgery, Doc said blood work all looked good, Except my protein count was to low. Wanted me to either drink 1 extra protein shake a day or eat at least 5 times a day. I weighed in at 327 start at 391 so 64 pounds in 54 days. He said I am on track to loss a total of 190 pounds by end of Sept. We shall see if it keeps coming off. I sure hope it does.


April 18, 2011
Well it has been 56 days since my surgery. And all is going well, I am back to eating real food. That is a big plus, but I just don't eat as much of it. Dr wants me to eat 5 times a day, I am lucky to get 2-3 times a day. So my weight is now 319 started at 391 that is 72 pounds total.


April 24, 2011
‎63 days after surgery, weighed in at 315, lost a total of 76 pounds. Best thing yet, I went and bought 2 new pairs of jeans, I was in a tight size 50 and I mean tight like the kind where you lay on the bed to try and get them buttoned up. I now wear a loose size 46 probably could have bought a size 44. Shirts was tight 4XL to a loose 3XL.


April 29, 2011
Well for those that care and haven't grown tired of my weight loss. I am now down to 311, that makes a total of 80 pounds. It has been 69 days since my surgery and everything has been going great. I have my eye's set on that 100 pound mark. I tell myself I am going to shoot for 225 and see how things are. that will be 166 pounds lost, that is more than most of you weigh. LOL


And this last part has absolutely nothing to do with his weight loss, but it just makes me laugh.

April 19, 2011
Things I love about my job: 1. Young kids that think they know everything there is to know about how to do sheetmetal work. 2. Young kids that stick their foot so far down their throat they have to scratch their BUTT to tie their shoe laces. 3. The expression on their face when I tell them I have been doing this type of work longer than they have been alive. Kids I swear. LOL Ok, off my soap box.


I have the best brother ever.

Quiet Times

I'm sitting with the oldest in a very quiet house. It's always quiet around here anyway during the day, but it's nice to have someone to share that quiet with. Today's the last early out day of the school year. It's hard to believe next year will be the boy's last year of high school. He caught a ride home with a friend and I couldn't help but think two things:  1). How trustworthy he is; and 2). How much I'm gonna miss him. We'll save that last thought, though, for the day when he actually does move on.

Our family certainly is changing and growing. Even supper around the table has changed. Oh, we're all still there, but I can see us transforming from a family with little kids to a family of adults. I know, I know. We've got a ways to go yet and I've never been a promoter of making kids grow up fast, but one thing is for sure... we've done our job well in raising independent people who aren't afraid to share their opinion. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes it makes for awkward dinnertime conversations. I've said it before and I'll say it again, there's never a dull moment.

And so life moves on a steady pace. There's always trouble on the national level and sometimes there's trouble on the home level. There's always a gas tank that needs to be filled and sometimes there's a bill that just can't be paid. We just move on one day at a time, appreciating the quiet times as they come.

Speaking of which, it's time for me to go get the other two.
My quiet time is about to end.

Everybody's Got An Opinion

About the weather.
About the price of gas.
About Osama bin Laden.

Was it really him?
Will there be an act of revenge?
What's up with the president?

Is it all about ratings and polls and who gets the credit?
How about we just remember why we were looking for bin Laden anyway.

Virginia Jablonski, age 49.

World Trade Center, 94th floor

David Kovalcin, age 42.

Flight 11

Mark McGinly, age 26.

World Trade Center, 92nd floor

Michael Mullan, age 34

Ladder Company 12

I could keep going.

There's at least 2,821 more names to add.

I'm guessing you get the general idea, though.

You did catch that total, right?

2,825

Dead.

Murdered.

Never coming home.

Was that really Osama bin Laden's body they dumped in the ocean?

Time will tell.

Are we in danger of a terrorist act of revenge?
I wouldn't be surprised.

Was it all our president's doing?

Absolutely not.

But then again, it's not about any of that, is it?

If you need a reminder, check out Portraits 9/11/01

It's a very thick book about a whole lot of people.

And by the way, the weather has been crazy.
Gas prices are too high.
Osama bin Laden was a very troubled man.

I think we should be careful what we celebrate.
And that's my opinion.