My Gas Tank Is Happy

The air is practically chilly outside... kinda weird considering it's the end of June and triple-digit temps are on the way. For now, though, I have half the windows flung open and cool breezes streaming in. Anything to air out the house and give the a/c a break.

Speaking of the a/c, our electric bill has gone up.  Thanks to the handy-dandy online electric usage tracker that our provider provides (chuckle), I've compared our current usage to this time last year and can see no changes on our part. It's the cost of electricity that has gone up according to the handy-dandy pie chart and that handy-dandy pie chart shows an increase per kilowatt hour of twenty-three percent. Good grief. I'm going to have to be more diligent about unplugging things that are not in use (groan from the children). One more thing for me to add onto the mom patrol hour.

Gas in our neck of the woods was at an astounding low of $2.84 yesterday. Funny how that actually feels like we're getting a break. It sure helps with me feeling not so guilty about driving here or there. The middle has some longboarding plans for today and I really have no good reason not to drive him where he needs (or wants) to be. There's a bookstore nearby and a coffee shop conveniently located right inside... a perfect place to kill a couple of hours. He's happy. I'm happy. The gas tank is happy.

Wow.
Cool breezes.
Happy thoughts.

If it wasn't for that darn electric company increasing their profits,
this could almost be a perfect day.

Alopecia Areata: Faith, Hair, and A Girl (#3)

After reading my last blog entry about my daughter and her hair, my mom said she was going to send me her most memorable memory (that's a mouthful) of that particular period in time. I looked and looked to find a picture of the youngest in the exact scarf my mom mentions, but the only one we could find featured not only a clear shot of the scarf, but also a nice, clear shot of blue teeth... thanks to what must have been some kind of blue candy. Being the girl that she is, the daughter said, "Thanks, but no thanks" to sharing it. Like I said back in the beginning of this series, we really don't have a lot of pictures from that time. I honestly thought I had more than I actually do... I guess the camera was the farthest thing from any of our minds back then.

It's funny because as much as I wanted to share this, I am finding I have a hard time not only reading what she and my mom have written, but also trying to put into words my own feelings about the whole ordeal. I was the one who rocked her while she cried and cried and her dad and brothers looked on helpless. I was the one who found her on more than one morning crying angry tears when she would stand before a mirror and no new hair was in sight. I was the one who kept a number of CDs about healing going in her room at all times (at her request) when there were moments I wanted to toss them all out the window.

Yes, indeed. The Lord had a lesson for us all in this.

And for the record, we did thank God everyday that the girl did not have anything terminally wrong with her. She was not sick; she was healthy. The frustration, though, at watching your young daughter go bald for no apparent reason... well, I suppose that's part of my problem in trying to find the right words. She's not the only one out there who has been in this particular fight, that's why we wanted to share it and I'm gonna be honest with you, I think it's always in the back of our minds.

But anyway.
Enough about that.
Moving forward.

Granny's Memory

(my mom and grandmother of the youngest)

I wish I could remember the date, but I don't.  I think that girl spent every Friday night with us for as long as I can remember, then it became Friday and Saturday nights.  The boys would usually join in on the Saturday nights.  They knew Granny would get them McDonalds for supper and Pa would go for chocolate milk and donuts the next morning.  One particular Friday night she was over and it was when she was losing her hair pretty bad, the poor little thing had so many bald spots on her little head.  She always wore a scarf or sometimes a hat, mostly scarves.  I begin to notice she was wearing the same scarf all the time, she never changed it…never took that scarf off, even would sleep in it.  This particular night she had taken a bubble bath. I told her she did not have to wear that scarf around her Pa and I.  I had told her that many times, but this night she sat in the middle of our bed after her bath and said, “Granny, sit down here, I have something to tell you.”  I sat down not having any idea what she wanted to talk about. 

 She said, “Granny you see this scarf, Mrs. R. (her 2nd grade teacher) took this scarf all the way to Oklahoma so they could pray over it. Granny, God reached down from heaven and laid his hand on this very scarf. Isn't that something Granny? God touched my scarf. I knew that God was going to heal me and give my hair back to me.  So you see Granny that is why I leave this scarf on all the time because God touched it and I will be healed.” 

Out of the mouths of babes.

Those are her words not mine. I can still see her sitting in our bed cross legged telling me this.  I remember her being out and the wind blowing her scarf up and exposing her hair and people looking, but they didn't know what was going on, that is just human nature to stare. She had faith and she knew God was going to take care of her.  I think that is when I learned what faith was all about. Your Granny loves you.

Alopecia Areata: Faith, Hair, and A Girl (#2)

I asked. She delivered. It's funny how she remembers things that I don't. She told me I could add the ending, but I honestly have nothing more to say to her final statement. Thanks for sharing, Daughter.

Oh, and if you missed the opener to this particular theme, you might want to back up and read it first: Part One

From {The Daughter's} Point of View: How the Story Began

First off I apologize for my writing skills.  This is why I would like to be a Social Studies teacher- not an English one.

When I was five years old, I remember going to the doctor because I had lost an eyebrow.  I had on a yellow sundress with veggie tales on it. (Larry the Cucumber anyone?)   I received a shot, and “tada!” my eyebrow grew back.  For a few years, everything was fine.  One night I was at my grandparents’ house sitting on the armchair by my Granny.  She noticed I had bald spots on my head and I was sent across the room to my mother for her to have a look.  We went to the doctor and discovered that I had alopecia areata.  I didn’t know what that word meant.  Too complicated.  Many things were tried.  Pills, special conditioner………..? Needless to say nothing worked.  Every day I wore a scarf on my head to cover the spots.  One day I got sick of hiding it.  I got up in front of my 1^st and 2^nd grade class with my teacher and told them.  All the kids gathered around me, laid hands and prayed.  That summer I went to camp; I did not enjoy it that year.  At one point, I was out in the lake canoeing with a friend, my scarf had fallen off and I saw people pointing and laughing.  Maybe I was paranoid and thought they were laughing at my hair, I’m not sure.  I do know that no pills, conditioner, or anything else helped me.  It was praying.  I have all my hair now, but I could wake up one morning and lose it again.  I suppose it’s all up to God.  

Daughter Approved Picture of That Time In Her Life

OMG!!! You're Not Going To Believe This!!!

And so it would seem that I have to yet another fork in the road.  I'm asking all you prayer warriors out there to pray for direction and the way the Lord would lead.

I wrote the above words on Saturday as a facebook status. I kind of go in phases with facebook; sometimes I update a lot, sometimes I update hardly ever. I’m not the kind of status person that hopes to get a zillion and one comments wondering if I am okay.

Example:

If that ever happens again, I think I might die!!!

Great news today!!!

OMG!!! You’ll never guess what’s going on!!!

And so forth and on and on. If you’re not on facebook, you have no idea what I am talking about. If you are a frequent flyer, than you know all too well (and sorry in advance if one of the above is your most recent post. I promise I have not even been on there yet today except to copy and paste the opening statement, but... I do confess to shamelessly using the title of this post to grab your attention).

Anyway.

There are times when I reach out in the few ways I know how for some extra support. I’ve been struggling with some stuff… you name it… job searches, money woes, and general why am I even here type stuff. Depending on what day you catch me, I might be full of hope and cleaning supplies or full of despair and used kleenexes.

I came to that fork in the road last week. It was as clear before me just as if I was standing in the middle of a backwoods dusty road. I needed to make a decision or my indecision was going to drown me standing up. You ever been there? It’s an uncomfortable place to be. I would rather be moving in a solid direction than willingly give into the quicksand that threatens to squeeze the life out of me.

So I asked for prayer. I prayed. God moved. Well, technically, He moved me. No lightning bolts. No thunderous voice. Just a gentle, gentle push in my spirit that said, “This way.” So that way I went. I still don’t have a clue what lies along this way. Maybe it’s about a job. Maybe it’s about obedience. Maybe it’s about being prepared. I just hope it includes some kind of income.

Hey, I’m about as real as you can get.

After making my beginning steps this morning, I sat down to again search the scriptures. I wanted to find something that expressed how I am feeling; to be assured that I am not the only one with these up-and-down emotions. This chapter about said it all. I especially like how it came from David when he was hiding out in a cave.

Jesus. Son of David. Have mercy on me.

Psalm 142 Amplified Bible

A skillful song, or a didactic or reflective poem, of David;

 when he was in the cave. A Prayer.

¹ I cry to the Lord with my voice; with my voice to the Lord do I make supplication.

² I pour out my complaint before Him; I tell before Him my trouble.

³ When my spirit was overwhelmed and fainted [throwing all its weight] upon me, then You knew my path. In the way where I walk they have hidden a snare for me.

⁴ Look on the right hand [the point of attack] and see; for there is no man who knows me [to appear for me]. Refuge has failed me and I have no way to flee; no man cares for my life or my welfare.

⁵ I cried to You, O Lord; I said, You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.

⁶ Attend to my loud cry, for I am brought very low; deliver me from my persecutors, for they are stronger than I.

⁷ Bring my life out of prison, that I may confess, praise, and give thanks to Your name; the righteous will surround me and crown themselves because of me, for You will deal bountifully with me.

Dear Dad,

This is probably one of my favorite pictures of you and me. For the first time in my life, I was finally on my own and working a real job and having to take care of my car myself. I was miles and miles and hours and hours away from home and feeling rather grown up.

But, boy, was I ever glad to see you.

I think you have been there for every big event in my life. I don't remember the early years so much, but I know you were always there cheering me on at ballgames and letting the coaches know when they led me astray. You watched me graduate from high school after spending all those years circling my grades with your ink pen and lecturing me on life. You visited me in basic training and managed not to laugh too hard at those awful glasses Uncle Sam made me wear. 

You walked me down the aisle.

There are times when I wonder why we have the struggles we do in this life. Sometimes it feels that life is so unfair, that other people will always have more, and that I'll never know what debt-free feels like. But then I take moments like this and think about all that I do have and suddenly I feel like I am the luckiest girl in the world, that I have more than other people dream about, and that the feeling of debt-free could never compare with the feeling of being loved.

I would be wanting if it were not for my parents.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Tony and I don't exaggerate anything when we tell you how much you mean to us. I know you have your own struggles, but never doubt the kind of father you have been and still are today.

You are loved.

Send Me A Postcard

I read other bloggers' posts and look at other facebookers' pictures and think to myself,  "Wow. I am doing absolutely nothing."

I've been fighting the urge to hit the road and take a long trip to nowhere. Somehow I think miles and miles of interstate and a few Cracker Barrels along the way would clear my head. Then I think about my checkbook and gas tank and wonder if I would be better off staying put, so put I am staying... at least for another week.

In the meantime, I'll live my summer through the rest of you.

Keep traveling. =)

Proverbs 19:21

Just a brief update in case there is that ONE person out there who has been desperately waiting to see how the job interview went, it went GREAT. There were jokes about CONTRACTS and helping me move my STUFF  in and even a grand TOUR of the place.

But.

That stupid, stupid word.

It evidently did not go that well. I got the "thanks, but no thanks" phone call the next day. I cried. The daughter worried. My dad called more than once. It's been a few days. I can talk about it now. Life goes on.

God has a plan.

Many are the plans in a person's heart,
but it is the Lord's PURPOSE that prevails.
Proverbs 19:21

²¹ 

Somebody Out There Must Have Prayed...

Cause I have a job interview this afternoon.

It's the first I've had since... since...    I can't even remember.

Keep praying. =)

It's Cryin' Time Again (My Laptop Is Broken)

Things are back to normal around here and I gotta tell you, normal isn't so great. The parents left yesterday morning, the oldest went to work, the middle slept till noon, the youngest broke out her sewing machine, the husband went back to the job search, and I went back to laundry. Well, I take that back (about the normal not being great part)... we're all here and well. I'd say normal is pretty good.

We had the BEST time last week. I think I had a headache from Wednesday through Sunday, but it was well worth it. My mom attributed it to the stress of everything and I suppose she might have been right. It certainly was a whirlwind. I guess that's the end of my SENIOR YEAR posts, at least for another year. I expect the next few years to fly by now as the other two make their way forward. My mom remarked that I now only have kids in high school. Sheesh. Now that's hard to believe.

The oldest was surprised by what all he received as graduation gifts. When he thanked his great-grandma, he said, "I think I should graduate every year." Ha! I've got a stack of thank you cards for him to write and informed him last night that there would be no weekend plans until they were finished. He gladly replied, "Not a problem." I was surprised by a few graduation gifts sent my way as well. It's always good to feel loved.

And so life goes on. The middle goes camping with his youth group next week and the youngest was invited to spend a week at the beach with one of her BFFs. I've got a couple of teaching applications in place that I'm hoping to hear something on and just found out yesterday that I'll begin training as a volunteer docent (fancy word for tour guide) at our local history museum. At this point, anything would be a good start. Even the husband has expanded his job search to a two-hour radius from where we live. I don't blame him one bit. We'll cross that bridge if we come to it.

The point of too much personal information?

If you're a praying person, PRAY.
If you're a positive thinking person, THINK POSITIVELY.

And if you know how to fix an almost three-year old Gateway laptop in which the power button (built in to the hinged part) has went kaput, feel free to let me know.

Oh, and if your mom lives close by, go give her a hug.

 I miss mine already. =)

Why Moms Cry

Well, I held it together just fine yesterday until sometime approaching the midnight hour. The husband and I were talking about the day, he got up to do something, and when he came back he looked at me with an expression of sincere concern.

"Are you all right? Are you sick? Did I say something wrong?"
"Nope," was all I could come up with, "just a little choked up, I guess."

I was thinking about those last thirteen years of school (gotta count kindergarten, you know!). The first time we took him to school to meet his teacher. The first time I saw that little head looking out the school bus window. The first time I gave him a detention.

Ha! Didn't expect that last one, did you? I was his fourth grade teacher at the time and that particular year is full of great memories and some rough ones. In fact, I taught all my kids for at least one year (the middle was lucky enough to have me for three... yikes!). It isn't easy being mama and teacher, but that's another story.

Back to the oldest, though, school -the academic part, anyway- has never been his thing. He's had some ups and downs and close calls, but you never knew a kid with a better attitude (and you could ask anyone who knows him to confirm that). He got a little nervous towards the end of this year and stated what has become my all-time favorite line(s):

"I am learning what regret is like. If I would have known how this would feel now [waiting on a particular final grade], I would have tried a lot harder in the beginning."

He did it, though. He buckled down and pulled through and walked a stage yesterday. He told me he came across one teacher who had helped him a lot this year and said, "Mr. B seemed really glad to see me graduate." The oldest shook the man's hand and thanked him because that's the kind of kid he is...

But he's not a kid anymore, is he?

He's a high school graduate who bought himself an ipad with his graduation money and shortly thereafter had his first minor fender-bender on the way home. That was a first for me, too. When the phone rang and the first word I heard was a distressed sounding "Mom?" ... well, it's no wonder yesterday was a toil-on-the-emotions kinda day.

And why I was little choked up by the time my head hit the pillow.

Very, VERY proud of you, son.