Minor Breakdowns, Random Lists, and Black Velvet

I feel it only fair to say that on the last day of school before Christmas Break began, I spent a solid fifteen minutes sitting in my car, in the school parking lot, crying (admittedly) a bit uncontrollably. Overwhelmed. Frustrated. Tired. Asking the Lord to change my direction or change my heart. Just throwing that out there first so when you read this feel-good, life-is-great entry that follows, you'll understand that my life, like yours, no doubt- can be quite the roller coaster. That is the reason I take the time to preserve memories like this. We all need reminders.



I am currently sitting on my front porch in 70-degree weather finishing up lesson plans and answering emails (or at least thinking about answering emails) and fully soaking up the remaining hours of what has truly been a wonderful Christmas Break. Those who know me would probably say that I say every Christmas Break is the best one ever, but this one has definitely been one for the books.

What made this particular break so incredible had everything to do with a folded-up, yellow sheet of legal paper I keep in a safe*. I've mentioned it enough that the family knows about it, and I take it out on occasion. It's a list and although I did not date it, I can guess that I must have been around twenty- maybe twenty-one, when I wrote it based on the content. The title seems a bit dramatic, but believe me, I was a bit dramatic in real life at the time.

25 Things I Want To Do Before I Die

All these years later when I look at that list, the 20-year old me makes the 48-year old me smile. I like to think that's a good thing. The top two things listed are to get married and have a baby (check and check). From there it's everything from seeing the ocean to riding a motorcycle to visiting Hawaii. As I've done things, I've marked them off with the date it was accomplished. Some things were easy to do, and some things will simply never happen. I'm okay with that. It's not a do-or-die kinda bucket list.. just the wish list of a young girl leaving her hometown for the first time. Amidst the wide variety of things written, #24 states: 

See the ballet, The Nutcracker, in a black velvet dress.

I'm not entirely sure what prompted this one. Having grown up in a small town, I suppose it sounded sophisticated and worldly and everything I aspired to be at that time. Whatever the motivation, there it sat, written in blue ink and waiting for the time it would be marked off. I know this is not a particularly hard thing to accomplish, but there rarely seems to be a time in life when money and opportunity are in the same place at the same time.

But the stars had aligned for this one.

The youngest directed me to tickets (for her and me) at a local theater for the Great Russian Nutcracker performed by the Moscow Ballet. She went on to insist that I "do it right" and found a beautiful, floor-length black velvet dress that fit me like a dream. To make it all extra special, the date of the ballet ended up being on my birthday. I spent most of that afternoon getting ready- even the husband sported a tie for the birthday dinner with the family before the performance. I seriously felt like I was going to the prom as I walked into a local restaurant while wearing what amounted to a formal dress, but I was so happy that I did not care. This was my moment and I was determined to enjoy every bit of it.

I'm a bit of a birthday diva, I suppose.

After a wonderful dinner with all the kids, our sweet girl gave up her ticket at the last minute so her beloved "pops" could escort me to the ballet. Her instructions were quite strict- he was not allowed to make fun of it in anyway- she knows her blue-collar father well, and off we went. I may or may not have panicked when I saw people walking into the theater in jeans (what kind of world is this anyway?), but with encouragement from the fella and a "who cares" text from the daughter, I proceeded to have the time of my life.

And I've had many a great time in my life.

As I sat through the Second Act, the fella staying quiet as per his instructions, my eyes filled with tears. As silly as it may sound, my life- the good and the bad, rolled through my mind as I sat there, all wrapped up in black velvet with the hand of the man I love holding mine. All I could think of was how beautiful my life has been. There have been dark days, dark years, and yes, a few dark Christmas seasons... but it may very well be those dark times that cause me to embrace the light, to cherish the good, and to hold tight to the moments that make me stand in awe. It was, indeed, an awesome moment and a wonderful memory made as I checked off #24 later that night.

I suppose the reason I write this, along with that sad disclaimer at the top, goes back to those last days spent with my father. I've often wondered how his mind processed the reality of a life approaching the final sunset. He was always one to offer advice or give an opinion, and when asked if he had had a good life (yes, we seriously had this conversation), he said the words that are forever in my ear: We've had good times and bad times, and I wouldn't trade any of it for a dime.

Well said, Dad. I won't ever forget.

The good always outweighs the bad, tears do give way to laughter, and the dreams of a 20-year old are never too far removed to be fulfilled.

I've got the picture to prove it.

*By the term safe, I am referring to a secure location used to store my sentimental stuff and not valuables that would be worth anyone's life or prison time, just so we're all clear. I'm a school teacher, remember. There are no valuables. =)

When Your Kid Buys You Dinner

It reminds you of everything that's gone RIGHT in your life.

We may never have money, but we will always be RICH.
Thanking God every day for the peace He has poured upon our household.

Our cup runneth over.

Moonflowers On My Casket*

My daughter and I had a conversation last week that carried over into a conversation I had with my mom this week. It was one if those pity party/pep talks in which you try to convince yourself that money isn't everything. Now don't get me wrong, I know money isn't everything, but I also know how easy that lie can come to rest on your shoulders if you're not careful.

No one in my family has a smartphone. It's probably not that a data plan for a family of five is totally out of the question- although I do like to eat more than ramen noodles and pork and beans on any given night. It's just something that I find totally unnecessary for our family. I gotta be honest anyway... I'm not sure I want the world at my fingertips. I like to avoid the world as much as possible, remember?

There is not a car in our driveway with under one-hundred thousand miles. In fact, one of them proudly sports over two-hundred thousand well-used miles. Sure, they're mostly missing all the bells and whistles of the newer generation. The motors are more than a little grumpy most days and the moans and groans each vehicle makes reminds me of an old man with a bad case of arthritis. Hey, at least we've got character.

Brand name clothes for us come from Target. My daughter pointed this out and I had to laugh. She's right! We've never been one to spend over forty bucks for a pair of tennis shoes (and even that's a stretch). Our kids appreciate the shopping spree of a thrift store and Christmas comes early when we shop at the mall. Sure, we appreciate the high quality of something nice, but sometimes that something nice can (and does) come right off the Walmart rack.

I've drank the ice-cold water of a spring from an old mug hanging on a tree. I've watched moonflowers open at night and breathed in their perfume. I've picked lilacs in full bloom to fill a mason jar on my table. I've seen the sun rise over the Atlantic.

I've stood on top of a mountain.
I've worked inside a mountain.
I've even slid down a mountain road (unplanned!) in the snow.

I love dirt roads and the sound of dead leaves crunching under my feet. I save letters from my grandma and notes from my mom and random scraps of paper from my dad. I cherish a letter my brother once wrote me. I really do have a list of twenty-five things to do before I die.

There are truly things that money cannot buy. There are experiences that cannot be bought on credit and memories that cannot be repossessed. Sometimes it's good to have those conversations and to remind one another that a smartphone will soon enough be outdated. New cars will eventually rust. Clothing can be as fickle as a cat in the morning.

Moonflowers, though?

Now that is something to experience.
They'll just have to bury me at night.



*For entertainment purposes only. Send me away with pink roses in the sunshine, please.

Happy Endings

So,

My phone rang this evening approximately thirty minutes after the oldest left to pick up his girlfriend for a date. Thinking that he needed to double check his directions for the place they were headed to, I prepared in my head a mental map. His opening line, however, told me this call had nothing to do with directions.

Mom, this just isn't my day.

To make a long story short and simply cut to the chase, he had lost his backpack. You see, he wears this backpack while riding his motorcycle and it's full of all things important: ipad, cool video camera, other assorted odds and ends. Apparently he had placed said backpack on top of the girlfriend's car as they got ready to leave and...

Well, you can probably finish that story.

Somewhere along the way he realized that the backpack was not in the backseat. Somewhere along the way he knew the backpack had slid off the top of the car. Somewhere along the way he began to feel very sick to his stomach.

The youngest and I made a few signs and drove the area where he thought he might have lost it. Posting flyers with turquoise thumbtacks, we searched ditches and roamed neighborhoods like some wanna-be stalkers with little luck. Defeated, we came home and had just sat down when the doorbell rang.

Yes.

A random man stood on our front porch telling a tale of a backpack he had found on the side of the road. He tracked us down thanks to an old paystub with an address. Nothing was missing. What makes this story unique (at least to me) is that the entire time we were looking for that backpack, I wanted to be the one to find it.

Me. Myself. And I.

Maybe I wanted to be a hero to my son. Maybe I wanted to show the husband that my searching was not in vain. Maybe I just needed something to brag about. None of that matters now. The Lord had a different plan and when you think about it, it was rather ingenious: a complete stranger doing what he said "was just the right thing to do."

That story is way cooler than just a mom finding her kid's backpack.



I just love a happy ending.

I Know It's Not Easter, But...

This is a testimony of new life.

Because I posted the following obituary (click on the title below to read) back in December,

The "My Laptop Is Dead" Story

I thought I would bring forth the happy resurrection tale of that same laptop.
Read on if you have nothing better to do at the moment.

Photo Taken In The Glory Days of the Laptop Computer and What Appears To Be That Darn Class On Ancient Greece

To make a long story short, my frustration over the said laptop collecting dust in the corner got the better of me one day. Since I have been collecting a paycheck for the last few months, I announced that if nothing was going to be done about fixing the blasted thing, I was marching myself down to the local store and buying myself a new one. I kid you not when I say that within the hour, tools were brought out, the laptop dusted off, and pieces and parts and wires began to be carefully removed and examined on the living room floor. A little over a week later, I have a perfectly-functioning power button and internet-accessible computer. The only serious issue came up when the oldest asked me for my password yesterday... I had to think on that one for a bit and breathed a sigh of relief when we hit it right the first time.

All is well in the techno world.

Now I think I'll head outside for the real world.

I Got It!!

Whoo-hoo! My diploma came in the mail yesterday. I giggled like a little girl when I opened the mail box, skipped (seriously) back to the house, and squealed with delight when I showed my husband. I handed it to him unopened and the look he gave me made me want to cry. He was so proud. Handing it back to me he said, "It's yours. You open it." So I did and we both just sat and admired it for quite some time. The silence was only broken when I whispered, "I wonder what that means."

Magna Cum Laude

He smiled. "I think it means you're smart."

I'm telling you, I know there might be some who are weary of hearing about this and others that wonder what the big deal is, but I can promise you this, I will celebrate this moment for the rest of my life. There are specific points throughout my time on this earth (so far) that will forever be a part of who I am:

Getting Glasses In The Fourth Grade.
Finishing A Horrible Obstacle Course In Basic Training.
Watching My Husband Get Baptized.
A Miscarriage Just Before Three Months.
Praying For My Dad Before His Heart Surgery.
Packing A Penzke Moving Truck.
Kissing My Grandma's Lifeless Body Goodbye.
Watching My Kids Get Baptized.

And yes...

Earning A College Diploma.

#8 on my list of 25 Things To Do Before I Die.

It always feels good to mark something off as done.

Chocolate Perks Me Up (with a postscript added)

Clear across the country at this very moment a ceremony is taking place. If I were there, I would be wearing a black cap and gown, a cream-colored tassel for my degree program, and a gold honor cord representing my grade point average. Instead of all that (which I would totally love), I am wearing my standard white t-shirt, stretchy pants, and random pieces of lint courtesy of the dryer. I've been fighting the pity-party invitation all day and I gotta admit, grocery shopping and laundry piles don't do much to ward off such a formidable foe.

Ho-hum.

To make myself feel better, I've done a few random job searches and verified with my university that my transcript now confirms the completed degree. I should feel pretty good, right? I do and I'm happy and all that... I am just ready for something to give. The husband is having a down day himself, looking at job sites, looking out the window, looking for anything. If we don't perk ourselves up by the time the kids get home, they are gonna be in for one depressing night. We've kept busy all week working out in the yard and sprucing up everything. I guess we've officially run out of steam.

I think I'll go bake myself a cake.

Chocolate. Hershey's Chocolate.

We'll turn this day around yet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two Hours Later.

Pssst! The cake did the trick! Is that bad? I mean, Jesus makes me happy, the cat makes me happy, writing makes me happy... but chocolate? Oh, good grief, that practically makes me deliriously happy (okay, slight exaggeration on my part). The crazy thing is that I haven't even eaten any of it yet.

The husband went to get the kids from school and they all walked in to find me licking the frosting spoon. I got teased about my apron, teased about my lack of kitchen etiquette (as in the licking part), but did I ever have a captive audience! I am satisfied enough right now to sit down with a cup of coffee while two out of three kids are enjoying their own slice of cocoa-dusted heaven.

Miracles never cease.

Happy Kids

Listening to the topics of conversation that drift from the kitchen while two kids are doing dishes make my heart sing. I'vc heard everything from Why Are You Mad At Me to The Best Place To Hide Your Cell Phone At School. They've discussed to smell of carrot cake to the most efficient way to clean a pan, and why some kids are mean to some friend that is dating a guy that is no longer dating the guy. Sometimes these conversations are more stressful to me than music to my ears; tonight has been a beautiful thing. Of course, me sitting in the recliner while somebody else cleans the kitchen is always a beautiful thing.

Another thing that made me smile? One kid asking me if they could run a load of laundry. Seriously? Do all the laundry you want. Maybe I should put off washing clothes more often. And with that, I better quit while I'm ahead. Although if you could hear one particular kid singing to the cat right now, you would laugh, too.

And yes, I know... tomorrow the chances of all three of them arguing are very high.
That's why we take the good when we can get it. I know how this plays out.

Time To Bake Those Cookies

Because great-niece number two has arrived.
I sure hope my brother has been saving for Christmas.
Two granddaughters equal lots of girly stuff to buy.
Or in his case, lots of pink tool sets and coveralls.

The news came too late in the evening to bake what is fast becoming my traditional baby cookies. I kinda like the idea myself. Of course, I'm for any idea that includes chocolate and baked goods. Tomorrow will serve the same purpose. Cookies are definitely on the agenda.

I think of my own baby girl and the day she joined us. I was wearing a red t-shirt and maternity overalls... my outfit of choice for most days of the week. That girl of mine arrived exactly thirty-six minutes after the first contraction. Maybe that explains why she's always in a hurry now.

All of my kids were in a hurry, as a matter of fact. I never had to endure long labors or horror stories. Three and a half hours, two hours and forty-four minutes, and the thirty-six minute girl. I remember the nurse who helped me with her telling me that if all of her labors were that easy, she would have had ten kids.

I laughed then. Not so much now. There are times when both my husband and myself wished we would have had more children, but thankfully that feeling has faded as time goes by and the kids we have grow. No sense re-living diapers and bottles when we're in the middle of messy rooms and too much soda.

Besides, now we get to enjoy all the joys of a baby without actually having to take them home. Like I've said before, we're watching a whole new generation emerge into an ever-changing world. And like I said yesterday, Grandma's prayer list just got one name longer. Her name is Payton.

And so tomorrow I will bake cookies in honor of Payton Faith. My own kids will devour them while I rush to stash a few behind for my husband's late night snack. We'll watch for pictures and count the days until we can see and hold her for ourselves. Christmas once again looks a little brighter.

Congratulations, Grandpa.
You better kick in some overtime.
And clear out more space in the garage.
Another race car driver has just been born.

Happy Mother's Day (no matter what the calendar says)

Where did the weekend go?

Friday night: bonfire and friends.
Saturday night: mexican dinner and friends.
Sunday night: scrapbooking and friends.

Yep. I've turned into quite the social butterfly.

Seriously, though, I think this weekend has been jam-packed with everything that keeps us busy and makes life fun... of course, the twist in all that everything was a sick kid that reminded me that moms really are needed every now and then.

And by the way, may I interrupt this moment to say how refreshing it is to finally have a child old enough to actually throw up in the toilet without you having to witness the catastrophe on the living room carpet? In fact, old enough to throw up in the toilet, clean any mess up (including themselves), and then tell you about it? I'm sorry, but that was a moment worth mentioning and remembering for me.

Anyhoo, the sickness was short-lived and the weekend continued without anymore drama.

A drama-free weekend.
And did I mention time with friends?
Even the cat has been relaxed.

Spring Break is over. The kids head back to school tomorrow and I add yet another class to my already overloaded brain. My husband casually mentioned yesterday that we are indeed having company for Easter dinner (the Easter dinner that I didn't know I was fixing) and I've been biting my tongue ever since.

So many things I could say.
So many things that I think.
So many things that really don't matter.

What does matter?

Well, the youngest just gave me my mother's day present. Why now? Because she just finished it and is absolutely, positively just like her mother when it comes to keeping a surprise. It can't be done. So she walked up to me smiling and handed me a freshly-completed scrapbook full of memories and handwritten love. I was choking back tears before I hit the third page. Good grief, what did I do to deserve her?

This is going to be one weekend that I hate to see end.

Technology and Me

I am one of those people who swear I will never cave in to any type of new-fangled gadget. No matter what comes out or how it promises to make my life easier, I convince myself that simple is better and if it ain't broke, then don't replace it.

And then I always end up getting whatever it was I swore I would never get. Examples? Cell phone. Computer. Laptop. Nook. (And by the way, this is not top-of-the-line stuff, so save your crow bars and illegal entry methods for quality that would actually be worth the jail time and bullet wounds).

The cell phone I caved in pretty easy to when I began driving a distance from home to work. Having said that, though, I am seriously considering dropping all cell phone lines and hooking my husband up with a pay-as-you-go type plan. I never go anywhere anymore, a land line with unlimited local/long distance would cut about 60% off our phone bill, and yes... my oldest kid (who has a cell) and the youngest kid (who dreams of a cell) are twitching just a bit at Mom's newest plan to interfere with their social life. The middle, thank goodness, could really care less. Now let me mess with the wireless service in the house and he would protest loudly, rest assured.

Anyway, the computer and internet are here to stay. The kids do so much homework online that the price of gas alone (if I had to shuttle them back and forth to the library) more than convinces me that is one bill worth the cost and besides, I might start twitching if I didn't have access to the blog world or facebook. The laptop was a no-brainer because it effectively stopped me from yelling at the kids to get off the computer. Some things don't require much thought no matter how much I may have thought that I didn't need them.

(Yeah. That made a lot of sense).

The nook took awhile. I love to read. I love books. I love the smell of books. I was 175% against the lame-brain who thought to take away the feel of a book in my hands. Then one day certain aspects of the e-reader began to appeal to me... books purchased in an instant no matter what time of day or night (and cheaper at that); e-books available from the library with no fines for overdue material; easy to stow (and a whole lot more lighter) in my purse... yep, the more I thought about it the more the whole idea appealed to me. I love my nook. I still pick up cheap books at sales and such, and not every book is available in the e-book format from the library, but I am absolutely positively happy with my gadget.

Ahhhh, but allow me to tell you about my latest techno-purchase that was a belated anniversary gift. It's something that I have often said was crazy and lazy and just way-too-overpriced for me to ever think about getting one... and then I tried it, fell in love with it, and had to have it.

A Keurig coffee machine.
Ready in a minute.
Instantaneous satisfaction.

And it's cheaper than my beloved Starbucks Via.
Sometimes math is a good thing.
Especially when it's at Kohl's and you have a 30% off coupon.

I think I might want an i-pod next.
But never the i-pad.
That would be just plain crazy.

Free Desserts And Wedded Bliss

I'm sitting here at three in the morning, wide awake with a glass of water at my side and the cat dutifully perched upon my lap. The house is quiet with only the occasional moans and groans of a ice-maker kicking out the ice. Not a snore to be heard. I guess all the events of the day have kept me up. We had such a good anniversary that I hate to see the day end.

Our daughter started our day off with breakfast in bed. Yeah, she's good like that. Scrambled eggs, muffins, coffee, and milk. I am soooooo glad I took the time to show her a thing or two in the kitchen (and to my grandma, who was never afraid to stand a three-year old on a stool in her own kitchen or put a quilting needle in her hand... but that's a story for another day). We went to church and as my husband and I sat there holding hands, I thought about many things.

The amazing healing process our girl went through years ago.
My husband's family and the drama they bring to our lives.
The lady in front of me who wouldn't stop flipping her hair.

(And I know I get distracted easily, but seriously... how many times can a girl flip her hair over the back of her chair? Apparently, a lot).

Afterward, we went to the mall to appease the masses (that would be the kids), shared a gyro (which the husband first fell in love with in Germany), and aimlessly wandered in and out of stores. We were shocked at the adult themes we found in one novelty store-

and a side note here, take the time to know exactly what is in your local mall. I hate the mall. I'm not a fan of mall shopping. Therefore I always take a seat at Barnes & Noble and read while my kids roam freely. Not a good idea. At least not at first. This particular "novelty"  store had adult toys, games, the whole XXX theme without the magazines and movies, all on full display. No i.d. required to walk in (nothing posted about purchasing stuff).  The place was full of kids and by kids, I mean teens that looked as young as our fourteen-year old. When we talked to the kids about later, they were all too aware of the place (except our girl, thank the Lord, but then again, she is always with me reading) and immediately looked at me shocked, "Mom, you should NOT have went in there."

What's my point? The kids knew; I didn't. Know your mall. And know how to write a respectful and yet objectionable letter to the mall owners, elected county officials, and all the local moms in your area.

-but back to my day. After the mall and the husband's discussion with the kids regarding the above-mentioned store, we went home and basically did nothing until the time came for us to go out to dinner. Alone. The best meal ever. We had the best server, the best food, the best free dessert (I'm thinking we spent so much on dinner the guy must of thought there might be something to these two random people having such a meal on a Sunday night... he wished us a Happy Anniversary with a huge piece of some chocolate brownie-mousse concoction that is currently waiting in my fridge). We sat there and ate and talked while holding hands and I thought about many things.

The heart attack my husband had our sixth year.
The Great Move of the fourteenth year.
The person sitting at the end of the table next to us wearing a graduation cap.

(Yes, again with the distractions, but watching her struggle to keep her tassel out of her pasta was a tad bit entertaining).

Then we came home to a mess. Dirty dishes piled up. Dishwasher not unloaded. I got frustrated and voiced that frustration loudly and sarcastically. The husband pulled me aside and whispered, "Eighteen years." Yep. He has a way of diffusing a situation.

So now I sit here with the clock pushing the four o'clock hour. The kitchen was cleaned long ago. The cat abandoned me to chase his tail around the living room floor.  One kid has got up and looked at me strangely, "Mom, do you KNOW what time it is?"

Why yes, oh child of mine, I know exactly what time it is. I just hate for the day to end.

Watching The Man Work

I'm sitting across the table from my husband who is working on his day job stuff and wondering about his t-shirt: i love my wife. Was that a getting-dressed-in-the-dark choice or a deliberate decision? Seeing as how eighteen years ago today we were driving seven hundred miles to my hometown to get married, I'll choose to call it a deliberate decision. Of course, that was back when we actually had money and no kids.

And I drove a Mustang. Good times.

We love to tell the story of how we met. How two people from two different states met up in yet another state is interesting enough... add into that the fact that I went through basic training with his ex-girlfriend adds another twist. And the part where I was assigned to an Air Force base that was named what my eventual married name would be? Crazy.

Oh, and he was dating the girl I was replacing at my duty station. Guess I took over in more ways than one.

Yeah, I know. It sounds kind of twisted and maybe a bit devious on my part, but rest assured, all these things came to light after the fact. I will never forget the day I was just trying to make conversation with this southern guy that I hardly liked and dropped a name or two about my early training. His jaw hit the floor and we hit it off. Thirty-some days later I asked him to marry me.

Three times.
He finally said yes.
I'm persistent like that.

And now he sits across from me scratching his head in thought while punching numbers on a calculator. We've come quite a little ways from having all that money and no kids. The Mustang only lives in pictures now while a minivan takes up space on the driveway. When we finally do have a few extra dollars to spare, the kids manage to snatch it up for annoying things like braces or doctor visits. The only thing left from our military days are plaques hanging on the wall.

So far I'm liking the life we've managed to pull out of such a short courtship.
In just a few days, we'll officially celebrate that eighteenth year with dinner out.
But I kinda like nights just like this one best.

i love my husband.

Sweet Sunshine

Today I've made two trips to Walmart, two passes through a drive-thru, one run to Lowes, and another to Starbucks. I've planted two flats of pansies, experimented with a backpack leaf blower, and raked piles and piles of pine straw. I've had sand in my eye, sand in my hair, and sand in my shoes.

It's been a pretty darn good day.

Normally I complain when I do all that running. I complain that I have too much to do and I complain about gas prices. Not today, though. I have a hamper full of laundry, dishes in the sink, and no idea what I'm going to make for supper.

I couldn't be happier.

Last night my husband asked me to go for a walk. I told him I needed to clean the kitchen. Really, he said. Clean the kitchen? What did we have kids for?

Good point. So we went for that walk, he told me a joke in the funniest accent, and I laughed so hard I barely made it up the hill. Sooo much better than dishes. I have vowed to spend more time sitting in his lap and less time worrying about the kitchen.

The birds are singing, my swing is swinging, and I'm in the middle of a really good book. The only thing that would make this day more perfect would be if my mom and dad were coming over for supper.

Of course, then I would have to leave this swing and clean and make a plan.

But don't you know I would do all that smiling, too?

Things That Make Me Smile

Waking up to thankfully discover it was only a dream.

Having kids that really want to go to school and wake up on their own.

Borrowing my son's truck for the day and having him tell me "good luck" and "be careful."

Logging on to facebook to discover a former student from long ago thanking me for teaching her the three most important ways of dealing with stress: chocolate, coffee, and the Bible.

Knowing that the day has just begun.

My Valentine Bike

I'm typically not one to get too excited over Valentine's Day. My husband and I have never really done anything special for it; after all, we're usually still paying for Christmas during this time and our anniversary is just a month away. So Valentine's Day usually comes and goes with a few hastily bought cards and a modest-size box of chocolates.

This year was a pleasant surprise and completely unexpected. Sometime last year, a certain bike caught my eye at our local Walmart. A bike that we didn't have the money for and was certainly not needed. It's not like we ride bikes a lot, but on occasion we head to the beach with a bike rack or just pick a path somewhere close to the house.

As it happened, my husband had the day off. After mysteriously disappearing for an hour or so with the boys yesterday, I was called into the living room last night. My girl said, I bet he got you that pink bike. I shrugged her off saying, That pink bike is long forgotten; besides, you know we don't really get each other stuff. So I can honestly say I was completely caught off guard.

This morning after dropping the kids off at school, we loaded up the bikes and went for a ride. I couldn't stop smiling when he told me to take it for a test drive and checked to see if the seat was all right. He couldn't stop smiling when he said the only thing missing was streamers. I have a feeling that by the time we do make it the beach, I will definitely have pink and white streamers.

The morning was beautiful and the company was even better. We took every bench we saw along the way as an opportunity to sit and talk and think. We looked on the bright side of the place in which we now live instead of looking sadly at all we left behind. We said hello to people young and old we passed along the way and wondered what the future would bring.

He laughed when I took pictures while trying to pedal, but was quick to point out this perfect shot along the way. We sat very still for a while here. It's amazing what all you can see and hear of the world when you take the time to shut the world out (if that makes any sense). It's amazing how quickly you can forget when times are bad how special the person is sitting next you.

I'm so thankful he thought I was worth the time to remind to me that life really is what we make of it. It doesn't always have to revolve around what's-for-dinner and homework and chauffeuring kids around. Sometimes it just needs to revolve around the two people that started it all. Two people and one pink bike. We just might have started a new tradition.

Don't Bring Me Down

I'm sitting here thinking about the assignments I am currently working on. I spent all of last week making and perfecting a powerpoint presentation regarding the English peasantry during the Middle Ages and let me tell you, it was perfect. I stayed faithful to the task, didn't go off track too many times, and had it all done by Friday. Along with that, I had two other papers (one I have yet to start) and as I was getting ready this evening to submit the powerpoint and a separate essay, I noticed what the project was worth.

Four points.

I thought, you have got to be kidding me. I worked hard on that. Heck, I can write a 2,000-word paper in a couple of hours and still walk away with an A (I'm not bragging here, so stay with me). That powerpoint was a pain in the backside to me. I kept losing stuff and moving things to places that I could not find. Keep in mind that it was my children who first introduced me to the concept of powerpoints. They are the ones I go to for help. I was proud that I had completed this one all on my own and yes, I did make everyone look at it whether they cared or not.

Big whoop, right?

That did bring me down a notch, though. I had to pause a moment to blog my thoughts. Afterall, are the points important or just the fact that I finished it, and finished it well. I can hear myself talking to my kids. Be proud of your work. If you did your best, who cares what it was worth. Blah, blah, blah. I sure better get those full four points.

Oh, but what a great day this has been. I am sorry to say my latest Facebook post was one of those that I usually roll my eyes at: Today has been a day that makes your heart smile. I am usually not that sappy. I'm the one who waits for it all to fall apart.

But today? Coffee. Cini-minis. Church. Lunch. Mall. Coffee. Front Porch Swing. In that order. And the fact that I even dared to include the mall testifies to the fact that it was indeed a very good day.

Even if the words four points threatened to bring it all crashing to the ground. There are worse things in life. Like an F. Now that would be sad.

I'll take those four points and be proud and happy and fulfilled and celebrate with another cup of coffee. There's not enough points in the world right now to bring me down from today. We'll hang on to it as long as we can.

Winning A Coin Toss

What's a girl to do after such a life changing event at our home?

Go to Starbucks, of course.

I've been sitting here working on school papers, listening to sometimes irritating music, and wondering about the youth of America hard at work behind the counter. And I keep pinching myself in wonderment at all that has happened.

You know, on the outside nothing has changed. I'm still waiting for that teaching position to open up. Still trying to figure out how we are going to pay for the second round of braces. Still dealing with intermittent moodiness.

But, boy, something has changed on the inside. My husband said he felt lighter yesterday; that he felt like a huge burden had been lifted. I knew exactly what he was talking about. We hauled in the trash and he took me for an ice cream. Just another Tuesday night.

And the whole time I was thinking how great life is.

We made the kids mad (or maybe just annoyed) when we shut off everything at nine o'clock last night. We had every intention of going to bed early and doing a little Bible reading together. But somehow we ended up sitting in the living room with the television off and two guitars strumming.

The oldest trying to show his dad a few tricks.
The middle presenting his viewpoint on life.
The youngest trying to stay mad but having a very hard time.

And that entire time, I was just sitting there watching it all unfold.

Once again, we announced our intentions of going to bed and wished everyone a good night and turned off all the lights and all those other end-of-the-day instructions. We put on our pj's, climbed into bed, and heard a knock at the door.

The youngest came in because it is impossible for her to stay mad.
The oldest followed because he is naturally nosy like his mom.
And the middle poked his head in to see what he was missing.

We ended up having three teenaged kids gathered around our bed. I read Ephesians 6:1 out loud just because I thought it might run them off (obey your parents and all that). Instead we listened to them tell us stories of times they got in trouble and I was given a demonstration of how I drive when I'm mad. They passed around our class rings and listened to tales of our own teenage years.

And all I could think was how blessed we are.

You know how when things are going good, you're almost holding your breath waiting for the bomb to drop? It's that this is almost too good to be true feeling? That's where I'm at. What a great place to be.

Who knows what tonight will bring. I'm only minutes away from a school car line and it's always anybody's guess how the night will unfold. The same kids we had to run off from our bedroom last night may very well want nothing to do with us tonight. It's kind of like flipping a coin: heads you win; tails you lose.

I'm just hoping to win that coin toss for a few more days.

Chinese Wisdom and Garlic Chicken

While sitting at our favorite little dive-of-a-place Chinese restarurant (the same one where the old guy wants a piece of my hair to carry around in his pocket), the little Chinese lady (not the one that thinks my husband is funny, the other one who calls me Mama and Heath Daddy) came over to our table and asked if everything was all right. Only one out of five was actually eating and two of the five were nowhere to be seen.

No. Everything was not all right.

She looked so concerned, though, so instead of giving the customary Oh, we're fine or Everything's good, I looked her straight in the eye and said Family Drama. I bet you had your own share of days like that.

She didn't smile or nod her head and hurry off to her other tables. Instead, she sighed heavily and in broken English, began to tell me her story. Moments like this I tend to memorize and although I'm sure I don't have it word for word, but I think you'll get the general idea. This is what she said.

I have only one son, not many children like you. He was ten when my husband died and it has only been me and him. We depend on each other. When my husband died, I only have my son and I not speak hardly any English when my husband died. So my son go with me everywhere and he tell me what is going on. He read the map and tell me where to drive. We lean on each other. He is thirty-six now and a good son. We lean on each other twenty-six years ago. Just my son and me. I didn't raise him; he raised me.

Then she smiled and spread her hands out over our near empty table and scarcely eaten food. What you have here is family. You have fun and you fuss, but you have family. You are good family. You fuss, but you are together. You good family. Mama and Daddy and children. Good family.

Yeah. At this point I was about to cry, too. She patted one kid on the back and went on her way. The missing two members joined us about a minute later and the entire atmosphere had been changed. I got a thumbs-up from one, and at the same time everybody started reaching for the rice and garlic chicken and saying please and thank-you. We laughed and talked and ate and read fortune cookies out loud. The fussing was over and the good was back.

She was right. We are a good family. We are together. We fight and argue and bicker, but we are together and I think after tonight and the wisdom of a little Chinese lady that calls me mama, I think we're all a little bit better.

Bragging Rights

Excuse me while I brag.
It won't take long and it will be over quick.

1. I made the dean's list. Or president's list. Whatever you want to call it, it only took me forty years to make the honor roll. Pretty exciting stuff.
2. Today is my brother's birthday. The same brother who once put duct tape in my hair and later served in the Gulf War. I think he's pretty special.
3. All of our kids were happy at the same time. The husband and I were actually able to pull off an after-school surprise pizza/movie theatre outing that pleased everyone.

Days like this don't happen very often.
How's that for short and sweet?