Making My Heart Laugh

A few days ago, the middle went to our state's capital city and visited an attraction or two. While looking at some pictures from his fun-filled day, one in particular caught my eye. He was standing by his girlfriend on the capitol steps smiling proudly. No doubt it was because she was beside him and not the geographical location of where he was at... unlike me, that boy cares little for history. That photo, though, took me back in time and prompted me to share one of my favorite pictures with you.

Three kids. One very long field trip to another state capitol years ago. If you know my family at all, then you know this moment captured in time speaks volumes of truth. One will play nice. One will fake nice. And one will let you know how he really feels.

You know what?

 I wouldn't change a thing.

Not My Plan

(This post was originally written yesterday morning and saved as a draft

 so I could have time to think... never a bad idea on my part.)

Last night I lay in bed and contemplated giving it all up. Packing it in. Enough's enough. I am tired of opportunity ringing and doors slamming shut. It seems like I catch a glimpse of something that looks promising only to get smacked in the face with the sharp sting of reality.

Such is life.

This morning I decided I needed coffee first. I cannot seriously ponder the slow demise of my dreams on zero caffeine. Now, one cup later, I am forcing myself to take stock of what I do have. I'd go down the list, but it wouldn't be anything that we all wouldn't recognize. We know we've got it good.

As for me, I'll snap out of it. My heart knows this particular ache of disappointment well. Thank God my spirit knows the promise of hope. You want to know the irony of all this? My husband is officially back on a payroll. That's right. One year and exactly one day after learning he no longer had a steady paycheck, he now does.

And you're thinking,
Is this woman ever happy?
Yeah. Even I don't get me.

Except if it helps make sense of all this nonsense, then let me say this,

For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts. (from Isaiah 55).

Okay. So technically I didn't say that, but you get the idea. I thought I was working it out, but once again, He proved to me that I am not the one in charge here. I suppose when you look at it that way, I am in pretty good hands. That helps ease my hurt ego.

Sheesh. One of these days I am going to learn to keep my apron on and stop chasing after jobs nine hundred miles away. Home for me will always be where my mom is, but home for my family will always be where I am. Such is the role of the mother.

I'm gonna go do some housework.
Maybe bake something. Definitely more coffee.
There is reason to celebrate. Enough gloom, right?

It never was my plan to begin with.

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

So that was yesterday. This is today. I was much too busy for my pity party to continue. Besides, my daughter accused me of being selfish. Whatever. I made dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and tackled laundry. The husband hugged me and said he appreciates everything I do.

Flattery is a welcome thing around here.

Winding Down

Well, this past week we had a chance to put miles of pavement on our odometer and cross more than a few state lines in the process. We traded triple-digit heat for triple-digit heat, scoped out a few houses for sale, spent quality time with family and friends, and fixed a flat. Not bad for a whirlwind of a week.

I always dread the drive back and the world to which that takes us. It's nice to be in the place I think we should have never left to begin with, but that's an old story. We had a nice break anyway. This trip was a little bit different because the oldest was not with us. He's a working man, you know.

I guess I don't have any room to complain. The fellowship was great. The food was fantastic. The coffee reigned supreme (a plug for THE best coffee shop east or west of the Mississippi). I do feel recharged and ready to go back and face whatever may come. Besides, there might be something brewing.

In the meantime, I'll go back to doing what I do best.

Holding the fort together.
Reading way too much.
And taking up space in the shade.

At least I got that road trip out of my system.

Teenage Daughters

My daughter and I debating the appropriate length of a skirt...

I 

Absolutely

Positively

LOVE THAT GIRL.

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