Twilight WHYlight

Wikipedia Photo

I like to read. A lot. Mostly I like to read historical non-fiction and political thrillers, but every now and then I need a break from having to think too much and revert to what I like to call fluff. This summer, that fluff consisted of the Twilight Series (excuse me, Twilight Saga) that was all the rage a few years back. Even though I finished the final book a few weeks ago, it's taken me some time to wrap my mind around it.

Although I still don't quite understand the draw that claimed millions of fans (I'm assuming the numbers here), I can finally understand the fascination with all the vampire paraphernalia that was marketed toward young girls (and their mothers). If you can get past the whole sinking your teeth into living flesh and an insatiable thirst for blood, the vampire lifestyle might not be a bad way to go.*  I mean, the end of the series presents the perfect picture of the perfect immortal family.** Of course, there is no clear-cut resolution as to whether or not a vampire actually has a soul and where that soul might reside when death does occur (by tearing the vampire apart and burning the body pieces, in case you were curious), but hey... to a young girl dreaming of true love and a happily ever after, a vampire with golden eyes, skin that sparkles, and will power made of steel (it does you no good if he kills you by mistake)... well, maybe love can be found in the craziest of places.

Yeah. That's a stretch, I know.

The short story is that I read the books because my daughter had watched a few of the movies a while back. We read the books together and talked about the content along the way. As much as I found the whole concept exasperating- as a mother, I do not appreciate any kind of love story that makes life appear not worth living if teenage romance is not realized- even so, I was hooked by the end of the first book. I wanted to see what would happen in the next one and the one after that. When it was all said and done, though, I would have rather spent that money on a two-week pedicure, a large hazelnut latte, and a triple chocolate brownie. Of course, the conversations I had with my girl because of the series... well, now that kinda makes it all worth it. Anything to reinforce a few key concepts of life and love:

God has that perfect someone for you,
And he will most likely have a beating heart.


*   Please tell me you recognize the sarcasm here.
** I'll take Jesus, His gift of eternal life, and an imperfect family.

Getting Lucky

Have I done something right when I wake up to an empty house on a Sunday? Or am I just plain lucky? The husband left in the pre-dawn hours to go to work, but I should have been peeking in on three kids sleeping in three beds. Not so. Apparently I slept a little late this morning because all I awoke to was three empty beds and not a note in sight. Good thing I know where they're at.

They're all at church. On their own accord. While their mother sits here shamelessly in her pajamas sipping coffee. So like I said... have I done something right, or am I just lucky?

Either way I will take it.
And get ready myself.

I don't want to push that luck.

We May Need That Ark

I was standing at the front door looking outside and thinking what will make some people in other parts of the country cringe. Everything is so green here. By this time of the year, the grass (if you can call it that) usually crunches under our feet and the trees look hopelessly withered. We don't water with sprinklers and typically, by now, I have even given up on flowers in my pots. Not so this year. The flowers are still blooming with no help from me. It almost looks like we have an actual lawn. Even the fountains have not required extra water from the hose.

All this thanks to rain.

Constant rain. Almost every-other-day rain. Rain that is flooding the streets and causing havoc on some homes. Rain that makes the outdoor working people have to stay inside. Rain that makes the indoor staying people want to actually go somewhere. Rain that lulls the cats into a stupefied slumber as they watch the water run off the roof.

Or maybe that is me.

I am fighting the urge to join my husband in a pre-noon nap. Not that I'm opposed to napping, but I'm one of those people that this kinda weather drives out of the house. I have an un-natural urge to go to the mall. Maybe eat a gyro. Possibly roam a used bookstore while sipping an overpriced coffee. This is when I wish I had some of those cute rainboots with a jacket and hat to match. I would so be one of those people.

Good grief, it is pouring. It's been like this about all summer. Sure, we've had the heat and the humidity and all other things southern, but I'm not finding much to complain about this year. Let it rain.

Meanwhile, I may have changed my mind.
A nap before lunch? There are worse things in life.

I Miss My Grandma

With yesterday being the birthday of the youngest, I spent a somewhat sappy afternoon watching home movies dating back to 1998. I don't know that the kids were all that into my spontaneous trip down memory lane, but it continued well into the night with the only break being a birthday supper at Cracker Barrel and a lengthy walk through Walmart. The clock was approaching the eleven o'clock hour when I began to pick up clues from the husband that it was time to call it a night. We went to bed, but the memories didn't stop as we both talked about how much our family has grown.

We were young, skinny, and looked good back then,
the husband remarked. What happened?

What happened? I joked. Those kids were what happened.

Good point, he said before he went to sleep.

While he softly (?) snored, I thought about what really bothered me regarding all those videos. It wasn't so much the passing of time... watching all that was a good reminder of how tired I always was with three kids ages five and under. And sure, I was a lot thinner then, but personally I think I look more healthy now with a little extra padding to the face and other places (hey, don't deny me that lie). I'll tell you, what bothered me the most was that nearly not enough camera time was given to a little old lady who made brief appearances every now and then, and I was almost always the one behind the camera.

Forget the baby! I kept screaming in my head yesterday.
Focus on Grandma.

Enough of the baby crawling already, I would think.
Isn't that Grandma on the couch?

You see, I didn't realize then what I know all too well now, and that realization forced to me acknowledge a cold, hard truth that has stayed hidden within the rusty files of my mind for almost five years now. It seems so silly to say it out loud because we all understand the cycle of life, but say it I must:

I really didn't think she would ever die.

Where Did I Put Those Candles?

Tomorrow our little girl turns fourteen.
Our baby. The youngest. The last one to come aboard.

I was thinking about her last night. It took exactly thirty-six minutes for her to make her entrance into this world. That should've been a sign. She's never been one to delay what needs to be done. She gets that from my grandma. She can cook, sew, and organize just like my mom. She reads constantly, is a good writer, and wants to be a social studies teacher. I suppose she gets that from me. She's got big plans and more ambition than she realizes. She's her dad all over again.

She is something else.

I was reminiscing out loud yesterday about those early days when we first brought her home and the middle visibly cringed. He knew what I was going to say before I ever said it. How protective her brothers were! The oldest, around four at the time, came to me and asked if the middle- who would have been two, was suppose to be in their baby sister's bed. In I went and there they both were... her, just weeks old and sound asleep and him, one of her big brothers, carefully keeping watch at the other end of the crib. Anywhere that baby went, they were sure to follow. That relationship may not be as obvious now, but I can assure you it's very much alive.

We knew she was going to be our last. I made it a point then to try my best not to rush the years. I hope I didn't complain too much about the bottles and diapers and toys scattered everywhere, but knowing me, I'm sure I did more often than not. Even now I look around and see stray charger cords and crumpled pop tart wrappers and random plastic lids missing from random plastic bottles. As long as there are kids in the house, they are going to make their presence known. My mom has reminded me not to rush this part either. She says once they move on, the home is never quite the same. I'm gonna trust her judgment on that one even as I look forward to evenings that don't combine the smell of tuna fish sandwiches and microwaved popcorn.

That is a smell I will not miss.
That and hair in the sink and snide remarks made through closed doors.

But the sight of the three of them together?
Now that's a sight that never gets old...
No matter how many birthdays we celebrate.

No wonder my mom likes those family pictures so much.

My Toilet Seat Has A Crack In It

I mean... technically that's true, but it really has no relevance to what's on my mind. I just think that any entry, or book for that matter, is all about the title. It's what grabs our attention. Some of my blog entries have really great content (says me), but very little indicators that it's been read a lot. Others contain meaningless dribble and have huge readership numbers (again by my standards).

Trust me. I'm bigger in my own head than in the virtual world.

At any rate, I think it all goes back to the title. What grabbed your attention to read this anyway? Maybe your own toilet seat has a crack in it and so you felt empathy for me. Maybe you wondered why I would advertise such personal information and thus your curiosity was peaked. Maybe you think I can't afford a new toilet seat and your response is one of pity. Whatever the reason, it got you here.

And now that you're here, let's think about titles.
If your life had a title, what would it say?

Pity Party Crashers
Heartbreak At The ATM
Only My Earrings Are The Same Size

Kinda makes me think of epitaphs... like how a title might be the opener for your life and the epitaph a closer. The tombstone of my parents (who are still living, by the way) reads "Color Me Gone." Granted, this was my dad's idea and also depicts an engraving of a race car, but it does speak volumes in a way. Now that I think about it, I think her side features the praying hands. Yes, I do see the humor in that.

I've been thinking a lot about my own life lately and if I am really living it to its fullest potential. It's no secret that I don't entirely agree with how things are working out, but does that give me any right to dismiss what the Lord has given me? And if I were to fully embrace what He has given me, would I suddenly find a joy that I didn't think was possible in something that was not my idea?

These are the things I think about...
When I'm not thinking about that toilet seat.

Does The Mom Definition Include The Word RELAX?

Well, we got the youngest registered for her first year of high school, the middle all set for his junior year, and the mother has so far remained in one piece. Going to a small high school like I did (maybe 60-something in a graduating class), the size of the kids' school still manages to freak me out a little. The lockers number up into the thousands and the hallways remind me of a coastal southern town... apparently everything is set up in squares. The middle assures the youngest that she'll figure it all out in a matter of days, and the youngest assures me that I am more nervous than she is.

She's probably got a point.

It does seem kind of weird not involving the oldest in the back-to-school plans. The other night he took the other two for a ride and ice cream and as the front door shut on a quiet house, the husband asked, "Is this what we have to look forward to? What in the world are we going to do with ourselves?" He went back to the computer and I went back to my book. I'm guessing we'll keep doing what we always do. About an hour after the kids left, a storm began to blow in and I began to pace faster than the wind. I sat on the front porch watching the pine trees sway and wondered where in the world those kids were. The rain fizzled out and in they came. The husband's words? "Now mama can relax."

No rest for the weary.

And yesterday a tiddly piece of news drifted my way. On the scale of bigger things happening in the world, this would be considered nothing more than a speck of dust in the midst of the Sahara, but in my little corner of the universe, it was as ear-splitting as the proverbial clanging cymbal. I was reminded that God does indeed have a plan and that His plan makes a whole lot more sense than mine. If I would have had my way a few months back, then somebody else would have missed out. It just made me think of how much easier things would be if we all sought to stay within His plan. Of course, who am I to talk... I have enough trouble keeping my own feet planted.

Yep. It's been quite the week and it's only Wednesday.

Good things are on the way. =)