Noms Volume 1

I'm happy to report that I am succeeding in my new job as domestic engineer.  I can't say that all of the toys are kept picked up off of the floor since I have a toddler who likes to get five toys out of the box for every two that I put away but I do, however, have a home-cooked meal fixed for my  little family most nights of the week.  I thought I'd share two of my most requested recipes.  I plan to add recipes every now and then to this blog when I cook something that's rather phenomenal and worth passing along.

Spaghetti Sauce from a Restaurant Back Home that Shall Not be Named

2 lbs ground sirloin (uncooked)

1 15 oz can tomato sauce

2 sm. can tomato paste

2 cups water

1/2 c vegetable oil

1 TBSP Vinegar

1 TBSP Minced Onion

1 tsp Garlic Powder

1 tsp black pepper

1/4 cup sugar

3 TBSP chili powder

1 tsp salt

2 Bay Leaves

Combine all ingredients in a large pot.  Cook uncovered on med-low heat for 2 hours. Stir often.

Chicken Cordon Bleu

4 Chicken Breast halves (pounded to about 1/2 inch thick)

1 Egg

Dash of Half n Half

Dash of Pepper

Cooked Ham (I buy Virginia Baked ham from the deli sliced medium)

6 Slices Swiss Cheese

1/2 cup breadcrumbs

Preheat oven to 350 and spray a casserole dish with non-stick spray. 

Combine egg, half & half and pepper in a bowl.  Dip the chicken in the egg mixture to coat.  

Spread your breadcrumbs onto a plate and lay your chicken on the crumbs. Top the chicken with a slice of ham and a slice of swiss cheese.  Roll up the chicken, ham and cheese and secure with a toothpick.  Top the chicken with another half slice of swiss cheese.  Bake for 45-50 minutes or until chicken is no longer pink and the juices run clear.  

No Soliciting

We need a no soliciting sign in our front yard.  Seriously, someone stops by here several times a week trying to install us new windows, clean our gutters or preach to us.  Most recently, I had a nerdy, twenty-something guy stop by here trying to sell me some $80 cleaner for my front door.  First of all...80 dollars, are you kidding me?  Secondly, his technique was all wrong.  I don't care how cute your accent is or that yes, your cleaner really works so well that's it's taking the paint right off of my front door, I'm not going to pay $80 for it.  Honestly, I'm not even going to pay $20 for it.
And I'm certainly not going to buy it with this technique. Here was our dialogue:
  20-something boy: "Ma'am, this cleaner also takes care of odors.  Now, I've got a really good sense of smell and there is definitely something foul I'm smelling around your home."  Me:  "First of all, I'm not buying your cleaner.  Secondly, you are smelling something foul.  We just laid new mulch and what you're smelling is sh*t.  And I can guarantee you that you aren't going to be selling a lot of your $80 cleaner by telling people their home smells foul."  Needless to say, he left promptly and took his cleaner to strip the paint off of someone else's front door.

Where Did It Go?

Holy Cow!  Has it really been three months since I've posted a blog?  Where does time go?
I wondered the same question a few weeks ago when we celebrated Emme's 2nd birthday.  I can't believe she's two already.  It's hard to believe that two years ago she came into this world two months too early and weighed in at only a few ounces over three pounds.  I look at her now and it's hard to remember that she was able to wear her Daddy's wedding band on her wrist at one time.

Anyway, her second birthday party took a lot of planning but wow...it was great.  We couldn't have asked for better weather and really...we have the BEST family and friends ever.  We had over SIXTY people come over to celebrate with us!  So many times that day, I looked around at everyone and thought to myself how good God has been to us to put such wonderful people in our lives.
We had a Sesame Street theme since Emme loves Elmo so much.  There were tons of balloons  and Sesame Street decor everywhere you looked.

We have also started a chili cook-off tradition in addition to Emme's birthday festivities.  This year, we had thirteen entries of chili and had everyone cast their ballot for their favorite.  This year's winner was Greg's sister, Jenny who brought a yummy white chicken chili.  Second runner up was last year's first place winner and our friend, Dolores.

On Emme's actual birthday this year (which was on a Wednesday) we had a small celebration with just the three of us.  We gave Emme her presents and enjoyed a small cake.  She was so excited about her cake.  She could hardly wait to get the lid off of it and see the candles lit.

That little girl's smile is the light of my life.  She amazes me constantly with how smart she is and I am so curious to see how much more she learns this year. Blessed....I'm really, really blessed.

Abundance

"I want to have friends that I can trust.  That love me for the man I've become not the man that I was." --The Avett Brothers

How many friendships have you had that have stood the test of time?  The real frienships...the ones that are solid?  For me, I can honestly say that I have quality over quantity.  I don't have a ton of close friends or people I can count on for nearly anything but those friends that I do have love me with abundance.  This is what I found out recently when I seen my prayers were answered a long time ago without me even taking the time to realize it. 

I have old friends.  I consider old friends to be those that have known me ten or more years.  These old friends of mine have had disagreements with me.  They've seen me at my worst.  They've told me when I'm wrong and I've been mad at them for it (who really wants to hear the truth?  After all, it hurts sometimes.)  But these old friends of mine keep loving me no matter what faults I may have or what burdens I may carry with me. They laugh with me.  We have inside jokes.  We have memories that will never be forgotten. We often say "remember when?"  I see my own self when I look at these friends sometimes.

I have friends who live different lifestyles than my own.  I envy them sometimes.  They seem so carefree and like they are holding the world in the palm of their hands.  Anything is within reach to them because they have no ties to bind them.  They pick themselves up and travel to new adventures and new territory often.  They are free spirited. They appear perpetually happy.  I envision them as being the girl with the hula hoop dancing by herself in the middle of a field, not caring who is watching or being the guy at the concert making friends with whoever happens to be standing next to him.  I see my own self  when I look at these friends sometimes.

I have friends who are much older than myself.  They have a listening ear when I need one.  They are the ones who can cheer me on but know that I'll have to make my own mistakes and learn from them just as they did at one time.  They are settled and happy.  They've been wild and now they just want to relax. They are the friends I like to sit with and discuss politics and the wrongs and rights of the world.  We talk about religion and our purpose.  I see my own self when I look at these friends sometimes.

I have new friends.  These are the friends that don't know the ins and outs of me yet.  They have no idea what kind of inner beauty I hold.  They don't know that I get my feelings hurt easily, that I'll rarely speak up when somethings bothering me but instead let it boil inside and eventually simmer away, that I strive for perfection in my life but in reality will probably never get there and that I just long to be the girl that people want to be around.  These new friends are willing to get to know the ins and outs and I'm willing to let them.  They are eager to share their lives with me as I am with them.  I see myself when I look at them sometimes.

Several months ago, I began feeling lonely.  I started praying almost nightly for God to send an abundance of friends into my life.  Did I think He was just going to have people start knocking on my door offering friendship to me?  I kept praying.  In the meantime, I lost my job.  I've kept in touch with people who I was close to and in some ways, not seeing these friends on a daily basis has somehow brought us closer.  When we talk, we talk about meaningful things. We are eager to get together when our busy schedules allow it.  I also joined a church.  People that I don't even know pray with me and pray for me now.  I don't know them well, but I know that I can't sit next to someone in bible study every Sunday and not make friends.  Eventually, I expect that I will have close friends through church.  I joined a Mommies Group.  The purpose initially was for me to have a place for Emme to make friends.  She has but so have I.  I have met some wonderful new friends and I know that we will continue to form closer relationships.  And....I still have those old friends that I first mentioned.  I'm reaching out to them more.  I'm trying to be more conscious of realizing that they want to feel cherished and needed, just as I do.  I'm trying to be the friend that I want others to be to me.

God answered my prayers but I had to be proactive.  I had to want something bad enough.  I had to take the time to think about and be grateful for the friends I already had.  I never needed to replace anyone...I just needed to reach out more.  And since doing so, I have an abundance of love and friendship in my life.

Bedazzled!

So, my girl got bedazzled today.  Emme got pierced this evening and she is so very proud of her "new" ears.  She keeps looking into the mirror every little bit to admire her beauty (and the little pink ice studs.)  I have a girly girl on my hands, that's for sure.
Not only did she want earrings (yes, really my 1 1/2 year old WANTED earrings..she's been asking for them for awhile now) but she also wakes up every morning with the first word out of her mouth for the day being "bow."  She wipes her sleepy eyes with one hand and points to her hair bows hanging off of her curtain with the other.  Before she's even had breakfast she has a bow in her hair and shoes on her feet. Most days she can also be seen wearing her beloved rhinestone rimmed ga-ga's (glasses) too.

Southern Ohio

Recently, I went back home for a visit and as always, I came to appreciate so many things that I used to take for granted.  It's amazing to take notice of things that you miss without having even known that you were missing anything at all. 
The majority of what I miss is the people.  I miss my family but I'm grateful for how easy it is to pick right back up where I last left off.  I showed up at my Aunt Sharon's house unannounced and was immediately welcomed in and felt sad when it was time for me to leave.  I sat at the kitchen table in my Aunt Diana's house, drinking coffee and remembering all of the fun times I had when I was growing up with my cousin Angie.  Now, she and I have little girls of our own.  I stayed one night with my Aunt Donna and Uncle Lee and loved looking at old pictures with them and waking up to breakfast fixed for us by my uncle.  The other two nights, I spent at my Dad's house and slept so soundly because for some reason, things always seem so peaceful and easy when I'm there.  I also visited my Uncle Mike who I haven't seen in several years (and I have vowed to myself to not let that much time pass again without seeing him)  I visited his house for the very first time ever and even though the electric was out because of a huge storm that had passed through, we sat at his kitchen table and talked for nearly two hours as his house grew darker with the sun going down.  I spent time visiting my Dad's sisters and was glad to see them and especially my Aunt Rita who recently lost the love of her life after his battle with cancer.  I was glad to see that she is coping (although she still has days that are hard) but she's making plans for her life going forward and knows deep inside that there are many more good times coming in her future.
I spent time with my friend Courtney who I have had a million more ups than downs with and who I always can tell my deepest secrets to.  She listened to me while we had Giovanni's pizza (yet another thing I love about Southern Ohio) and as always, I immediately felt better after having a girlfriend to confide in.
And then there are things about home that aren't necessarily the people I love but the circumstances and things I failed to really appreciate before I moved. For example, the prettiest day lilies grow wild alongside Little Ice Creek.  I never cared to pay attention to them before but now I see how the burst of orange color adds a bit of happiness alongside the creek that so many people have taken for granted and thrown their trash into. 
I also noticed all of the strangers that throw their hand up to wave at me as I drove down County Road 19.  For every single house that I passed where someone was standing outside, someone waved.  Why are people in the city too busy to do this?  It made me feel good and I felt like if my car broke down right that minute, there were going to be some really good people who would take the time to help me.
And lastly, while I'm talking about the kindness of strangers, I will tell one last story of my last visit to Ohio.  As I was leaving my Aunt and Uncle's house, I came upon a little cemetery on the left hand side of the road.  I hadn't visited this cemetery in probably 15 years or more but for some reason, I felt the need to stop and visit my grandmother's grave.  Having not been there in so long, I wasn't exactly sure where her grave was actually located.  I knew it was quite a ways back from the road but as I searched and searched, with my little toddler riding on my hip I began to give up.   As I started to walk back to my car, there were two gravediggers working who stopped what they were doing and watched me.  Instinct should have told me to be nervous because here I was out in the middle of nowhere with my little girl and two strange men in a quiet cemetery but instead I felt really calm.  One of them asked if there was someone I was looking for.  I told him my grandmothers name and then the two of them stopped working and walked along the cemetery with me until we found her headstone.  If this had happened in any other town, I might have been afraid but there's something about home that is so familiar to me that even strangers don't feel like strangers. 
While Louisville is now my new home, I know that  I will continue to make visits back to my first home and with each visit, I'll continue to recognize things that make me proud of where I came from.

MaMaw Corns

I've been thinking a lot about my MaMaw Corns lately.  She wasn't truly my "MaMaw" if you want to be specific about it...she was actually my Great Aunt.  I don't know how or when I began referring to her as MaMaw but that's who she always was to me and I loved her with my whole heart.
MaMaw Corns was my maternal Grandmother's sister.  She lived right up the hill from my Dad and I spent the majority of my weekend hours at her house.  Looking back, I hope this never hurt my Dad's feelings.  I was there, afterall, on my weekend visitation with him.  I always looked forward to seeing my Dad and adore him just as much now as I ever did but there was something about spending time with my MaMaw that I couldn't seem to get enough of.  She babied me, she loved me and she mothered me.  Some of my very favorite memories of growing up are memories I made with her. 

My Mom always said that from the time I was born, MaMaw wanted to be around me every day.  She would visit first thing in the morning and Mom said that at times she felt almost overwhelmed by my MaMaw wanting to be so involved with me.  I never felt anything less than pure love from her.  It was the way she always remembered to buy Little Debbie snack cakes to have for me when I came to visit, the way she and I would lay across her  bed on Saturday evenings and watch The Golden Girls and 227, the way she sensed when I needed to be held and she would rock me in her rocker recliner and rub my back even when I was as old as 10 or so. 

I can remember Dad having to come get me on several occassions and tell me it was time to come home and  he would tell me I smelled just like an ashtray.  I never understood that the smell of the  "Camels" she smoked almost the entire day long latched onto my hair and clothes.  All I knew was that she was MaMaw and she did no wrong.

As I'm typing this, the memories of her are coming at me like a flood.  She loved having her garage sales and I would donate toys for her to sale only to buy them back again  in a "grab bag" for a quarter.  When she wanted to avoid company at her house, she and I would go into the bedroom and "lock" the door with a butterknife until they went away.  I remember when she got her new car that she had waited so many years for and she stuck a bumper sticker on the back of it that read "Sexy Senior Citizen."  I remember her strawberry patches, the plastic Easter eggs she would adorn the tree out front of her house with, the Avon lady "heads" that are probably worth a small fortune now that sat in her windowsill with plants growing out the tops.  I remember  how she nearly had a  heart attack the time we were in the Dollar General store and I threw a fake snake out in front of her shopping cart (what made me be so ornery?)  I remember that every Christmas she wanted her gift from me to be a Tabu perfume gift set.  I remember that she would "dog paddle" in the swimming pool but never got her hair wet.  I remember that one of her favorite meals was the homemade chicken 'n dumplings that my Aunt Sharon would make.

I also remember with so much regret that as I got to be a teenager, I found less and less time to spend with her.  Before I knew it, she had grown older, had a stroke which paralyzed one side of her body, lost so much weight that she looked like skin and bones and then ultimately had the symptoms of Alzheimers.  One of the last times I seen her, she didn't even know who I was.  My heart was broken and I wished as I do now that I could take back all those hours I didn't spend with her when I had the opportunity. 

I imagine her now in heaven with sisters, one of whom was my Grandmother who died when I was eight years old and who I called "Mom-Mom."  I imagine that Mom-Mom is wearing her pantyhose with shorts and her "moonshoes."  I imagine that MaMaw has a nice perm and smells of Tabu perfume and I like to imagine that they both are proud of who I have become.  I also like to imagine that they are taking care of my daughter  Peyton and that she is creating memories with them just like I did as a child.  And what I like to imagine most of all is that when my time comes to leave this world,  MaMaw will be one of the first people to greet me and welcome me with the same open arms she had for me all the years she was here on Earth with me.

Michael Jackson, Lady GaGa and Great White

The other morning, I was thinking about all the stuff I liked to do as a little girl (paper dolls, barbies and my treasured sticker collection to name a few.)  Emme has been curious about stickers lately.  I find them everywhere....usually she likes to stick them on her shoes.  We were sitting on the couch when I remembered that I have my old sticker books tucked away into my hope chest.  I got them out for Emme to look at.  I was surprised to see how retro those books look to me now.  It had been years since I've looked at them but holding those books in my hands again and flipping through the pages brought back such good memories.  I found Gremlin stickers, unicorns, Strawberry Shortcake and of course Michael Jackson since he was at the height of his popularity.  Emme was pointing at all of the stickers and naming what each was.  She would point to a bear and call out its name, she would point at the birds and say birds, she pointed at Michael Jackson and to my shock she said "Momma" with certainty that she was looking at a picture of me.  WHAT??!!??  I corrected her.  "No, No, Emme...that's not Momma...that's Michael Jackson."  "Momma,"  she said again.  She even looked me up and down and then back at the sticker to assure herself that yes, that was Momma in the picture in front of her.  We turned the page.  We looked at puppies, Rainbow Brite and Fraggles and another picture of MJ.  "Momma!"  Emme exclaimed.  *Sigh*  I wonder why in the world my toddler thinks I look like a black man?  Below, you will find portraits of me (apparently) in the 80's. 

 Emme's newest fashion statement is her sunglasses and she wants to wear them all the time.  ALL. THE. TIME.  And if she's not wearing them, she wants someone else to wear them.  Ga-Ga's is what she calls them.  In order to get her to eat her waffles the other morning, she insisted that I wear the ga-ga's throughout her meal.  I would wear them for what I thought was long enough and then put them on the table and try to coax her to eat some more.  "Ga-Ga's" she yells as she stiffens out her legs and begins to smack her waffles off of her tray and into the floor.  Okay, Okay...I'll wear the Ga-Ga's.  The things we'll do in order to avoid a 9 a.m. tantrum.  When Nana came to visit later on in the day, Emme also insisted that she wear the Ga-Ga's.  So there we sat, my Mom and I, having an adult conversation while she sat across from me wearing toddler sunglasses smeared with ravioli grease.

Family Values

As I've already mentioned, we have started attending Sunday morning services at Highland Baptist.  Greg and I agree that we're learning a lot and that it really does do our souls good to go to church. We remind ourselves that it's important to take a couple of hours a week to reflect on the many blessings God has given us. 
Once we get inside the church, we are completely at peace and are immediately glad we went.  Getting there is a different story.  It's complete chaos in our house.  Admittedly, we love to sleep in and our bodies go into shock if we're awakened by anything other than Emme's little voice coming through the baby monitor.  We despise the alarm clock and we are both talented at hitting the snooze button with only the tip of a finger while never having to so much as open a sleepy eye.  This gets us into some trouble on Sunday mornings. We rush to eat breakfast, get snippy with each other when we see that we're running behind schedule and then we arrive so late that we spend at the bare minimum another 10 minutes searching for a parking space.
Somehow, we continue to underestimate the amount of time it takes to do everything in our morning routines. I wonder when we're ever going to learn?  Greg said that he's glad we're in church but he doesn't want to go if we have to invite the Devil into our house every Sundy morning before we get there. 

I think back to when I was younger. My aunt and uncle would pick me up every Sunday morning at my Dad's house to take me to church with them.  Now that I'm older and I'm trying to herd my own family out the door for church (and believe me, it's like trying to herd cats,) I realize how kind they were to always include me in Sunday services with them.  They had two little girls of their own to get ready and somehow they always managed to pick me up too and still get to church on time. I can remember watching my aunt touch up her rose colored fingernail polish on the console of the car or the way she would unfasten the bobbie pins from the ends of her long, dark hair to release beautiful, bouncy, curls just as the church bell was ringing and we were pulling into the parking lot in the knick of time.  I didn't realize until the past few weeks that she did those things in the car because she was busy taking care of her family (and me) before she took care of herself. I hope that she knows that including me in her busy Sunday mornings was worth it and really did help shape me.  Here I am, 25 years later trying to carry on the same routines with my own family.  And just like my aunt, I pull down the mirror in my sunvisor and touch up my makeup, make sure my lip gloss is on straight and smooth down my hair after we finally get settled in the car. 
I learned so much from my aunt and uncle that had never dawned on me before now.  I've learned that somehow God sees to it that we always get there on time. I've learned that church builds healthy routines (my aunt and uncle are following the same rountine that they've had for as long as I can remember and have one of the strongest marriages of any couple I know.)  And most importantly, if you instill the value of church into young children then they will carry that priority with them into adulthood. 
For me, I strayed for a good long while and there were many years that I didn't step foot inside a church but somewhere in the back of my mind, the values my aunt and uncle taught me stayed strong and I'm finally getting right back to where I belong.

June Cleaver

Remember June Cleaver?  She was The Beaver's Mom.  Always pleasant, always perfect in her high heels and apron, the house was never cluttered, she didn't have to step over toys and meals were always served on time and with a smile on her flawless face. 

When I signed up to join my Mommies Group I had somehow convinced myself that I was going to meet a whole clique of June's.  I had also thought that as soon as I began my new job as a stay-at-home Mom it would be my opportunity to be one of those June's too.  I would have my husband's clothes ironed and ready at the start of each work week.  I would fix a nutrious lunch for him every day with an extra spoonfull of love in each dish.  Emme wouldn't throw tantrums because she would have her best friend (me) with her all day and what could she possibly have to be upset about? Everything was going to be sunshine and lollipops and she was going to have a perfect Mom.  Boy was I wrong...

Since joining my Mom's group and taking on my new job as Domestic Engineer, I have learned that I'll never be perfect but also that no one expects me to be.  I've met Moms from all different walks of life and with different child rearing techniques but the one thing that keeps us bonded is that we are all Moms. We've all had diapers leak poop onto our legs, boogers wiped on our shirt sleeves, food thrown at us and we've experienced toddler melt downs in public while strangers try politely not to stare. So far, I've not met one June Cleaver.  NOT ONE.  And I'm not disappointed. 

And you know who isn't diappointed in me?  My husband.  He didn't even seem to notice during my second week on the job as the Real Housewife of Louisville that he had to fend for himself for food and that his clothes weren't ironed for him. I sure did start off that first few days with a bang but the week took its toll on me real fast. I'm learning though and I am getting more in control every day and developing my own routines that work for our family. And I must be doing something right because today Greg rewarded me with jewelry and as he put the necklace on me, he told me how much he loves me and what a good wife and mother I am. I'm not June Cleaver and that's ok. 

Even the Bamboo was Crying

Who knows what has gotten into me the past few days but I have been the weepiest girl in Louisville.  I have cried for 72 hours but thank God, I think it might finally be over.  I have nothing to cry about.  I have everything a girl could ever want but well, we all have times when we get down, don't we? 
Greg has suspected that maybe I'm having trouble with not working anymore but I know he has to be wrong about that.  Being a stay at home Mom has been the thing I've wanted the most.  We have also blamed it on PMS, a side effect from my birth control or just plain mania.  I'm pretty sure I'm not a maniac though so let's not send me to the Portsmouth Receiving mental institution just yet. After all, it's only been three days.  The other 362 days of the year, I'm pretty pleasant.  :)
The maniac theory came about as a complete coincidence, however, you can be the judge.  Here's my side of the story:  We signed a contract a week ago to have a new patio roof put up.  The guy that came and gave us the estimate said that we would need to cut down some of the crazy tall bamboo that's growing next to the side of the house before they could put the roof up.  Yesterday, after yet another crying spell, I was sitting outside watching Em play in her sand table and I glanced over at the bamboo waving wildly behind me.  I marched right into the garage, grabbed hold of the industrial sized loppers and began chopping it down.  I took out nearly 3/4 of it.  I chopped and chopped and when I wasn't satisfied that I had taken enough down, I chopped some more.  Finally, I stepped back and surveyed the Edward Scissorhands artwork in front of me.  Not bad, I thought...and won't Greg be so proud that I saved him all this yard work?  Um...that would be a negative.
He came home and I could physically see that his hear skipped a beat when he seen my landscaping.  He was speechless.  At first I thought he must be thinking how strong, ambitious and helpful his wife is....but wait... he STILL wasn't saying anything.  Finally, he asked if I was alright....I knew then that he wasn't as pleased as I had imagined he would be.The "are you alright" question wasn't to mean "are you tired from working so hard?" it meant "are you sane and do I need to hide all the loppers and any other sharp objects?" 
He began to inform me that I cut it wrong and that I just put a breeding ground for mosquitos next to our beloved patio.  (Who knew that if you don't cut bamboo at the "nodes" then the poles will fill up with water, thus inviting mosquitos to do their business in our greenery?)  Immediately, tears came to my eyes and yet another crying fit insued.  I cried and cried and Greg, being the supportive husband he is, put his arms around me and reminded me there are worse things to cry over than bamboo (although I think he might have wanted to cry too at that point.) I pulled myself together and sat down to survey the damage...and it was then that Greg pointed out that even the bamboo was crying.  He was right, tears were falling from the tops of their stalks where I had lopped.  
I'm glad to report that after looking at the bamboo again today, I see that it's not as bad as we had imagined.  We were looking at it around 12 am last night by the light of the moon.  In the daylight, I can confirm that I wasn't a maniac after all, I really did thin out the bamboo like we needed to and the yard isn't going to be an eyesore all summer.  As for the "nodes" we'll have to chop  each stalk of bamboo at that point to keep the poles from being a lovenest for the mosquitos and google has assured me that the bamboo will bush out from the top of each stalk. 
All is well on the patio again, folks.  Today is a new day.  I've dried my tears and so has the bamboo. 
 

Second

This weekend was full of events for us.  Yesterday we had a fun time with friends for a Kentucky Derby 137 celebration.  We had extra reason to celebrate when we had the winning horse for the final bet.  Hooray for "Animal Kingdom!" 

May 8, 2011 was both my second Mother's Day as Emme's Mommy and mine and Greg's second wedding anniversary.  I have much to be thankful for.
Mother's Day had never been a very joyous holiday for me.  I spent nearly 10 years in envy of other's Mothers being celebrated while many people forgot that I too was once a Mother. My first daughter, Peyton, was taken from me entirely too early.  I got lost in feeling very sorry for myself and my loss.  At times, I still hang on to that sorrow....
I watched a new daughter sleeping soundly in her bed this morning.  I opened her door slowly enough that she didn't realize I was adoring her as she slept. Before waking her, I took a minute to think about how the little girl snuggled in her bed in front of me had given me back a piece of my heart that I thought would never begin to heal.  Later in the day, the tiny voice saying "Mommy" made my eyes well up with tears.  There's nothing like being called Mommy after you've waited so many years. 

I have Greg to thank for all the happiness I feel.  Who knew when we met as neighbors that we would share our lives and build a family together?  I had no idea at the time that the best friend I'd been searching for was living right next door. We sat next to each other this morning in our first bible study class, two years to the day of when we began our married life together. We are growing together spiritually and I believe that couples who are growing together will never grow apart.  I look forward to a lifetime of anniversaries with this man who God has sent to me. 

He Heard Me....

Occassionally,  I attend Friday night church services at Highland Baptist.  This is a church service unlike any other that I have attended at other churches because the Friday night church congregation consists mainly of men who are being bussed to the church as part of their rehab from The Wayside Christian Mission.  The Wayside Christian Mission serves our community as a homeless shelter and offers rehabilitation to those suffering from drug and alcohol problems.  You would have to be blind to not notice them as they come through the doors...many of them look rough around the edges and can be seen standing around the side of the church both before and after service smoking cigarettes and shooting the breeze.  They all come in and sit on the right hand side of the church.  It would be easy to judge these people but once you hear their testimonies and see the transformation taking place in their lives, you quickly remember the old saying about not judging a book by its cover.
I always enjoy going to Friday church because it makes me take 45 minutes of my day to reflect on real life problems and reminds me that the best way to deal with struggles is to turn them over to God. 
Recently, Greg and I have become more and more fond of this church.  I enjoy listening to the pastor and the choir really does sound near angelic.  We've spent so many nights talking about spirituality and the importance of raising our daughter to know God.  For the past few weekends, we've started attending Sunday morning church service but we always leave right afterwards and have not attended a Sunday school class.  We don't know where to go and we don't know anyone in the church well enough to speak up and ask which class we would best fit into. 
Tonight, at Friday church, I was surprised to see that the service was being led by the Youth group.  While it was nice to see the youth involved in the service, in my mind I was complaining to myself that I really wanted to hear the pastor's sermon.  I made up my mind that attending tonight wasn't going to feed my soul the way I hoped it would.  I was wrong.
At the end of service as the pastor was dismissing us, he said he wanted to remind everyone of a new Sunday school class that will begin this Sunday.  My ears perked up.  The class is called Highlights and he said that it will serve those people who are new to the church and who want to learn more about becoming a member.  God truly has heard my prayers.  I've been soul searching for awhile now about my faith and my beliefs.  I prayed and God led me to Highland Baptist.  Highland Baptist...the sign out front says it is a "Thinking, Feeling, Healing Church."  I have to say I agree and for the first time that I can remember, I can hardly wait until Sunday school.

Beginning Today...

I've been keeping a journal on and off for a couple of years but I've found that I spend way more time on the internet than in front of a piece of paper with an ink pen in my hand so I'm going to give blogging a try.  I'll still keep a handwritten journal too so that one day when I'm gone, my kids will have something to hold and cherish with the life story of their Mom and Dad.  My journal is actually one of my most prized possessions.  Every now and then I'll include a picture in it to go along with the entry of the day or print out an e-mail that was particulary sweet from Greg.
Beginning today though, this is my journal I'll share with the world.  It may prove to be just ordinary and boring to some but for me, this is my life and I love the life I'm living. 

I learned a lesson today. It's probably going to sound insignificant but it was a lesson, nonetheless.  After Emme got up from her nap I thought about how nice it was outside and thought it would be a good evening to take her to the park.  When I got there, I quickly found out that a lot of other people had the same idea.  I pulled into a parking space and evaluated the situation.  Did I really want to get up there with all those other parents, just me and Emme?  No...I didn't.  I wanted to just turn around and go home and play in the backyard where we could have privacy.  Emme wouldn't run the risk of being run over by another kid and I wouldn't have to feel insecure around all those other parents.  I wonder why, at 32 years old I still feel insecure?  Shouldn't I be over that by now?  I was ready to back out of my parking spot and head back to my comfort zone when I glanced in my rearview mirror and seen Emme's little head all perked up trying to see what was going on at the playground in front of us.  It dawned on me that I was being selfish.  I remembered my original plan:  Get outside, enjoy the nice weather and let Emme play at the park.  My outgoing little girl is only 19 months old.  She has no insecurites....she just wants to play.  I put my car in park and followed her lead.
After I got her out of the carseat, I put her down on the sidewalk next to me and reached for her hand.  She held on for only a second before she took off as fast as lightning toward the swingset.  "Here we go," I thought to myself.  We approached the kids and parents and Emme immediately fit right in.  I stood there, feeling a little awkward while she began climbing onto the stairs of the play area.  I watched her interact with the other kids and I began silently praying that she never loses that confidence. 
Then, the thing that I never expected to happen, happened.  Another Mom walked up to the playground with her two little kids and she began talking with me.  We talked and talked until before we knew it, the sun started to fade away and the air began getting chilly.  Before we left, the conversation led to Facebook and she added me as a friend.  And just like that, I learned my lesson of the day:  You can't make new friends when you stay in the privacy of your own backyard.