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.