A Letter to my little sister.

Dear Bree,

It seems you and I have come a long way.  When you were little and I was just beginning my teen years, you drove me crazy.  You were quite possibly the most terrorizing little shit I knew.  I was MORE than happy to move away and get away from you when I got married and moved to Germany.  You were more than happy for me to leave.  I don't think we ever talked much even over the phone without some nasty words being exchanged.

I'm thankful that our relationship has changed over the years.  Thankful that we can now talk to one another without me wanting to scratch your eyeballs out.  Very thankful that we actually enjoy one another now.

Having a sister is a blessing.  A little sister is someone that you can share your knowledge with and give advice to. I do my best to do that without stepping into you life.  "You're Grown", right?  Well, at this point, your big sister still has a few pointers for her 21 year old baby sister.

Don't ever move too fast with a guy.  People show you who they want you to see when you first meet them and when they are trying to get to know you.  Take your time and get to know someone before you start thinking of moving up levels with them. Judge Mabeline always says, "Look Deep before you leap."  GREAT ADVICE.  Never let your heart get in the way of good judgment.

Mama always told me, "Never let anyone steal your joy."  It meant a lot when she told it to me. It was a time when joy was hard to find.  I want to tell you the same thing and take it a step further with your joy, your self-confidence or your ambitions.  You're my sister, which makes you at least HALF as gorgeous as I am :-)!  Don't ever forget that. Don't ever let anyone make you feel differently.  If dad didn't instill anything else in me, it was confidence in my self.  Be beautiful inside and out and that light will shine on to others.  Also, steer clear of the dream killers.  Some people are negative and don't want to see you do better for yourself.  Dream Killers will have you doubting what you can do and who you can be.  Be ambitious, little sister.  And if you want to do something, DO IT!  If you're going to dream, dream big and then go forth and accomplish!

You want to surround yourself with positive people.  Those people will guide you to do positive things.  Surround yourself with people who are looking toward a brighter future, people who want to do better and be better in life, people you aspire to be like and people who are going places.  When you do this, you start to think like these people and they teach you to do the same.

Enjoy Life, Girlie!  You only have one!

Your Big Sister, 

Kay

Family Pics 2011

Getting the family together to snap some good pictures is certainly not an easy task.  Everyone has to be at their best simultaneously.  That almost never happens.  

That means Miss Missy has to have a fresh hair-do.  

The boys have to have a fresh haircut.

Hubs, of course have to have a fresh haircut.

And me, well, I'm almost always looking my best.

Finally, everything fell into place.  Everyone was on top of their game... except for the fact that my hair was not cooperating, but I could handle that because everyone else looked great.

So I took the fam out to snap some picture.  Something we NEVER to as a whole.

Here is what we got:

Brain Cancer, Round 3

Last week, my dad had a "procedure"  done.  At least, that's what he called it.  

As many of you already know, in 2008 we found out that my dad had brain cancer.  He immediately had surgery and everything was great for a year.  It came back in October of last year, 2 years later.  

He had a second brain surgery.  This one, not as smooth as the first.  He lost his memory due to swelling with this one.  It was extremely unnerving for me to see him like this.  My dad, who has always been the strongest person in my life,couldn't remember who I was.  He would look me directly in my eyes and not know my name.  He stumbled over words and repeated numbers, months and dates that made no sense at all.  The nurses assured us that it would get better after the swelling, but that did nothing for how scared I was at that moment.


On Wednesday, he called me from the hospital again.  The MRI had showed a spot.  Just four and a half months later.  Sigh....


He was preparing to have a procedure done.


Radiation procedure.


Back in October, he was given a choice to have a blast of radiation sent to the cancer spot on his brain or have the surgery.  Since the first one had gone so well, he opted to try it again.  This time, I think that the memory loss after the second surgery scared him... a lot... and he decided to try the radiation.


They screwed a metal halo to his head and sent a blast of radiation to the spot that I so desperately would love to see gone for good.  

On a positive note, the recovery for this procedure was a breeze.  No hospital stay. No pain.


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I have moved all the way across country to Arizona.  The timing couldn't be worse.  The quick return of the cancer this time scares me terribly.  The idea that it only took 4 month to come back this time... sigh... I can't stand to think what happens next.  


He didn't call me until right before the procedure.  He didn't tell anyone what was happening other than his girlfriend and cousin. My sister and brother had no idea.  I know he doesn't want to see me worry, but not knowing is worse.  I feel like I should be in Georgia to be close... just in case... just in case ANYTHING happens.    


Sometimes I can't help but feel like I should have stayed in GA...

I'm so HOOD!

Since my dad has been here on and off, he has on serveral occasions made reference tot the way that I raise my kids that has gotten under my skin!  Okay, first of all, he is always talking about how much I spoil them.  He thinks that I DO too much for them.  Anybody who knows me knows that my kids are very independent and they do most things on their own.  They wake up in the morning to their own alarm clock while I'm still sound asleep in my bed.  They pick out their own clothes from the clothes that I have already ironed, or they iron their own when I'm behind and have loads of unironed laundry in my room.  They decide what to eat for breakfast.  My job in the morning is to call out from my bed asking if they have done the essentials.

Have you made your bed?

Have you brushed your teeth?

Have you put lotion on your ashy legs?

Things like that.  They have several responsibilities around the house.  They are responsible for taking out the trash, unloading and reloading the dishwasher, cleaning their bathroom, cstraightening the family room and of course cleaning their own room.

They are 10 and 7.  What more should I have them doing?

Okay, not only are they spoiled because they don't "do" enough, they are spoiled because I give them birthday parties.  Apparently I spend too much money on their birthdays.  Apparently, the parties are more for my benefit than for theirs.

Hmm, are you trying to say that I spend the money on their parties to try to look good??

What the heck is wrong with giving my kids a party?  Really?  Cam's up and coming 8 year old party is going to be in my backyard with cake and ice cream and pizza.  It's gonna be a water party.  And apparently this is too much?  They're getting too OLD for birthday parties?  Are you kidding me???  So because of this, my kids are spoiled?

Hmmm.

Okay and this is the kicker.  The thing that he said that really got under my skin.  Okay, for those of you that don't know me, let me give you a little background.  I'm not at all a city girl.  Not at all a girl from the block.  Growing up, I was raised in a military setting around a melting pot of military kids.  Good neighborhoods. Little crime.  I choose to live the same way.  I'm very picky in how my kids are raised and very picky with the environments they are exposed to, the things that they see and the things that they learn about.  So we live in a small city outside a large city where the schools have good ratings and the neighbors look out for each other.

So, my dad goes with me one day to CJ's basketball game and his comment was, "Where are all the black kids?"

Me:  There's one more on the team.

Him, giving me a crazy look.  He needs to be playing with black kids.

Me, confused: Why?

Him:  He's not going to get any better if he is playing around kids that are not as good as he his.  He needs to be around kids that are better than him... that will beat up on my.  It will make him tough."

Me: um.  He does just fine here.

Him:  You need to take him to the hood so those boys can teach him how to play.

Me:  I don't want to introduce my kids to "the hood".


So a few weeks later, he says, "Hey Kay, there's a big Easter Egg Hunt that they are talking about on the radio.  There are suppose to be over 10 thousand eggs."

Me: Umm.  That's down in May Park.  Really not my cup of tea.

Him:  Why not?

Me:  Well that's down town.  The hood.  Not trying to be out there.

Him, disgusted:  You need to stop.  Take those kids around those folks.  Introduce them to the hood.  They're gonna learn about it anyway!

Me:  WHY?  My kids have no business "learning" about that.  There is no reason that they need to be going down to the ghetto just because there are other black kids there.  They have plenty of black friends here.  Not to mention white, brown and BLUE!  There is nothing down there that their father and I want them to see.  My goal is to raise them in the way that I want them to go.  The Hood is not it."

Okay, Hubs and I know what's best for our children. I think that's what bothers me most.  THESE ARE MINE!  Besides that, Hubs is from the "hood" so to say.  He grew up poor, lives in an area where everyone is carrying a gun, and if they are not on drugs they are a dope boy or an aspiring one. They kids have seen how they're grandparents, uncle and cousins live and when we ask them if that is the way they want to live, they quickly respond, NO!

This is one of the ways we let them know how important it is that they stay in school. I don't feel that we need to glorify a place like the hood when it is not the direction in which we want them brought up.  There is nothing there to glorify!

But for some reason, my dad seems to think I'm wrong for that.

I wasn't raised in the hood.  My mother had tight reigns on my siblings and I and there was no way she was going to allow us to be around the hood life.  Even when we were visiting our family in Michigan, we were only allowed to do so much.  There is too much trouble when you're out in the "hood".

So I was frustrated with the fact that apparently I'm trying to be uppidty in the way that I raise my kids because I don't want them involved in such a life.  I want to see them college bound, educated, successful.  I want them to stay focused and not be attracted to the fast money of the hood life.  So If I'm wrong for not taking them there, then so be it.  They are MINE and time will tell!

Thankful Thoughts of November... Surviving

I have something special to be thankful about. I'm so giddy about this that I can't believe that it actually took me this long to post about it.

No, I'm not pregnant. In that case I'd be crushed, the opposite if giddy and standing on the top of a building ready to belly flop to my doom! I have decided that 3 is enough. Wouldn't wanna take the spotlight off the other kids, right?

But today and for the last few days, I have been thankful that the doctors have decided that it is time for my dad to come off of chemo. No more treatments! They are amazed with his progression and the fact that after almost 2 years every test has come back clean. Every CAT scan has shown no return of a tumor. Now if you need to catch up and read the entire story you can read it here.

But it's a story worth telling again so I will recap:

2 years ago I got a call from my Grandmother telling me to call my dad because he was in the hospital. My dad NEVER gets sick, so for him, it had to be serious.

When I spoke to him he sounded so small and so afraid as he told me that they'd found 2 masses on his brain. These masses, of course turned out to be two walnut sized tumors. Not just any old tumors, but brain tumors. Not just any brain tumors, but Stage 4

Glioblastoma multiforme brain cancer.

Doing the research, I immediately found that this was quiet absolutely THE worse brain cancer you can get. People just didn't live long with this type of cancer.

He had a great surgeon. One credited with being on of the best in the nation. Awards and all.

When the surgeon came out of the operating room, he simply said that it seemed that he'd gotten it all out and it didn't look good.

That's a lot to take in. Now, I'd done the research, so I wasn't feeling positive, but that made me feel worse.

A few days later, a quickly recovering, now bald, father, saw the follow up doctor. This doctor was just as grim as he gave a NICE KNOWIN' YA. HANG IN THERE. YOU DON'T HAVE LONG prognosis.

Almost two years later, after several cat scans and months of chemo, the doctors are taking him off of the chemo. He is healthy. They are amazed! I am amazed! He is still bald. But he is healthy. For how ever long GOD allows! So the one thing that I am most grateful for is that No Man, No Doctor, and No Science can know what the power of prayer can do!

And for this I am thankful!

Spacial thanks to Clueless Mama @ Guessing All The Way for giving me the chance to participate in her Thankful Thoughts. Get over there and add your name to her Mr. Linky, snag this great button and get back to your page and tell what you are thankful about! Go, I'm ready to read it!

Explaining Divorce... by a 7 year old.

Miss Missy: Mama, did grandma in Connecticut and Grandpa here ever sleep together?

My mind went to places that I know her young mind couldn't travel as I could help gaggin' on my Popeye's chicken dinner with the thought of my parents sleeping together. Eww!

Sir-Talks-A-Lot saves the day, because mama was speechless: She means before they were divorced. Did they every sleep in the same bed. Miss Missy (of course he doesn't call her that), grandma and grandpa got a divorce, but of course they use to sleep together because they were married. All married people sleep together.

Miss Missy, looking at me: What does divorce mean?

Sir-Talks-A Lot: Well, divorce means that you are married and then you fight and you don't want to be married anymore. I mean, they still talk (referring to my parents, which is where I had to just think really?), but I don't know why they got divorced. I guess they just didn't like each other anymore. Well not didn't like, but just not want to be married. I don't know. I don't understand why people get a divorce.

Me neither, Sir-Talks-A-Lot. It's one of those things that just isn't easy to explain to kids. One of those things I hope I never have to explain to mine.

Speaking of which, have you seen the tabloids about Jon and Kate? He withdrew all the money from their joint account, won't let the camera crews on their property and doesn't want his kids to continue with the show. Wow, divorce can get pretty ugly!

Reading to them lasts a lifetime!

Miss Missy is home for the second day from her beloved Pre-K class. I know she's sick when she doesn't argue about having to stay home. She loves school. Her teacher is always letting me know that she is very smart. They are impressed with her, always telling me that she's the smartest one in the class. What can I say? She get it from her MAMA!

And here I was thinking that she wasn't going to be much of a scholar. She wasn't anything like the boys. She wouldn't sit through a whole bedtime story and wasn't constantly bringing me books to read to her.

She didn't catch on to recognizing her letters as quickly at 2 as they did and she just didn't seem that into sitting down learning like the boys were.

But here we are! She's starting to read and it's only 2 months into pre-k. I'm proud of her as we sit down to read A House For Little Red by Margaret Hillert and she can recognize so many of the sight words that we went over in the summer time and is almost reading the book to me! Here I was thinking that she was gonna be slacking in comparison to the boys and she is actually excelling.

Runnin' Man, who everyone praises for being so smart, didn't start reading until Kindergarten. I remember very well because the first one he read to me was the same one that Miss Missy and I are practicing reading together. A House For Little Red. I love Margaret Hillert books. They are an easy ready for beginners. Easy and repetitive.

When I was a kid I always wanted my mom to read to me at night. She doesn't let me forget that my favorite book that I ALWAYS chose was Hiram's Red Shirt. I don't remember the author, but it was A Little Golden Book and I had her to read it to me all the time. Snippety Stitch, Snippety Stitch. A little from here makes a little for there! LOL! It was about a farmer who found out that the things that you love don't last forever. Poor Hiram cut up his favorite shirt to patch other parts of the shirt until there was nothing left, which is probably how I read that book! Until there was nothing left! I wish I still had it to read to my kids, though they probably wouldn't love it quite as much as I did.

My mom use to get so tired of me choosing that book, but she was trooper. She'd always read it to me anyway.

I have to get better about reading to my kids. They ask, but a lot of times I just don't make time to do it anymore. It's a big job getting them down as is and a story would just add to the chaos. But I have to make the time. I truly believe that reading to your children broadens their imagination. This is where their love of reading starts. I don't even think they can say that they have a favorite book that they could just read over and over! Oh yeah, I gotta get better!

I mean, I complain about Runnin' Man not liking to read, but I'm not helping the situation. This is why, along with skipping out on church on Sundays because I'm tired, I also have set Sunday's aside as a day to have Power Reading Hours with the kids. During this time, we turn off the TV's and video games and all get in my bed and read a book. I like to choose books that don't have a lot of pictures, where they are required to use their imagination, but right now we are working on the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series. The boys love the series, but Miss Missy is waiting for the princesses and tea party chapter.

Power Reading Hours are the best time of my week. It's a time when I'm not yelling, not chauffeuring, not cooking, not fussing, NOT STRESSING. Just doing something that I love to do anyway, with my children who love the idea of just spending the time together.

Now, if I could only squeeze in those darn bedtime stories!

Mama's on the phone! PAR-TAY!

Y'all, let me tell you! It was one of THOSE nights. With school back in, those kids are suppose to be in the be by nine. Well, I decided to make them fold their clothes before they went to bed because Mama ain't about to be doing all this housework by herself. I didn't wear those clothes!

Anywho, apparently the boys had swallowed a box of giggles at the dinner table because something was really dang-on funny about those clothes.

The problem was, my mom decided to call right before 9, which just so happens to be the worse time for me to be on the phone, when it is time for them to go down.

When I get on the phone, they automatically think it's playtime because Mama ain't gonna do nothin' to us with a witness on the other line!

So while they are suppose to me folding the basket of laundry that was poured on the bed, all I could hear was

HEE HEE HEE KEEE KEEE KEE HEE KEEE HEE HE KEEEEEE!

I went in there and laid out the threats.

Do you think that worked?

No! Because I was still on the phone.

HEE HEE KEEE KEE HEEE KEEE KEEE KEEEEEE!

I took out the belt.

So you think that worked?

No. Because I was still holding the phone.

HEEEE HEE KEEE KEE KEEE KEE HEEE HE KEEE KEE!

I pop their butt! (obviously it didn't hurt) Do you know they laughed at me?!?!?

KEEE KEEE KEEE HEE HEEE HEEE HE KEEE KEEE KEEEEEE!

I hung up the phone.

silence....................

The clothes got folded and the light went off.

Those little twerps know when to play with me!

The First Day of School

The first day of school arrived for us on Monday.

This was much anticipated by the kids. They couldn't wait to get dressed in their new school clothes (which I was finally able to buy) and be off to school. They dressed alike, as the usually do on the first day.

It was Miss Missy's very first day of school. Because I've been home, unlike the boys, this was her first school experience. She did, spend about 2 months in a home daycare environment while I struggle to try to become a loan officer about 2 years ago, but that was pretty much it.

She'd been so excited.

I don't know if you all are familiar with the Pre-K lottery we have. There are 20 positions in the boys' school. There were 80+ students trying to get these slots. We weren't one of the chosen.

That left the other 60 kids' parents to go out and search for a Pre-K slot at a daycare facility that offers Pre-K. I have to say that I was smart. Back in May when I realized we weren't gonna have a position at the school, the one where I put it 30 VOLUNTEER hours a week, I signed her up at 3 different schools.

So about a week before the first day, I call my first choice, who'd said they were opening up a 3rd class and she was SURE to have a slot. Guess what. They didn't open the class. Nice of someone to call me.

My other choice, I wasn't really sure about.

So I called around, found a center that still had spots signed her up and on Monday morning, got Miss Missy all dressed and ready for her big debut. I get there and this center was unsanitary unorganized AND there was no teacher! Apparently, she was on the list for the 3rd class that wasn't opened yet. The teacher was "ON THE WAY". I waited a few minutes and left. Never EVER to return again. Remind me to write a letter to the Pre-K Association about that place!

So it was back to the one I'd written off. And after a second look around, with precaution after what I'd seen at "ANGEL WINGS", I decided to give it a try. After all, Miss Missy hadn't stopped talking about going to school all summer. I just couldn't take that away from her.

She cried, Guys! She she a little tear when she knew that I was leaving. Miss Missy has NEVER cried when I left her ANYWHERE! NONE of my kids have cried when I left them anywhere! They all can't wait to be left somewhere and dart away from me when they've gone to school or a babysitter.

It was hard to see her get nervous and stick out her bottom lip.

She didn't cry out or anything. Just got glassy-eyed.

Her teacher took her to look around and I left as they went outside to look at the playground.

My very last little one is in school. I know I should have cried. I know that's what parents usually do when their babies reach such milestones. Instead, when I got home. I did a happy dance! Couldn't keep me from doing the ELECTRIC SLIDE as I cleaned my house IN PEACE!

She came home happy. Couldn't stop the girl from talking and dancing. Apparently, her day was as good as MOM'S! LOL!

They were all thrilled.

FRG and PTO? Am I crazy?

Am I the only one who has kids that start back to school on Monday?

I haven't bought the kids so much as a SHIRT for school yet and I'm not sure when I will find the time. Not only do I have to help out at OPEN HOUSE, my husband's company FRG (Family Readiness Group) has a family day planned. I've also agreed to take a position on the FRG. I want to stay as busy as possible this year to kind of help ease the time as much as possible.

Tuesday was back to "work" for me, as PTO had to be present for the Teacher Breakfast that we host annually.

I was up...... uhh, well I had my alarm clock set for 7am. Do you know the last time I saw the 7am sunlight????

I pushed snooze a few times before getting up. Why would I do that knowing that the kids had to get ready, too? I don't know. Because I'm lazy like that. See, where Karen, out PTO Prez, messed up was telling me the right time that the dang on thing was suppose to start.

RULE #1: Give me an extra 30 minutes! Never give then the right time to arrive. I WON'T MAKE IT! I get that from my mom!

So, the tee shirts came in and they are ADORABLE!!!!

I was so worried about coming up with a school shirt that everyone would like and that would SELL! I think I did it! The teachers were PLEASED with my selection. Everyone was, maybe except for Karen, who was upset that I didn't run it all by her before presenting it to the principal. But, you know me! The HELL with her! She'd been out of town, I did the work, it turned out great. Didn't need her. I think Karen can be a bit a of control freak, and after a year of people whispering in my ear about that, I'm finally picking up on it.

It's funny, because, I'd heard about all the controversy that could be involved in PTO. But I was suckered into the position by my FAVE teacher and went in all jolly and cheerful. Just wanted to help, do my job and make a few people happy. For me, it was never about politics. I would have been fine without the VP title and done the same amount of volunteering. Most people choose not to join because you have these few cliquish folk who are "in power" and think they are OBAMA! Well, with us it really isn't like that. We all seem to get along great with PTO and with the staff and I enjoyed my first year.

This year, I'm hoping will come out the same. If I can get Karen to calm down, reliquish some of her power, allow others to take control of projects, things will be fine. If not, I may just be a PTO member next year (smile).

I'm not sure what I'm thinking taking on all these volunteer positions, but I have a feeling that there are many more out there that will be calling my name this year. Perhaps I need to trade them all in on a JOB! But I think this helps me WORK on that because I guarantee it will look good on a resume'!

When it rains, it poors!

Our trip outside of civilization was an interesting one. I think that because we've been having such a wonderful, busy summer, it was time for God to put the breaks on us and bring us back to the reality of the everyday life of bills, finances and problems.

So, of course the most unexpected thing was Mrs. Ottley's death. Although it wasn't really that unexpected. After all, she was 95. I just didn't know she was that sick, I suppose.

The funeral was a wet one. It was dry during the memorial, but as soon as we were leaving the church to go to the cemetery, the rain started to come down like the dickens!

I mean it PORED! There were flowers turned over all over the cemetery, and Hubs insisted that I wait in the car, as many others seems to do, as the very final goodbyes were said.

The night didn't get any better as we had tons of scatter thunderstorms on into the night.

HENCE, the limb falling on my car. YEAH! The brand new one! Yeah, my 2009 Mazda CX-9 that I didn't want to get but now wouldn't give up. Dented the hood and on the side.

All I kept hearing was, "Well, it coulda been worse.", "At least it didn't hit the window.", "At least now one was in it.", "At least everyone is safe."

Yeah, I'm happy about all that, but it's STILL my brand new whip, maaaaaaannnnn! Do you know how that feels???

Okay, so the tree, thank goodness was on city property and we are currently in the process of getting some estimates and seeing if they are going to pay. THEY BETTER! For one, I can't afford the $1000 deductible it's gonna cost me if they don't. Two, IT'S A NEW CAR, MAAAAAAN!

So, now we have the "home going" and a dented up car. Next? Why is it that his mom failed to mention that there was no HOT WATER in their house?? Hmmm???? So here we are 5 bodies and no hot water. Apparently the heater has been out since our last visit. (sigh) Don't even want to go there..........

There were issues with my step daughter that I won't even go into either. All I will say is that this little 14 year old HOT and SASSY chick done tore her drawers with me and her daddy! And lets just say that she ended up with an ultimatum that she didn't like. Either she gets herself together within the next 12 months or she will pack up and come and live with us.

Hopefully, she gets her stuff straight cause it would be hell trying to tame and retrain an unruly 15 year old to live by my standards without having to beat the black off of her. But, (smile), I would do my best.....

After 6 days in the HOOD, out of my comfort zone, in an area of town where you don't want to be, don't feel safe and aren't use to, we came home. Yesterday afternoon, we come home to a leak from the ceiling in our kitchen! My house is 4 years old! Can someone tell me why I have a leak in my ceiling? Why has my AC unit in the attic overflown water that has caused damage to my kitchen? Why is that another $1000 deductible that I may be paying?

Now while we got the leak to stop before the ceiling caved in, (thank goodness I changed my mind about heading out to look for school clothes!) the ceiling is now ugly!

All these crazy things right before Hubs' "desert vacation"!

I hate to ask, but what else can............????

Final Goodbyes

First of all, please be so patient with me as I have not been able to post as much as I would have liked this summer.

It's been a busy one.

But I can guarantee that very soon, I may have more time on my hands than I want and you may get tired of all that I have to say!

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I was out of touch for a while. I mean, I was DISCONNECTED from the world of the Internet and it was killing me!

We spent about 6 days visiting Hub's family, and let me tell you, it ain't easy not having the Internet for that long.

I think I'd started going through withdrawals! Shaking and sweating and stuff... 4 real, ya'll!

Okay, so we had a death in the family unit.

Well actually, she wasn't blood family, but, even to me, she was like a family member.

Mrs. Ottley was 95 years young and, oh what a feisty something she was! She was a neighbor to Hubs' mom, and someone I met right after we were married and took fondly to right away.

Mrs. Ottley called her self our auntie and treated our kids like her own grand kids, I guess since she had none herself.

Growing up, Hubs use to go down to her house, help her out with anything she needed done. Bringing in the mail, taking out the trash, raking leaves, whatever. And she paid him for it, probably what she thought was a lot, but many times was probably enough for a value meal.

But he didn't do it for the money. Hubs has a good heart. He saw someone with a need and he was there to help.

At the funeral, he spoke with tears in his eyes about how she helped to mold him into the person he has become. Her giving him little odd jobs to do kept him out of trouble and gave him a sense of responsibility and respect and pride. She help to raise him, so to say, like in the old days when every older person on your street was able to set you straight. He loved her and in the short time that she was apart of my life, so did I.

Have you every sat and listened to your elders tell stories for their young days? Boy, that was my favorite part of out talks. She told me the story of her life and those are the times that I will cherish the most.

So this I have to say, as I'm sure you all have heard so many times before:

You never know when some one's last days might be. You may never be able to say goodbye. Call and talk to those that you love now. Cherish them when they are here. Send my flowers while I'm living! I'd rather be able to know how you feel while I'm living rather than hear in in my final goodbyes.

Woes of the Army Child

My heart broke last night.

Sir-Talks-A-Lot came into the room where I was sitting at the computer.

His eyes were wide, sad... glassy.

Me: What did you do?

Sir-Talks-A-Lot: I didn't do nothing.

Me: Well what's wrong then?

Sir-Talks-A-Lot: It's just... I'm... Sad.

The cracking in his voice made it evident that there was about to be tear flowing.

Sir-Talks-A-Lot: I don't want daddy to go to leave.

I didn't know what to say as he layed his head in my lap and cried. There's still over a month. I'm not ready for this. When Hubs deployed to Korea, Sir-Talks-A-Lot was the one that I had to console for many nights. He's very sensative and very caring and he gets really broken up over a loss.

So I tried to console him and tell him that there is still plenty of time before his daddy has to leave and that he has to make sure that he spends as much time with him as possible until then.

He raised his head up and looked at me again, trying to wipe away the tears.

I don't want daddy to go to Iraq. What if he nevers comes back? I don't want to have to go to another funeral.

(My uncle died of sickle cell about 2 years ago and this was they kids' first experience with death)

What does a mother say when he heart is breaking realizing that her baby is afraid of losing his daddy in the war? What do you tell a 7 year old?

I assured him that his daddy would be fine. His daddy is privelidge to work in an office environment when he gets deploys he is going to be fine.

He had a lot of what-if questions after that.

What if the bad guys come?

What if they have to move to a different place?

What if he doesn't come back?

Questions that mom doesn't have the answer to right now. Questions that are lurking within me as well. Questions that are just not right for a child to have to worry about.

So as the time comes closer, I realize that we have to sit down and prepare the children. They have questions and fears that it seems that they have been scare to talk about.

I just hope I'm strong enough to answer them.



He left the room, seeming content as he went off to go play with his siblings.

He returned a few minutes later and said:

I'm just going to pray for daddy every night while he's gone that he come home safe.

I smiled. He's so sweet.

Me: That's the best thing that you can possible do, baby.

Note to self: Don't forget to shave.

It's a wonderful thing to snuggle up with your little one. I love having my littlest one in my bed at night all cuddle up next to me hugging me like I'd disappear if she lets go.

And then she let go, or at least moved her legs away from me.

She looks as me and say, "Mommy, you're sticking me."

"Sticking you?"

"Yes, with your legs." and she rolls over and cuddles up next to her daddy.



Now things must really be bad when a hairy man is softer than mom legs.

My Husband's toothbrush

You ever immediately knew that it was gonna be JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS?

I brushed my teeth with my husband's toothbrush this morning. Perhaps I should have waited until my eyes were fully opened before starting my daily regiment this morning. I used his toothbrush and didn't realize what gross and disgusting thing I'd done until I went to rinse and spit and realize I didn't normally use a blue toothbrush.

Okay, yeah, this is the man that I kiss. Yeah, we share foods sometimes, eat off the same fork or sip off the same straw, but I am totally grossed out by using someone else's toothbrush. ANYONE else's toothbrush. That is the very item that he uses to brush the grossness out of his mouth every morning the old food, plaque build up and the morning breath and I just transferred all that into my mouth. Just plain gross! I'm just getting sick thinking about throwing up!

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I drug myself out of bed this morning because I REALLY didn't want to get up. I was sleeping so good, as I'd gone to bed late as usual, and my phone starts to ring at about 8.

I know I haven't been posting much lately but I've been dealing with my cousin and the last bit of the Family Reunion planning and I promise you that I can't wait for this craziness to be over and done. Have you ever planned a family reunion? Me neither. My planning usually consists of showing up, what to wear and what to say to those folks that ask, "Do you remember me?"

Why oh why did I decide to put my 2 cents in on the actual planning? My cousin ran with that and hasn't stopped ringing my bell for 2 months.

I thought the early morning call was her so I didn't answer. I thought the next call on my house phone was her too, so I didn't turn over. I KNEW the text messages just HAD to be her so I ignored them. Unfortunately the calls and texts didn't stop so here I am, up, checking email and readying myself for another stressful day.

Family Reunion Planning:

Would you believe that someone asked for their money back for the reunion fees less than 2 weeks before the reunion?

Excuse ME?? Okay, all orders have been place, all expenses have been paid and all contracts have been signed and the companies that we are working with are not interested in returing the money. So apparently now you angry family member who doesn't want to attend for whatever reason and want a refund? At the last minute? I say TOUCH TISSUE PAPER! I sympathize with you and the fact that you lost $200, but SORRY! The money aint comimg out of my pocket. Call Stone Mountain. The the banquet hall, call the tour bus people and see if they are gonna give you your money back this late in the game. Everything is paid for because we are having this darn thing in two weeks. OH well! Sorry Charlie!

WHY OH WHY don't we have our t-shirts yet??? She order them online from a company called Tshirt Cafe and I'll be darn if they are not trying to screw us out of our money.

Looky here Mr. T-shirt man of T-Shirt Cafe, you promised that you'd have our t-shirts done and in our hands within two weeks of ordering. Why is it that a month later we are still waiting? Why haven't you answered my cousins calls and why is it that suddenly you happened to have a family emergency a week before I NEED MY SHIRTS????

You haven't sent an invoice, a tracking number for shipping... you know, I'm starting to think you're screwing my cousin. I'm starting to think that you have a full-o- s*** business and that you got the money and ran. I'm starting think that I might have to let all my friends and family know about you and your work or lack there of and I might have to spread the word about how WONDERFULLY you have treated your customers. I might have to BLOG about you and tell all both of my blog followers how they shouldn't use you based on my cousin's experience. (yeah I said all both because I sure that I have a good 2 right now! LOL) That'll show you!

I imagine that you are sitting in your single wide trailer in Henderson, North Carolina, picking lint and pork rind crumbs out of your belly button, laughing hysterically that the Perry Banks York family who really thought you were gonna send them some OBAMA reunion shirts! (if you are about to send the shirts and you read this, Mr. Tshirt Cafe Man, please take it as just jokes and rush off the the post office. I didn't mean it! LOL)

I'll do it too!


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So amidst all the drama, there is a silver lining. I haven't seen Paris Jackson cry in Janet's arms one time yet! Now THAT'S a blessing!

Doctor Office Drama (part 1)

Have you ever had a bad visit to your doctor's office?

A few years ago, I was taking my children and myself to the on-post Family Practice. If you are military, chances are you can relate when I say how terrible it is to have to go to this place. Well first off, the appointment line is horrible. You call, stay on hold for about 45 minutes and when someone finally does answer, they tell you that they don't have any appointments, maybe till next month and almost NEVER with your assigned health care provider. I never knew who our doctor was because I NEVER GOT TO SEE HIM/HER!

The other option was to call back after 1 and maybe there was a cancellation. HA! FAT CHANCE!

The wait time there was horrible. The worse thing for a mother is to have to sit in a waiting room with a 4 year old, a two year old and a baby, JUST WAITING. I use to have to pack lunches and snacks or be prepare eat in the cafeteria every visit. The cafeteria staff knew me by name and always came to help me with my load, by the way.

My final straw with this hospital was when a I was getting Boy 2's (Sir-Talks-A-Lot) 4 year old wellness check up done and the day had already gone far too long. The doctor checked him out and sent us to immunizations for those dreaded 4 year old shots. By this time, it was lunch time (we'd been there since 9) and most of the staff had gone to lunch. The wait was sooooo slow, the kids were irritable because they hadn't hadn't had lunch and well Miss Missy was 2. NUFF SAID! The "NEXT" numbers seemed to move so freakin' slow.

So finally after one heck of a long wait, we were called into the room for shots. The nurse looks at us and say, "Are you getting shots? Because I don't do shots on 4 year olds."

WHAT THE HECK DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T DO SHOTS ON FOUR YEAR OLDS? IS IT NOT YOUR JOB TO GIVE SHOTS? AREN'T YOU THE IMMUNIZATIONS NURSE? WHY DID I JUST SIT HERE IN THIS WAITING ROOM FOR OVER AN HOUR IF YOU DON'T GIVE SHOTS TO 4 YEAR OLD?

She must have saw the look on my face, but she didn't care. She continued with, "You're going to have to make an appointment with his doctor to get the shots done."

"The doctor sent me to immunization," is all I could muster up without yelling, crying or cussing this crazy chick out.

IF YOU CAN'T DEAL WITH FOUR YEAR OLDS, YOU NEED TO FIND A NEW JOB!

"Sorry, you're going to have to get an appointment with your doctor."

My eyeballs must have been FIRE RED as I stormed out of that office and went straight to Tricare to change my doctor. I wanted an off-post doctor and never have to go through the mess I dealt with with the military doctors again!

After signing the papers for a change, I immediately went to patient care and filed a complaint. The rep was shocked with the immunization nurse's "policy", called back down there and demanded I be taken care of ASAP and NOBODY had the right to decide which patients they wouldn't see.

Guess I showed her!

Got the boy's shots done by another nurse and have since been happy with our new OFF-POST physician.

Until Yesterday............

My Brother the Scholar

My brother and dad

I'm proud of my little brother. He is back in school. Studying accounting, hoping to also obtain a Degree in Business Management.



He's making straight A's, of couse, as he always did in high school.



He use to make me sick coming home all eager to show Mama his report card filled with A's, meanwhile I was hiding mine in my locker and claiming I forgot it or couldn't find it in a desperate attempt to prolong my 6 week punishment sentence for another day.



He's always been the book smart one. My parents great hope. The one that was suppose to go to college and become something. A doctor or a basketball player. That's what he use to say he wanted to be.



Let's just say, thank goodness he was smart.



The boy had the potential to do anything he wanted to do. He went to college. He dropped out.



The herb kills your brain cells, ya know.



But, now after all these years, he is back at it. Trying to achieve something. Getting good grades. Flying through the classes. He has goals. He has dreams. Not to be a basketball player. Not to be a doctor.



TO BE A RAPPER.



Seriously?



A producer/rapper?



The boy's brain cells are just shot! Either that or his dreads are too tight.........











but if he so happens to make it, I'mma be the main one saying, That's my BROTHER! I KNEW he counld do it! LOL!

Somebody Prayed

"I got the results to my MRI yesterday."

Every time I hear these words I stop breathing. Every since my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer, I can't help but be afraid... of what the future holds.

Every time he gets his results, he calls me with those words.

He pauses. That pause always calls for more concern. It's not really a long pause, but to me, the time it takes him to speak again seems like forever.

"It's clear. It's allllll goooooood."

I smile, because I know that it could be worse. I know that it SHOULD be worse based on what the doctors have said, based on the tons of information I went through on the Internet. It should be worse.

But God Is Good!

"The doctors are amazed. They can't believe that the test keep coming back clean."

"Somebody has been praying for you."

We both start singing, "Somebody prayed for me. They me on their mind. Took the time to praaay for me! I so glad they prayed! I'm so glad they prayed! I'm so glad they praaaayed for me!"

I want to cry every time I get these results because I know how blessed we are. It's been about a year and a half since I got the news. Stage 4 Brain Cancer and my dad is doing just fine.

I know that it is God's work because there simply is no other explanation.

I prayed so hard that he would be okay. And God does answer prayers. I know that now.

When everyone kept saying that he would be okay, I had so many doubts. I didn't want to hear it. What did they know. I'd read the research. I'd seen the look of doom in the doctor's eyes. I'd heard the diagnosis of a grim future. I didn't believe, or at least couldn't see where they could possibly know how that was true.

I stopped listening to them. I stopped listening to the doctors and the studies and the research, and right now, I'm listening God. And He is doing his THANG!

Let's talk Food

Food was on my mind when I woke up. I'd programmed my TV to turn to Cook Yourself Thin at 8 this morning. I swear that show always has me saying, I can make that! And it makes me wanna cook healthier for my family with things they might actually eat.

Ahh, maybe I'll start tomorrow.

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Last night I made spaghetti for dinner. It's always a hit with the kids. This time I decided to try it with the turkey again. I made it with turkey once, right after I'd discovered that good things do come from turkey meat, and it didn't go over to well with the husband.


We had just had turkey tacos for the first time and he LOVED them, without knowing it was turkey. When I told him that my masterpiece meal didn't come from a cow, he vowed that we'd only have turkey tacos from that point on.

Well, a few days later I tried the turkey out on my spaghetti and he said that he liked the turkey with the tacos, but no so much with the spaghetti. My mistake was that I told him first.

So it was back to the beef.

Well, this time I snuck in the turkey again.

Hubs didn't have much to say while eating. He's never been a big spaghetti eater, not like me who LOVES spaghetti, pasta and Italian foods more than I love sleeping! At the end of his second plate, he said, "This is the best spaghetti you've ever made, I think. What did you do different?"

"Nothing," I lied. He is more into the turkey thing now than he was when we first started, but I didn't want him to know my secret just yet. After all, after finding out it was turkey the last time, he criticized and said it wasn't good!

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This morning, after a REAL workout and not a half-a$$ed one, I had a burst of energy. I made the kids pancakes and made like a TON of them to freeze. I NEVER waste my money on frozen pancakes. Waffles, yeah, cause I don't own a waffle iron, but not pancakes. I ka Butt Load of them and freeze them, that way they can pop them in the microwave and I don't have to listen to the whole I DON'T WANT CEREAL crap while I'm busy trying to blog clean.



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Today, I'm actually gonna make that chocolate cake I've been wanting to make. I've had Duncan Hines sitting on my counter taunting me for days telling me how much he LOVES me and how much he I WANT him and how GOOD he's gonna be for me. I've resisted. Well, kinda. The other day I broke, but when I opened the fridge there were only two eggs. The box said 3. I reluctantly decided to wait.

So today, I might not be "cooking myself thin", but I'm gonna make up for it with a salad for dinner, SO THERE!

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Can anyone explain to me the concept of buying Eggland's Best eggs over the store brand?

I'm having trouble figuring that out. They don't taste different. Were they layed by a more elite chicken? Maybe one that was raised on Evian and cavier? Are these chicken getting a daily massage? Are they from a royal bloodline?

Eggs are eggs are eggs! I don't understand the concept of buying the more expensive brand expecting them to be a different egg. Same goes for milk. What's the difference between Walmart milk and saaaay Colbert? All cows are milked in the same way, right? Shouldn't all milk taste the same?

Just wondering. I'm all for saving money, so I go store brand in things that I can't tell the difference. Eggs are eggs, People!

Where did imagination go?

Summer has kicked in and already I can see how the kids' brains have turned to MUSH. Not just my kids, but kids in general.

I can remember when summer kicked in and I just couldn't wait to get my butt outside and play, all day, every day! We played from the time our mom would let us out the door until the STREET LIGHTS came on. And I don't really remember coming in the house unless it was raining. You know why? You remember how Mama was! IF YOU BRING YOUR BUTT BACK IN THIS HOUSE ONE MORE TIME YOU'RE GONNA STAY IN!

And we didn't want to stay in! Okay, granted, I do live in the south now, and not in the north like when I was a child, and the sweltering heat may very well give the kiddos a heat stroke if they tried to stay out there as long as we did, but THERE IS A WATER HOSE OUT THERE! Do like we did. Everybody go to one person's house and take a swig from the hose and keep it movin'!

Kids nowadays WANT to be in the house! Sir Talks-A-Lot will go outside and comeback in the house in about 30minutes complaining of nothing to do.

Where has imagination gone? Where has Hide and Go Seek, Mother May I and Red Rover gone? We didn't need Rip Sticks and basketball goals to keep us occupied. We had this strange contraption called, get this..... IMAGINATION.

Remember that?

I guess that now that kids have Wii and Playstations, DS's and Xbox's, the imagination is gone. These games do the thinking for them.

I can't stand hearing how bored my kids are, even in the house because it tells me that they are not thinking.

But outside? There's a HUGE world of nothing but adventure when you walk out the front door. A plethora of opportunities to create whole new worlds of adventure. (can you tell I played by myself a lot?)

Would you believe they had no idea how to play RED LIGHT GREEN LIGHT last summer?

I'm surely not gonna let them sit up and rot their brains,watching TV and playing video games all summer. They are going to have to learn to be creative and think of ways to entertain themselves like we did.

So Red Light Green Light is lame, you say? Well let's play FOLD THE STACK OF LAUNDRY, DUST THE TABLES, or CLEAN THE BASEBOARDS instead. How about that? We can make a day out of it, how about that? No one will be board anymore!

I'm hoping to bring back imagination this summer. Hoping the neighborhood kids will join in. Because my carpets can't take the constant in and out and my ears can't take one more whinin' I'M BORED!