Friday, October 17, 2014

Triple Decker Sandwich



 sand-wich gen-er-a-tion
 noun
   a generation of people, typically in their thirties or forties, responsible for bringing up their own children and for the care of their aging parents.
HOW DO I LOOK AS A SANDWICH

OK, number one,even though i almost failed nouns and verbs,  the above definition is no noun, that description is an action  verb if I've ever spotted one.

Number two, yes I know I'm not in my thirties or forties!!!!

Number three, throw in a grandchild in the mix and that must make me a triple decker club sandwich.

I had to giggle the other day when I opened up the back of my car and this is what it looked like...........

Yup, you're seeing right, a car seat, a potty seat and a bathtub seat and let's not forget the walker.
 
I'm crazy thankful along with just plain crazy that I am able to be sandwiched between 5 year old Wyatt and 93 year old Rose, my precious mamma.
 
The Bible says, "Children's children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children. " Proverbs 17:6  NIV
                                                           
                                                              IN OTHER WORDS

 MY PRIDE AND JOY

MY CROWN (although I'm not aged)
 Wyatt is my crown and my mom is my pride and joy.  
     Proverbs 17:6
   according to me 


KEEP LAUGHING, ITS GOOD MEDICINE




Thursday, September 25, 2014

C for Crude OR Bladders and Bowels

Alert, warning, proceed with caution......if you are like me and would like to never ever hear or talk about "bodily functions", stop now and read no further, if not, you have been warned.

Our sweet 93 year old mom fell and broke her hip 2 weeks ago.   Since that time I have been walking around with a slight  color of green tinting my face.  You see, I run from medical issues involving anything below the waist not to mention hospitals and most of all the talk you have to hear in hospitals.  I was the girl who passed out and walked into walls when I had blood drawn as a kid.  Of course, all that changed when Alyrose came along and took over the passing out role, I had to stop passing out so I could catch her when she was passing out.  And please don't ask me personal questions about my body and some of the things it does.  I DO NOT SPEAK ABOUT IT AND I SURE DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT YOURS EITHER.  I may be wrong but I don't believe any of those "things" happened until after our dear sister of long ago Eve had to eat that fruit.  Why oh why Eve did you fall for it, there were plenty of other trees that you had been enjoying????  It was all so beautiful before.  There was no need to talk about "bodily functions", I just want to believe there were none. I think right after God cursed the serpent he turned the forbidden tree in the middle of the garden into a prune tree???? Sorry Robin, I know you married a weird O, I just can't turn it off.

Anyway, getting back to Mother, and more about her later, we spent 4 days in the hospital in Fredericksburg and now rehabing  for a couple of more weeks before we can break her out of there and get her home.  But while we were there, I had to endure more talk and more listening to "that subject" than I ever want to endure again.  And the dreaded subject is, if I must say it, gas, tee tee, and big potty.  Does everything in the hospital have to be measured by these things?  Can't they just be satisfied by your temperature and blood pressure?  It's like people are casually talking about the weather," good morning, nice day outside, isn't it? " But in the hospital, it's like"good morning, have you had a you know what today?"  Such a personal question.  All the while, I'm turning green and want to run out screaming with my hands over my ears yelling LA LA LA LA LA!!!!!!

Growing up, we didn't make "noises" and laugh or have contests to see who could make the biggest "noise".  My dad was a true gentleman and didn't think crassness was funny nor does my husband.  When my dad was really naughty he would tell the story of his uncle who would say pull my finger ( you all know the result of that) and then daddy would giggle like a girl and mom would say, " Oh Bill", but that was the extent of that kind of talk.  I'm grateful for that.  Why is that subject so funny?  I don't get it but I'm glad I have a husband who agrees and hasn't taught our boys to embarrass themselves and others by thinking  that is funny to do in public.  (Boys you'd better not be doing that!!!!!!!!)  Ok, so I'm completely rambling.

Bottom line, I'm completely grossed out by all subjects that have to do with the lower half of the body.  #1, #2, #3 and  #4- don't want to hear about it, discuss it or even think about it.  The subject brings greeness and repulsion immediately so needless to say, hospitals are not where I choose to stay.  But because I would do anything for my mom, I volunteered for the first 2 nights in the hospital.  I forgot to ask for the sound proof room so unfortunately I was privileged to hear everything going on in the rooms on either side of mom.  I will also say that both occupants of the adjourning rooms were men and we all know what babies men are.  Moaning and groaning while my little mom doesn't utter  one sound after having  a rod hammered into her hip, well except the small detail when she decided to rip out her IV, gently lay it on the bed and look at me and ask who I was. It was me doing the moaning and groaning then. Wow mom, that was so rude of you, how could you forget your middle child?

The guy on one side of the wall was a moaner so I had to listen to that all night long bringing on my need to "throw out" instead of up, as one of my kids used to call it.  I acknowledge the fact that I sound really merciless right now but really guy, just suffer in silence please, there are people trying to sleep.  The guy on the other side was a real big mouth. I could hear everything he said and let me tell you, I know more about that guy than anyone ever needed to know.  I finally had to sneak over and have a peak at him.  He was always bellowing and telling about his different hats he wore among other unspeakables.  The day I stole a glance into his room he had on a hot dog hat with a giant wiener on it. He must have been from the back woods of Fredericksburg judging by his grammar.  Again, I'm sorry for my absence of mercy, I'm sure all of this will happen to me when I'm old because I'm a judger.  Some of his lovely comments to the nurse were............please don't read this out loud to your children, they are easily influenced and it will be repeated one day when you least expect it.........." Am I peein okay? "  or how about this " I didn't pass no gas ".  Then there was the other conversation that was heard between the nurse and the moaner--Nurse: "PLEASE, do not pull that out.  If you pull it out, it will bleed and your pee pee will not close up and you will not be able to control your pee any more because it will open your pee pee up so you can't feel it anymore.  So PLEASE PLEASE don't pull that out." or this one, NO FORGET IT, IT IS JUST TOO OVER THE TOP TO REPEAT.  I'VE OFFENDED ENOUGH OF YOU NOT TO MENTION THE HORROR OF RETELLING  IT.


So you now know why you were warned not to read this post if you are as grossed out as easily as me.  Please forgive me if I have totally offended you all and you never want to see or hear from me again.  I just needed to share my pain with someone and that someone is YOU.

LAUGHTER IS GOOD MEDICINE.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

WELL HOW ABOUT THAT!!!!

We are in full wedding planning mode at our house.  Just in case you haven't heard, Cassidy's heart has been stolen by her knight in shining armor.  She will become Mrs. Dorian Sandoval on November 15.  To read their story, check out her blog, www.makethedaybright.blogspot.com, and read I said yes, She said yes.
Dorian, Cassidy's knight in shining armor

But she'll always be daddy's girl

they say you marry a man like your daddy, guns and all

Because of this upcoming event, I have all the latest mother of the bride what to do books at my fingertips.  I'm constantly checking the etiquette  books of what to do and what not to do along with ways not to become the dreaded mother in law.  Who wants to be remembered with that title?  Certainly not me.  So I'm still asking God to put a guard over my mouth and a watch over the doors of my lips.  Ps 141:3

We're pretty much on schedule with all the things on  the "to do" lists.  Phew.  Choose this person, find these things, decide on this color and the list goes on and on.  Fun, but on and on.  Cassidy is doing an amazing job at making those decisions. It is surprising somewhat, this is the girl that had to go to 10 different office supply places just  to pick out her school supplies, so I thought the decision making process might be a wee bit challenging but she proved me wrong.  Good girl daughter. 

So last week I was checking in my handy dandy planning book again to see what needs to happen next.  I'm sure Cass is wanting to tell me I have too much time on my hands but she is also practicing the fine art of asking God to put a guard over her mouth and a watch over the door of her lips especially with me, her marmes that loves her so much and does have too much time on her hands.  So after reviewing my book, I was met with the news that there should already have been a shower planned and that these days it is acceptable for the mother of the bride to give the shower.  A shower, me? At our house? Oh no, more things on Robin's to do list.  Fix the hole in the wall where the deer head fell off and smashed into the table breaking the table in two ( Wyatt is positive that it wasn't the football that he threw that knocked it off the wall), get the upholstery cleaned from  Remington the dog laying on it and giving it that luscious dog smell, stash all the junk in the closets that have already been stashed in,  and fix the broken chandelier lights that that same football didn't crash into thrown by that same little treasured boy.  How would we ever get it done?  Then I remembered Janet's lost green dress in God's big ol' ocean and how she simply asked God to show His power and rescue that dress for her.  If you missed that blog post, scroll on down or up??? and read Here's a God story for you.  So I just thought, you know, if Janet can pray for her lost dress in the ocean, I can pray for God to prompt someone who doesn't have to stash their junk to bless Cassidy and Dorian with a shower.  Now, I know my prayer life differs somewhat from Janet's because Janet prays and then she waits on the Lord to answer her prayer.  She just lays it at His feet and waits expectantly.  Since I want to be like my little sister when I grow up, actually both sisters, I thought I would  try that prayer approach because I know that God really does care about the little things.  OK, I'm going to just throw out my sin here for all to see.  So I reminded the Lord, like He needed to be reminded,  that He had shown His power when He fished that dress out of the ocean and could He show us His power and fish out a shower giver for us?  I thanked Him for what He was about to do and then I, like Janet, waited expectantly............for about 10 minutes.  Why must I always insist on helping God, what is wrong with me?  I totally trust Him but I can't turn off my brain.  I started thinking of all the people who love Cassidy  and  would help with a shower, I could just call them or I could just ..................pssst, hey excuse me Cathy, remember, you were going to wait on me? .... Heavy sigh on my part.... Ok, Lord, I hear you, I get it.  I wish I could confess that this only happened once but it pretty much repeated itself for a few days until I finally convinced my brain to give it a rest.  AND THEN.......... I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.  Ps 40:1

Yep, you guessed it, I backed out and He backed in.  We've got two bridal showers and the only phone call I had to make was using my direct line to my Abba God.  

       WHEN WILL I EVER LEARN?




Sunday, July 27, 2014

THANK YOU ROBIN FOR 31 YEARS

As of July 23rd, I've been married to the cute guy I met at the swimming pool for 31 years.  Let's just take a stroll back in time to that day in Beaumont Texas where I met my future main squeeze.  Is that disrespectful?  It must have been the summer of 1981, I had just graduated from college and was loving living on my own in my first apartment.  I had been in a million weddings and a million house parties and time was a tickin.  I was ready for it to be my turn but I had no prospects and the fact that I was out of school and hadn't met Prince Charming yet narrowed my chances considerably.  I know, I know, I tell girls all the time that God will send your knight when you least expect it, so relax and wait on Him.  That was totally not what I was doing.  sorry Lord.  So after yet again, another heart break, I called Carol and interrupted her dinner party with boo hoos.  I have no recollection about what she said to her forlorn sis except for me to pray.  I do know that it wasn't a casual pray about it, but she really meant it.  So that night I did have a conversation with the author and perfecter of my faith and explained my predicament to Him.  Like I really needed to explain anything to Him.  I told him that I really was tired of this dating mess and having my heart ripped apart, so if He didn't have someone for me soon I really thought I just wanted to join the peace corp and change the world.  Little did I know that my world would change the next day.

The next day arrives and I'm laying by the swimming pool preparing my skin for future wrinkles.  I think there were probably still some tears trickling down my face from my recent dumpage.  It was a Sunday afternoon  so there were several people out enjoying the day.  There was one really cute guy a few chairs over studying.  I think I remember him speaking to me when I came out.  I'm not sure how long I had been out but people started leaving and the cute guy with the gold swimming suit on introduced himself and struck up a conversation. Robin, you sly thing you. We started talking and soon I had a date for dinner. Pitter patter pitter patter, that's my heart beating.  Peace corp, what peace corp?  It's so funny the things I remember about that night.  One, I remember not really knowing what to wear, ok, that's a typical girl.  Jeans, skirt, fancy, not fancy?  So I dressed and decided I would peak from the window and if he was really dressed up I would race back to my room and change really fast.  So as the really cute guy got out of his pick up and started up the side walk to my door, I was totally checkin him out.  Robin, did you know that?  Bet cha can't remember what you had on?  He had on a white pearl snapped cowboy shirt, tight starched blue jeans, but who was lookin, and python snake boots.  I have no idea what I had on but I couldn't pull myself away from that sight to go change so I guess I was dressed appropriately.  The second problem of the night was I had no idea what his name was.  Girls, don't try this at home, never go on a date with a guy that you can't remember his name.  It was a huge problem because I couldn't keep referring to him as the cute guy by the swimming pool.  Thankfully I didn't have to introduce him to anyone at Bennigans, that could have been a wee bit awkward. But that problem was also partially solved when he put his credit card on the table to pay and I did a quick look see to discover his name was Robin but couldn't see what my future last name was.  Rats. It was later discovered that there was another problem about that night.  When I asked cute boy where he was from, he told an untruth Liar Liar, pants on fire. For some reason, he wasn't all too proud of his hometown of Vidor, home of the area KKK.  I guess I really can't blame him on that one.  Hmmm, I need to think about this...... I'm out on a date with a guy that I have no idea what his name is and he's already hiding things from me..........but man is he cute and such a gentleman.  I decided he needed a second chance which came quickly.  I think it was just a couple of days later when he asked me out again.  Armed with the knowledge of his first name, this time my mission was to discover his last name.  He picked me up again in his gold pick up truck with the rainbow in the back window and no air conditioning.  Really Robin, no air conditioning?  It was quiet a challenge to try to look good and sweat. How long do you have to date before you suggest taking your own car with the air conditioning?  It wouldn't be so hard on my hair sprayed hair.  Anyway,  Robin's lie was quickly revealed when we drove to Vidor to meet his grandparents and my future dad and mom in law.  BUSTED.  He WAS from Vidor. Oh well, he's still cute and still a gentleman so I'm not giving up yet, but still no last name. think think think, how to discover his last name without having to embarrass myself and admit I sunk low enough to go on a date with an unnamed cute guy.    Bingo, a prescription bottle was sitting on the table with his grandmother's name on it. Chesser, my last name was going to be Chesser. Tee hee, this is the same grandmother that would tell me years later that when Robbie first brought me around they didn't think I was very cute but later they decided I was.  Thank you???? 
           ***************************************************
Thank you Robin for 31 years of marriage.  A younger woman asked me the other day if marriage ever gets any better or easier.  Better, yes yes yes, easier no.  I told her there are seasons when it's easier and there are seasons when it's harder. Challenges of  new babies then teens then young adults, up all night, then up all night and still up all night, trusting God and trusting God and trusting God.  I told her with every challenge Robin and I have made the commitment that we would not let Satan divide us and we haven't.  He has tried and failed and we know he will continue to try.  He will attack our family and that's where it hurts, knocking us to our knees, exactly where God wants us to be, on our knees before Him.

Thank you Robin that I never once was afraid of you walking away from me and our children.  You are our safe place.

Thank you Robin that you can still roll your eyes and admit that you are still trying to figure out what's going on in my head and why I can't turn it off but you understand me better than anyone and love me anyway.
  
And especially thank you for never quoting King Soloman in the Song of Songs to me by saying "I liken you Cathy, my darling, to a mare harnessed to one of the chariots of Pharoah." or "Your hair, Cathy, is like a flock of goats descending from Gilead.  Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing."  

Thank you Robin that you never told me I was like a constant dripping on a rainy day and that you were ready to move to the desert to get away from your quarrelsome and ill tempered wife that it talks about in Proverbs.  I'm sure I was the picture of both of those things at times.  Please forgive me.

In a world of discarded marriages, we have accomplished much, only by the hand of God.  31 glorious years and 31 years of deer seasons and still together.  Glory be to God.

I love you my husband.  Let's stay in the battle together, shall we?



So glad I discovered his name.  We were 25 and 28.

No peace corp for me!!!!

My daddy who modeled what kind of man to look for.

My mom who modeled what kind of wife to be.

Man is he cute, no wonder our children are so beautiful, looks just like him.
Daddy's girls and still best friends.


Till death do us part.         Not 25 and 28!


Monday, July 21, 2014

DEFINATELY NOT MY FINEST HOUR

Who would have ever "thunk" it? Turns out, My Seth, our Bill Miller taco eatin , fishin', huntin', tobacci chewin' son, is a sushi connoisseur.  He continues to surprise his mama. To prove his ability, he treated us to Sushi Zushi, well he didn't actually treat us, we just went as a family and he ordered for us.  My only request was nothing raw.  I'll spare you the details of the report I read of the various things that can grow in stomachs and the removal of these creatures after consumption of bad sushi, my nostrils are flaring and  my lip is curling a little just thinking about it.  

Our food arrived and looked quiet delicious.  There was a sampling of several different types, mostly seafood but some beef for Robin who wasn't quiet "feeling" the whole sushi thing.  The fish ones were my favorite but then I decided I would try one of the beef ones.  I can't really recall much about this one, due to oxygen deprivation, but it had big chunks of beef in it.  I asked if there were knives that went along with the chopsticks but no one responded so i came to the conclusion that I wouldn't need a knife.  THAT WAS ONE BAD CONCLUSION.  As I popped a beef one in my mouth and took a couple of chews, I knew I was in trouble.  The more I chewed, the bigger the occupant of my mouth became.  The card catalog of my mind started its scan, trying to recall what the etiquette books say about spiting half a cow into your napkin at a restaurant and then where to place the napkin.  Do you steal the napkin and hide it in your purse  or do you leave it on the table to gross out the poor guy that has to clean off the table?  I recalled no answer!  So I continued to chew and sweat at the same time, all the while faintly aware of the conversations around the table.  At last part of the chunk separated and hallelujah I was able to swallow that chunk or so I thought.  As the other part continued to grow, this one got stuck in my throat.  I tried chugging my water with no luck.  I wondered if I could find the restroom but I couldn't speak to ask where it wasMy life was flashing before my eyes and my cherished family had no idea what was going on.  And who in their right mind really wants someone to do the Heimlich remover on them in front of everyone, how embarrassing  would that be,  my children would never go anywhere with me again.  I HAD TO GET THAT COW OUT OF MY MOUTH.  I quietly reached for my napkin, covered my mouth and began the extraction process, still wondering what I would do about the one lingering in my air passage.  DISCLAIMER, THIS NEXT PART IS NOT FOR THE WEAK OF STOMACH !!!  So as lady like as possible, not that that is possible, I tried spitting the one piece into my napkin (I'm laughing so hard right now but also grossing myself out all over again).  To that one chunk of spit out beef,gross, was a nasty string of cow gut, sick, or muscle, eww, or whatever it was, disgusting,  still attached to the lodged piece so I had to reach in and pull that out of my almost closed off airway passage and add that to the already full napkin. I warned you. As I sat in silence, holding the napkin in question, the hilarity of the situation hit me and I started laughing hysterically, like the ugly cry but ugly laughter instead.  I had to cover my face with my hands, no napkin,because I knew it was a scary, face contorting, laugh.  My shocked family just stared in question at their mom and wife. Just stared, shocked, afraid...... Alyrose and Cassidy finally joined me in crazy eye watering questioning laughter......guys not so much. 

I'm sorry that you just read much more about me than you ever needed to know.  This was not my finest hour. I also hope it wasn't one of those "you had to be there" stories. I hope that you laughed the ugly laugh because remember LAUGHTER IS GOOD MEDICINE.

LOVE TO YOU ALL

Monday, July 14, 2014

Here's a God Story For Ya

Wow, do I love my sisters!!!  One is older and one is younger.... I really want to be like them when I grow up.  They are my spiritual role models.  I never bring a concern or problem to them without knowing that I will be wrapped in prayer right then and there.  I'm so thankful for them.  While I'm busy whining, pacing, rubbing my hands together, thinking it to death and whining some more, they are on their knees talking to the One who already knows.  I am wowed at what God does through them and for them.  I know He would do the same for me (and He does) if I would just put a sock in it and take it to Him instead of the things I do, like whine, complain, talk it to death and then, oh yeah, take it to Him.  Why am I the slow learner of the family?  

Anyway, my little sister Janet sent me this sweet God story that she had sent to a friend of theirs the other day.    I really wanted to pretend it happened to me so I could blog about it ( do all happenings turn into blog posts now?) but decided that that was no bueno so I'll just copy and paste and let ya'll enjoy it also.  Just in case you haven't discovered Magnolia Pearl,that's who Janet sent the letter too, she's the giver of the dress, check out her website, www.magnoliapearl.com  Her clothes are fabulous and I covet them, I know, thou shalt not covet, oops.  Ok,  here goes Janet's story.  Oh drat, one more thing,  Liza, Beecher, Asa, and Ezra are her children just so you know the characters.

                              ******************************

"So a while back, my incredible sisters' incredible friend gave her an incredible Magnolia Pearl dress, which my sis then passed on to me this very weekend.  I felt really really cute in it!!  I wore it to church today here in Rockport and then I wore it around Fineviw (other sisters beach house) and my husband told me how cute I looked, extra perk.  I then wore it down to the pier and thought I would soak in a little sun for a few minutes close to dusk. ahhh. Taking off my new fab dress, I decided to bask in my cami and cute little underskirt, carefully rolling up my oh so fine dress to place under my sleepy head.  I dozed for a few minutes, and thinking I might be beginning to look a little like a roasted marshfellow, I sat up to assess the situation.  The moment I sat up, a gust of wind suddenly swooshed my beautiful new mossy green dress right into the sea.  SCREEECH!!  Falling 5 feet from the pier, the mossy green bundle floated momentarily, then dropped into the murky water.  Poised in my cami and little skirt to leap into the water to save my newfound treasure, I spied EIGHT (at least) creepy jellyfish awaiting my arrival into the water.  Aw!! I just couldn't make myself jump...I just couldn't.

So I yelled for Liza who brought the fishing net, along with her courageous brother Ezra who braved the large waves and strong current in his kayak to SAVE my Magnolia Pearl fab new mossy green dress!!  I watched the shadow of the dress as it sunk to the bottom without a trace. glug, glug. glug.  We searched and searched, dragging the net along the bottom, but could not find my new treasure.  Liza and I ran to the neighbor's pier, thinking we might catch the dress as it floated by in the strong current, but though we searched, that beautiful creation was nowhere to be seen.  wahhh!  I wanted to cry, but instead the Lord reminded me to pray and so Beecher, Ezra, Liza and I prayed that He would show us where that dress was in that great big sea.  We finally gave up after watching and waiting for half an hour.  The kids went back over to our pier leaving me feeling a bit defeated and a little mad about it.  I was telling God that I knew that dress was just a little thing, but would He please just show me a miracle to increase my faith and the faith of my children.  I was also praying about another issue and I just wanted Him to show Himself faithful so that I could SEE His faithfulness (which of course He always is anyway, whether I see it or not).

I decided (you know because of HIS prompting) to take one more look over the edge of the neighbors pier and as I walked down the pier, I was begging God to do something big...How could I really expect to find that little dress in that big ol' sea????  But I was also thinking about how the disciples fished all night and caught nothing. Then Jesus came up and said, "Throw your nets on the other side."  So I began to peer into the water on the other side of the pier and as I did, I thought I might be seeing a very faint shadow deep in the water, hmmm.  I summoned Liza and courageous Beecher, who jumped into the kayak and began to row out to where we were.  I was really sure it was my hopeful imagination, but Liza fished around with the net anyway, and lo and behold, just as she brought up the beautiful mossy green Magnolia Pearl dress out of the sea, Beecher rode up with the paddle and rescued THAT DRESS!! What an amazing God we serve!!!  His faithfulness is to ALL generations!  He showed me that He cares about the little things and if He cares so much about the little things, doesn't He care about the big things too!!!

And the neat thing is......I think He put those jellyfish in between me and my dress so He could show me HIS faithfulness.  I could have jumped in and saved my cute new dress...and what a great story for the Magnolia Pearl newsletter:  "Crazed Woman Jumps into Ocean and is eaten alive by Jellyfish to Save her Magnolia Pearl Dress!!"  But God wanted to show me that HE is faithful.  He wanted to do a work through that beautiful new
dress.  He wanted to show me that He cares about my little things and my big things and He has the power to make things happen.  He controls the waves and the current and controlled where I would look so I could see what He was so powerful to do."

Janet in the middle lookin' good in her cute little Magnolia Pearl mossy green dress prior to the rescue
Yay God, thank you for showing all of us your power and how you really do care about the little things.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Starter and Stopper

Is it against the blog law to repeat an old rambling?  Maybe it could be like an old re-run or a best of or how about try it again Tuesday, you know like throw back Thursday?  But whatever it is,  this is a repeat from a couple of years ago, before blogdom.  It made me smile re reading it last week, hope it will do the same for you.

I'm sort of a starter and a stopper or a I'm gonna start doing that but never seem to get to whatever it was I was gonna start doing.......it's a problem.  Every Christmas as a girl I would receive that new diary that was on my Christmas list.  It would always start like, Dear Diary, and then I would pour out my teenage heart felt self to this senseless book, always quiet dramatic. But alas, the diary writing would end after a bit, although those old diaries have allowed for some pretty hefty guffaws in later years.  I also have numerous journals that I started for each baby about their birth and their personalities and their funny comments,picturing what a blessing those would be to their children as they read about their parents growing up, but those also ended much too soon and their stories of growing up never made it to paper. Could that be why they never grew up, just kidding, I KNEW IT WAS ALL MY FAULT, all because of those blasted journals.

So my latest I'm gonna start doing this is a compilation (is that a word?) of all the re-do's, second chances, a do over, try agains and better think through that one again, all the things that I would have liked to have done better as a mom to the world's most bestest children.  It isn't a beat myself up list, but just a "wisdomly" list of the things that I think they could strive to do better on as a parent than I did.  Oh, how do our children ever make it to adulthood fairly "normal" with fallen parents like us, only through the grace of God.  And a whole lot of laughter which is found in our house.

I think the first re do on my list would be to make them do the hard things, like keep their rooms clean.  It's really not asking that much, the room thing.   So many different thoughts on the room thing from the "experts".  Oh wait, maybe the first re do would be to stop always listening to the "experts" and relying more on God's word on raising these little ones.  Some would say it is their personal space so let them do with it as they please. Still  others say, they don't leave the house until the white glove inspection has been done and passed with flying colors.  But years ago as we were all racing out of the door trying to get to school on time with the 5 behind me, I was happy just to know they had their correct uniform socks on and their top button buttoned.  So I adopted the biblical concept of a servants spirit.  I was convinced that if my ever so thankful children saw me serving them and cleaning their rooms they would also adopt this same spirit, bringing me to the question,  "so how's that workin for ya?"  Join me as I drag my haggard self up the stairs and take a tour of our bedrooms where the 5 wee ones have grown into 5 mostly grown ones.

As we approach the first bedroom, use caution and never venture into this room at night without a flashlight.  Every drawer will be open and clothes will be strewn from the drawers and  flowing onto the floor.  Many a bruises will be had by hitting the corners of the open drawers.  AND this room belongs to one that doesn't even live here on a regular basis.  But it also belongs to one who is my hero.  He loves his mother with a passion, even writing a song for me on my birthday and then serenading me with his guitar.  He does hard stuff even when he doesn't want to.  He takes the jobs that won't always be the most fun or fashionable but knows he has to help out.  What a man he is.  He will do great things.

Cautiously step out of that room into the next, hmmm, not bad, just a small stench from Friday night football in the air.  When I enter this room, I often ask myself why is there a pile of dirty clothes right there when there is an empty laundry basket 2 feet away?  I do enter this room with the assurance though that there are no bed bugs taking up residence here because the occupant of this bedroom has done the research.  He says that bed bugs only  live in beds that are made up, therefore, no made up bed....no bed bugs.  Awesome conclusion.  Another awesome thing about this particular room is the awesome guy that lives in it.  He is also my hero.  His smile lights my heart up just like he lights up his opponents on the football field.  It's been said that the last guy you want to go up against on the field is this particular bed bug hater.  He is an encourager to his teammates and plays with a passion.  What  a man he is.  He will do great things.

Two more steps and it's the boy's bathroom, eewwww, lets just close that door.  We don't want to go there.

The nice thing about the next room is you can just select your clothing right off the floor, never having to open the closet or the drawers.  The clean jeans and the dirty jeans all look the same.  The stains tell some serious stories, blood from hunts or stain from the warehouse.  There is a mysterious round circle on one back jean pocket.  There is a number of neatly stacked devotionals on the nightstand, crisp and just waiting to be read, but a collection of Louis Lamoure books scattered and thrown on the floor , pages dog-eared and read.  There is often the sounds of extremely loud alarms going off in this room but the big lump in the bed won't be hearing it, something called hunters ear has made sure of that.  Oh, but the man who takes up space in this room is quiet a man.  He is also my hero.  He loves his mamma and wants to find a girl just like me, so he says.  Like his brother down the hall, he also steps up and does the hard things.  He worked side by side with dad to close and move a warehouse in the 1000 degree weather.  He can often be found on the football field with his younger brother under the Friday night lights encouraging  his brother through yet again, another concussion.  Side by side on the beach, sitting beside #45.  What a man he is.  He will do great things.

Up and around the corner, you will find the room of the only wee one left.  He has a new big boy bed.  This room is scattered with pull ups and big boy "unwear".  This room is a room of much love.  All the uncles gather here to show off their guns, not like pow pow guns, but their muscles.  They are now teaching the wee one to show his.  There is wrestling, sootball ( as the wee one calls it) push ups and chin up contests.Bedtime stories are often heard by a mommy who has worked hard all day to teach others but nestles in bed at night with him to end his day. You might even find her still there in the morning.  And if you notice what he sleeps in, it's his aunts old cheerleader t shirts from elementary school.  The wee one that pitter patters around in this room is also my hero.  He will be a great man because of a papa that cherishes him and 3 big uncles who love him and will teach him the way of the Lord.  What a  man he will be.  He will do great things.

The last room upstairs has housed two daughters of the King.  It began as a cheerleader's room.  With cheer signs on the door and years worth of homecoming mums on the walls, you would enter this room and be greeted with precious words painted on the walls of assurances of her Father's love for her.  My cheerleader now lives on down the road and I'm sure SHE always makes her bed but she left those precious words painted for her older sis,  "The King is enthralled by your beauty, honor Him, for He is your Lord." Ps 45:11  No matter what room she occupies, whether here or there, she remains quiet a young woman.  She too, was often found on the football field on Friday nights.  Lighting up the world with her smile and cheering for the team,often one of her brothers.  She is now coaching younger ones on how to pass on that winning smile but more so passing on her character.  She is my hero, actually my princess.  She is full of love and laughter, attracting others to her and her Lord and Savior.  What a young lady she is.  She will do great things.

Now as the new owner of this room has taken over, there are some challenges but let's just blame it on a new teaching job and a cat that is not so affectionately called the spawn of satan.  Don't venture too close to the bed because the spawn will jump out and climb your bare leg.  The laundry baskets that are scattered around the room serve as great counting games for the wee one and the unmade bed, again with no bed bugs, is always ready to fall into at the end of a long day.  Oh, and the various shoes scattered around the room simply make it easier to find them in the morning.  The teacher in this room has a story to tell.  A story of tough choices and decisions, a love story that is unimaginable between a mommy and a baby.  A baby that changed a family and showed the world,"we can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" or as the wee one says, "I can do it cause Christ God."  She is my hero, what a young woman she is.  She will do great things.

Well, maybe keeping their rooms clean wasn't that big of a deal after all.  But I can venture back a little and say I should have done a little more coaching in the area of letting them do the hard things.  Didn't get that paper typed, I'm sorry.  Can't find that information you need on the Internet, I'm sorry.  Don't have any money for that activity, I'm sorry.  Cant' find your shoes, purse, homework,......head, I'm sorry.  The hardest thing for me to ever do was look at one of my precious children and say, No, I'm sorry, you will have to do it or suffer the consequences.

Can you imagine the day, when the most precious, one and only, beloved Son of God, knelt down, looked up and asked His Daddy God will you "take this cup from me"?  In my small mind it would be like can you come up with another plan, do something different, change your mind, re-think that again, anything?  I bet you could have heard a pin drop in heaven as the angels waited for a reply.  But God, in His undying love for all of His children had to say, no, my son.  His will would be done.  He didn't take that cup from Him.  God didn't want me to have to suffer the consequences for my wretched sin.  He wanted me to join Him in eternity.  What a great and awesome Savior He is.  He did great things.