If-Then Syndrome

Friday, June 29, 2012

  • If only I could meet the right guy and get married, then my life will really start.
  • If only I could buy a house, then I'll feel settled.
  • If only I could get a dog, then this house will feel like a home.
  • If only I could get another dog, then we'll all be happier.
  • If only I could have a baby, then my life will be complete.
  • If only we could sell this hole of a house and move to a better neighborhood, then I'll feel less cramped and safer.
We all do it from time to time, it's a part of our make up.  It's what makes us strive for more.  It fuels our ambitions.  It gives us goals.  In small amounts, it can be a very good thing.  If all we do is constantly look longingly ahead to the future without stopping to appreciate where we are right now, then we're never going to be happy.  That is when we suffer from what I call "If-Then Syndrome."

I read a post on another blog (I can't for the life of me remember the name) about this recently, and it really struck a chord with me.  All of the above statements that are listed are things that I've said to myself countless times over the past thirty-two years, and there are plenty more I could add if I thought hard enough about it.  It wasn't until the past couple of years that I've really started to understand how important it is to be happy with right now though, because right here, right now is right where God wants me to be, for whatever reasons He sees fit.

Sometimes it's incredibly hard to appreciate where we are, compared to where we've been.  Sometimes it's even more difficult because we're going through really horrible things, and we can't begin to comprehend why.  It can be even worse when we try to compare our lives with those of others.

The problem with comparing our lives with others' is that we usually just see the good stuff.  We don't know what the person we may envy has gone through to get where they are.  More often than not, we wouldn't want to have to have survived the peaks and valleys they have.  Of course we have our own peaks and valleys, and those are what make us who we are.   The rough spots in life are what refine us.  We always have the choice of coming through the fire as better people, more compassionate and empathetic with others.  Or we can come through it harder, less maleable, and less likely to be hurt again.  However when we become hard, we also stop growing.   Personally, I never want to stop growing as a person.

God has us where we are for a reason.  Sometimes it's hard to remember and appreciate that.  Sometimes we can't appreciate it until much, much later.  Sometimes we never get to the point where we can appreciate it, because there are some things we just will never understand here on Earth.  Those are the times when we must let stronger arms carry us and then it's not If-Then, but hope that gets us through the tunnel.

Most of the time though, If-Then is a distraction.  It's a distraction from the parts of life that we don't like, but also a distraction from the good too.  No one can ever be really happy if they're continually waiting for their "ship to come in."  For all you know, your ship could have come in, and you were too busy looking ahead to notice it until it's too late.

For Your Friday Viewing Pleasure

The Weed

Thursday, June 28, 2012

At our house, Firecracker has many nicknames besides Firecracker.  Each and every nickname describes her in some way, and she acquires a new one almost every time she does something new.  She's known as "Little," because for now she's the smallest member of our household.  She's known as "Squirt," because things often squirt out of her; the funniest being when B changed her diaper when she was only a week or two old, and she squirted him with projectile poo.  There's also "Screech," like from Saved By the Bell, because a couple of weeks ago she started shrieking or screeching all the time - happy or sad.  One of the newest ones is "Scooter," because she has started rolling around and mostly scooting from place to place on her back.  This isn't the greatest method of mobility, because she can't see where she's going and usually lightly bangs her head into something from Dory's bed to occasionally the coffee table.  Another nickname of hers though is, "The Weed."

Why do we call her The Weed?  Well, because she grows like one!  Seriously, I wish I had done that thing where every month you take a picture of the baby next to something to see how the baby has grown.  I didn't, because honestly when she was born I was a little overwhelmed (and tried very hard not to be) just by the changes in our lives, and at the time I didn't think it was something I wanted to do.  B and I often choose not to do something just because so many people actually do it.

Just this past weekend, we trekked over to the local Carter's store to basically buy her a new wardrobe. When you're buying things for a new baby and getting gifts from people, the clothes usually end at 3M, because you never know what a kid and parents will like after that point.  Already I had replaced all of her footie jammies with 6M in the past month and a half, because she's getting REALLY, REALLY tall!  The jammies are always the first things to be replaced, because they can only stretch out so far.  We managed to wait for onsies and shorts until now.  So she is now wearing size 6M in everything, or so we thought...

The jammies.  Have I mentioned that I have a serious weakness for the cotton sleep and play jammies at Carter's?  I do.  I have an addiction.  I love them all, or almost all of them.  My favorites are the Bee jammies.  She has those in 3M, 6M, and now 9M.  Yes, today I had to go buy her all new jammies.  I have had a hard time zipping them for a week or two now, and last night I could hardly snap the ones with snaps.  She needs to wear the footie jammies, because she scoots all over her crib at night and doesn't stay covered.  If we were to put her in jammies without feet and socks, the socks would be off in seconds.  So we wear what we wear, and I'll be putting all of the 6M jammies, the last of which I just bought a few weeks ago, in a Pampers box soon for safe keeping like I have everything else she has grown out of.

You know the really frustrating part?  B's mom called me Saturday asking if Firecracker needed more jammies, and I thought I was correct when I told her no.  Word to the wise, if you're expecting a baby "Like" Carters on Facebook and sign up for their emails.  Almost every store from Walmart to Target to  JC Penny's, Sears, etc sells Carter's stuff - even if it's under a special label for that store.  You can usually get more clothes cheaper just buying directly from Carter's because they don't have the markup the other stores have.  It's even cheaper than the exact same stuff at TJ Maxx.  Plus, you get coupons all the time and other special discounts.  Trust me, I know.  The girls at Carter's know Firecracker and me by name.  Why do they know us by name?  They know us by name, because Firecracker is growing like a weed; a cute, sweet, silly weed.  That's a good thing though, very good.

"Type A" for Adrienne

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

B's brother and sister-in-law are expecting their first baby any day now, so we're getting to the point where we wonder if a phone call will be "the" phone call.  They're all the way in Colorado, and I'm getting very anxious to meet (at least virtually until September) Firecracker's new cousin.  In fact, I'm getting extremely anxious.  This, of course, sparked the start of one of our infamously interesting conversations.  This one was in regard to the fact that we chose to have Firecracker via C-Section.

I seriously joked to B that I couldn't have had Firecracker natural, because I couldn't have handled not knowing when she was coming.  I told him that we're both so Type A that we just couldn't have handled the waiting game.  We also couldn't have handled waiting until she was born to know if she was a boy or girl either, or at least I couldn't have.

The reasons why we chose to have her Cesarean section are many, many fold.  The first and most important being that I have always been a very, very small person, B has a huge (really, really huge) head and was a fairly big baby, and we knew that Firecracker was going to be a good size baby.  I could elaborate more, and I probably will some day, but not here.  Here I want to laugh at myself a bit.

Another reason why we wanted a Cesarean was because we could schedule it.  Had we not scheduled a c-section for a week before my due date, B probably wouldn't have been home for Firecracker's birth.  He was out of town for work the entire week before she was born, and would probably have had to have been out of town the next week too.  Cesarean or not, Firecracker was coming a week early.  My water broke, and I went into labor a few hours before I was scheduled to check into the hospital.  For that alone, I'm very thankful we scheduled her birth.  Sadly, with the way B's work schedule was then and had been for a couple of years prior to Firecracker's birth, we needed to pencil in her birth so he could be there.  We were the quintessential Type A couple scheduling the birth of our child in that respect.

* I'm so Type A, that I cannot stand chaos.  I love candid photos and the random wonderfulness of life, but I cannot handle chaos of any type.  I like to have order about things.  I like to know where I'm going, what I'm going to do, and what I'll need to do it.  I can only imagine the catastrophe that would have occurred had I not already been prepared for Firecracker's arrival the day she came.  Surely my blood pressure would have skyrocketed, and things would have gone poorly.

* I'm so Type A, I was in denial that I was in labor that morning.  I got around as normal as I could that morning.  I showered, I shaved my legs, I straightened my hair, and I put on makeup.  I was determined to look my best while losing every bit of my dignity.

* I'm so Type A that I liked giving family a definite time when the baby would be born and telling them they were free to arrive at the hospital roughly two and a half hours later.  I would have lost my mind if my mother had been hovering around, trying to be everyone's savior, looking for things to go wrong, and making everything ten times worse.  It was awesome that B and I got to experience Firecracker's birth just the two of us.  I wouldn't have wanted it any other way, because it was our moment, no one else's.

I know, I know.  There are many people who will read this and tell me what a horrible person I am.  Don't care.  I did what was best for my child and for me.  I have no doubt about that, and we're both doing great and have been doing great for the past twenty weeks.  I may joke about it, but I always have been and always will be very happy with the fact that I had a C-section, and that it went so well.  I credit an awesome doctor, nurses, and surgical staff for that though.  I was up and about in no time.  I stopped taking all of my pain meds by the end of the week, and I think I recovered just as quickly, if not quicker, than many people of my stature who have gone ahead with natural child birth.

So anyway, here we are waiting...  I know that's how it's done most of the time, but goodness I'm about to jump out of my skin with the waiting.

Dear Lord, Please Don't Let Her Look Like Snookie and Other Things

Tuesday, June 26, 2012


* Last week we started feeding Firecracker baby food.  No, I'm not making my own baby food.  Remember, I'm not a crunchy mom.  Gerber was good enough for me, and is good enough for Firecracker.  If someone gave me a Baby Bullet, it would probably end up in the attic with our blender, the waffle maker, the slow cooker, and every other small appliance we thought we needed when we first married and used so rarely we haven't missed them

Anyway, back to feeding Firecracker baby food....  She really likes carrots.  She doesn't care much for green beans, and I haven't had the heart to make her try peas yet, since I personally find peas revolting.  She does like her carrots though, and when I told my mom she mentioned something that we of course didn't give any credence to - like 95% of what my mom says.  She told us that if she eats a lot of carrots and other orange or yellow baby food, she could turn orange.

Again, we didn't believe her, but B's mom mentioned basically the same thing.  Apparently you really are what you eat.  It doesn't hurt babies, they just turn a little orange.  So, now I'm having waking nightmares of walking upstairs to Firecracker's room some morning and finding not my sweet baby girl in her crib, but Snookie smiling up at me.

Are you shuddering yet?  I am.

*  With Independence Day coming next week, I made the call to our vet today to get Lucy a prescription for something to help with her anxiety over fireworks.  She's such a good, sweet dog, but fireworks scare her to death.  We're afraid that she'll have a heart attack some time from the anxiety if we don't do something, and we'd also like to be able to enjoy the holiday with Firecracker some.  So, I'm taking her in Friday, so she can get a controlled substance.  I pray that it works, though I'm not looking forward to having a dopey dog next week.  Of course a dopey Lucy for a week is better than having no Lucy at all.

Don't forget that the busiest day for animal shelters is July 5'th, because so many pets get scared and run away from home.  If you're a pet parent, be extra careful next week.


*Thankfully, for the first Monday in three weeks, Lucy and Dory didn't catch and accidentally kill a baby robin yesterday.  That has started to become a thing, albeit one that I don't enjoy at all.  They catch the poor little bird trying to learn to fly in our back yard, they play keep away with it, they accidentally break the bird's neck, they try to perform CPR on it (I'm not kidding), and I end up having to retrieve it with the pooper scooper and put it in the garage trash if I don't have to put it out of its misery first.  Thankfully I only had to do that once, a few years ago.  It was quite a sight, I'm sure.  I was in my work clothes and fuzzy slippers, standing in the front yard (to get the bird away from the dog - only Lucy was here at the time) shooting the poor bird repeatedly with a bb gun that had no power to it whatsoever.  The one good thing about this happening on Mondays is that the trash is picked up on Tuesday, so we don't have to live with dead bird stink in the garage.

*  As long as we're on the subject of the dogs and Firecracker, I have something sweet to share.  Almost every afternoon before a nap, I'll take Firecracker upstairs, sit indian style with her so she can practice sitting, and I'll read a book to her.  Well, Lucy and Dory decided to get in on the action, and now we have a full room of sleepy eyes during story time.

*  Tonight is B's first softball game with his company's team.  He hasn't played in a long time and hasn't been to any practices, but I think he'll end up having fun.  It's going to be insufferably hot, but Firecracker and I hopefully will get to go watch at least one of his games tonight.  Thankfully the softball fields aren't far from home.  Maybe I'll have something funny to share tomorrow too.

*  I'm trying to not complain about the heat, because I'm fairly certain a year or two ago I wished it would stop raining for a bit.  However, it's now getting too hot to do pretty much anything outside, especially with little Firecracker.  I had to run to the store and exchange a wrongly marked outfit of hers at Carter's yesterday, and getting her in and out of the car over and over in the middle of the day was almost excruciating.  I foresee a couple months of our being hermits in the near future.  We may get out some, like Saturday morning we have the first ever Miles for Miller walk, but not much else unless it's to sit on a sprinkler, in a shade, eating a sno cone.

*  I'll leave you with the knowledge that thus far, the Firecracker has yet to morph into some freaky Snookie Monster.  She just has a habit of falling asleep while watching her boyfriend, Mickey Mouse, in her jumparoo.

A Verb Too Few Practice: Parent

Monday, June 25, 2012




By now, everyone who doesn't live on a mountain top somewhere with only their trusty goat companion has heard the news story about Karen Klein, the bus monitor who was bullied mercilessly and to tears by children.   It has brought about a call to action to teach children more about not bullying in schools and an unbelievable show of support for Ms. Klein.

What those kids did is horrible, no doubt.  They should be punished by their parents for treating anyone in the manner shown in the video.  However, I don't think that there should be yet another class teaching them not to bully at school.  I'm pretty sure they hear enough of that these days when they need to be focusing on academics.  This happened not because of any failing on the school's part, but the parents'.

You see, if we don't want our children to treat people, any age, race, or heritage in such a manner, then our kids need to learn respect, kindness, and compassion.  Those things shouldn't have to be taught in school.  Our children should be taught how to read, how to do math, and about Paul Revere in school.  They should learn these basic fundamentals of life at home from us.  We are our children's' first and most influential teachers.

There's a reason why kids who grow up in abusive homes are more likely to be abusive parents.  That's all they know.  Telling a child to "do as I say, not as I do," doesn't work.  Doing right in front of your child and leading by example will.  If you want your child to respect others, to treat them with kindness, to show love, then do it yourself.

Parent isn't just a noun. It's also a verb.  It's the act of raising a child.  Raising a child isn't all cute outfits, and chauffeuring to little league sports, dance lessons, and other activities, or at least it shouldn't be.  It's teaching a child what the word "no" really means.  It's helping him or her to understand that life isn't always fair.  It's teaching them to accept that there are always going to be winners and losers in different things in life and to be gracious either way.  It's showing them how to have compassion for others, to love one another as we've been commanded, to judge not, lest they be judged, to do to others as you would have done to you.  If you want your child to be a good friend, then you have to be a good friend.  Lead by example.  Every once in a while, go out of your way to support someone else.  Be selfless, not selfish.


I'll be honest here.  I am a blunt, snarky person who likes to poke fun at people I like.  Get that though, I poke fun at people I like, hopefully in a manner that isn't hurtful.  I have been known to be rude to people, especially salespeople at stores when my blood sugar is low.  My tolerance for just plain stupid is very low after dealing with the public so much during my adult life.  That said, since Firecracker was born I have tried to be more compassionate and gracious.  Truthfully, it's like they put something in that spinal block in the OR when she was born, because  all I could do was thank my OB, thank the nurses, thank the anesthesiologist, thank everyone.   I'm still and always will be very grateful for the wonderful care we received when Firecracker was born, because these people held both our lives in their hands, and they didn't have to be so nice and quite honestly wonderful.  Maybe it was the sheer joy from everything, but I think the change in manner has carried on to today, twenty weeks later.  I want Firecracker to grow up knowing that she has a mom who'll stand up for her, be her champion, but also is gracious and compassionate, so I pray and work to maintain as much of that joy every day.


It took me thirty years to learn that a healthy family isn't one that berates you and guilts you into doing things.  It took me thirty years to learn that a family that seems healthy on the outside for all appearance and quite honestly in the opinions of the dysfunctional family, isn't when everything is a game of who has the upper hand and can hold things over the heads of others like a Sword of Damocles.  I learned an accepted that those things were true, because that was what I knew from example - at least since I was ten.


Every day I pray that I act in a manner in which I want my daughter to some day emulate.  I pray that she never needs a class to learn not to act like those kids on the bus, because she has already learned that it is wrong from watching B and me in our every day lives.  Too few people practice it as a verb, but to be a good parent, you must parent.

Ten Quick Things About Me


  1. I don't watch scary movies.  Probably the last scary(ish) movie I watched was Scream, when I was in high school, and that was only because I was having a girls' night with my BFF's.  We had those all the time, back in the day, and stupid, scary movies were more tolerable with them... and the guys that made sure to scare us.
  2. Once upon a time, I could recite the first eighteen lines of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English, backwards and forward.  "WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote..."  Thank you, Dr. Enright.
  3. A part of me is tempted to read the Fifty Shades of Grey books, just so I can make informed jokes about them.
  4. If I had to choose between flying and driving somewhere, if given the time I would drive.  I think that the country is beautiful and love seeing every bit of it.
  5. I dislike clowns immensely.  I'm pretty sure that behind every clown's makeup lies a pedophile or someone who wants to wear an Adrienne skin suit.
  6. I play(ed) the alto saxophone.  In high school I was pretty good at it.  Fast forward fifteen years, and I sound like a goose in heat.
  7. I had an Early American Lit professor who decided it would be more interesting to study Harry Potter than to go over Transcendentalism.  Twelve years later, I still feel a little cheated.
  8. My first car was a 1996 Hawaiian Orchid Metallic Chevrolet Cavalier.  I drove that car for seven great years, then I drove it off a curve, knocked down a telephone poll and lived my nightmare of  driving a car without being able to see or stop because of the airbag.
  9. I've started and quit reading War and Peace no less than ten times.  I don't think it's happening.
  10. I'm thinking of rereading "The Blue Castle," because I think it's one of LM Montgomery's best works.

Being Socially Conscious

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

It's a quarter past ten at night.  B is in Tulsa tonight.  Firecracker is sleeping soundly upstairs in her bed.    Lucy is sleeping on the tile by the front door, obviously waiting in vain for B to come home tonight.  Dory is in bed, sprawled up with her feet in the air at my feet.  This is my quiet time.  This is the time that often crave for creativity, and I can't think of a darn thing to write about.

I'm too tired right now to think of much to post about.  So, I'm going to share my social media links with you.  Follow them all.  I'm trying to be rather diligent about posting on them, and I sometimes post things there, that I don't always blog about here.  Give them a look.


By: TwitterButtons.com

Favorite Things Tuesday: Where You Live



Friday, I wrote a post about how B, Firecracker, and I visited some of our favorite locally owned businesses.  That got me to thinking about all of the local places around here that make NWA such a great place for people to live.  Then, I started thinking about how this topic could get a litter reader participation going too by having all of YOU share ten things you love about where you live. If you have a blog, do it there and share the link in the comments. If you don't, just share them in the comments.

I'm thinking of making Favorite Things Tuesday a thing, by the way.
  1. My favorite place to get a burger is Feltner Bros. on College.  Not only do they make burgers just like the burgers at Feltner's Whatta-Burger in Russellville, an Arkansas establishment that was founded by their grandfather, but they also make eating here a personal experience.  They strive to know the names of their customers and remember what everyone's "usual" is.
  2. My favorite place to stock up on all the meat you could ever think of to cook is Richard's Country Meat Market.  The quality of the meat is the best, and again the service is great.  I would go in every week or so when I was pregnant, and they would always ask about my pregnancy and ask about Firecracker every time I go in now.  I also can actually save money on meat, because I can have it packaged the way I want it and not waste.
  3. In the spring, you can often find us watching the Arkansas Razorback Baseball team playing at Baum Stadium, which I think is one of the nicest venues in NCAA Division I Baseball.
  4. If you're in the mood for a little art, you can go up to Bentonville and visit the Crystal Bridges Museum of Art.  My favorite piece there is Rosie the Riveter.  
  5. When the college baseball season is over, we can turn our attention to our local AA team, the Northwest Arkansas Naturals who play at Arvest Ballpark, which is one of the best minor league ballparks in the country.
  6. On Saturdays in the fall, the place to be is Reynolds Razorback Stadium.  Need I say more?
  7. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings and Saturdays from April until November, the Fayetteville Farmers Market on the Square is a great place to get fresh, local produce, flowers, other things, and just to walk.  We're fans of strawberries and blueberries here.
  8. Speaking of the Fayetteville Square, at Christmas time, the Lights of the Ozarks are a wonder to see for "kids from one to ninety-two."  No really.  I missed driving by them every night after work last year, because I left my job about a week or two before they were lit.
  9. I know B and I discussed possibly needing to find a new church that's closer to our home, but we've decided that we really love and believe that we belong where we are for right now, especially after Firecracker spent her first Sunday in the church nursery this week.  So, one of my favorite places to be in NWA is also First Baptist Church of Bentonville.
  10. It's not in Northwest Arkansas, but Northern Arkansas.  B and I love to spend at least one weekend a year at Gaston's White River Resort.  B likes to trout fish, and I like to take pretty pictures.
Sunrise on the White River

Truth be told, I could probably fill several posts on this topic. So, on Tuesdays in the near future I may ask the same question.  Oh, you should also totally follow my Follow Me on Pinterest

Funky Fayetteville Friday

Friday, June 15, 2012

B took today off work after working out of town most of last week, working 13 hours last Saturday, and long hours every day this week except yesterday.  So, we took advantage of actually getting to be together for the day and ran around Fayetteville with Firecracker.  We ended up spending the day frequenting many of our favorite local establishments - all ran by great people.

Our first stop was Toyota of Fayetteville, because B once again had to have his truck serviced.  He travels so much that he's lucky to make it three months before he needs his 5,000 mile service.  B asked if I wanted to stop and look at the Highlanders, but I was hungry and declined.  Besides, it will probably be a year at least before we can really start looking to buy.  I'm not in the mood to start really wanting something for no reason just yet.

For lunch, we went to Rick's Bakery.  Rick's Bakery is the place in Fayetteville to buy cakes, cookies, donuts, sausage rolls, you name it.  I always forget that they serve lunch there, because I'm usually obsessed with the cakes, cupcakes, donuts, and cookies when I'm in there.  We both had great chef salads though.  It was just what we needed.  We discussed going to Feltner Bros for a burger, but decided we both needed salads more, even though we love how the guys at Feltner Bros remember exactly what we order each time we go there.

After that, we drove to the Fayetteville Square to go to Houndstooth Clothing, where they're having a great Father's Day sale.  This is just in time for the release of the "Omahog" shirts, celebrating the Razorback's trip to the College World Series this week.  I got the red one, B got the white one.  Little Firecracker even got a Razorback onsie, since we promised to buy her one if the Hogs made it to Omaha.  She, of course, loved shopping for clothes of any sort.

From there, we said hi to some friends for a second.  Then we picked up the truck and dropped off the car from Toyota of Fayetteville.  I'm glad to dropped off the car, because they found a nail in one of my tires and patched it.  I would hate to have found out about it in an emergency when B was out of town some time.

After that, we decided to stock up on some meat at Richard's Country Meat Market.  They really do have the best quality meat in town, and it's also a decent price.  I love buying tilapia there, and buy all of my beef there.  We've talked about getting quail from time to time, but haven't.  Every time I go in, they ask about Firecracker, because they watched my pregnancy progress almost weekly.

Then, we went home, let Firecracker eat, rested some, then battled the masses at Walmart.  Yes, I do consider big ole' Walmart local here.  For heaven's sake, Walmart is the lifeblood of NWA's economy!  Also, I'm not anti corporation.  I'm just pro-small business also.  I like having both.  They each serve a very important purpose.

Anyway, we ended the day eating dinner at Celi's True Mexican Cuisine, my favorite place for Mexican food.  I have dreams about their cheese dip and fried ice cream.  Sadly, little Firecracker had had about enough running around and started to get fussy.  My food was super hot, so I took Firecracker walking around the Square while B ate his food.  Then, I ate some of mine and will have a very nice lunch tomorrow.

It was really nice getting out and doing things together.  I love where we live, because there are so many great things to do and great businesses here.  Some time, I'm going to compile a list of all the great places in NWA like The Mustache, the Fayetteville Farmers Market, Penguin Ed's Bar-B-Que, and Spiedini Italian Grill.  The Toyota place isn't locally owned, but they've always taken good care of our vehicles.

Do you have any favorite, locally owned businesses that you like to frequent?  If so, please share.

Learning to Fail

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Thank you, David McCollough Jr, for giving a speech that not only the graduates of Wellesley High School needed to hear, but one that our entire nation desperately needed as well.  For a random speech given at a random high school to have become such a newsmaker, it had to resonate with quite a few people, and I'm included within that mix.

In this world of helicopter moms, kids' sports leagues that don't keep score, over-political correctness, and every other method people can come up with in order to level the playing field and make all children (and eventually all adults) the same, this was very refreshing to hear.  We live in an entitlement society.  We believe that we deserve things just for existing, when in fact we do not.  It has become increasingly obvious to me that people my age and younger (especially) expect for the things in life to be handed to them without doing anything - any work at all- to deserve them.

We have large groups of self-entitled brats protesting in cities across the nation against capitalism.  They complain that it's the fault of large corporations that they can't get jobs on their electronic devices and wifi connections provided by large corporations.  Yet, how many of these people might actually find work if they would stop protesting in some filthy, make-shift commune and actually look for work or take work they believe beneath them?

Young people now are coddled from birth into believing that they are all exceptional, that they all deserve great things, yet they are being taught less and less how to actually achieve those things.  Even worse, they aren't being taught how wonderfully satisfying it is to do the hard work and earn great achievments.  Instead of being taught to work hard to become someone special and to attain things, they believe their mere existence makes them exceptional.  The worst thing of all is, they aren't taught how to fail.

Just as important as learning how to succeed is, so is learning how to fail.  That's probably the biggest problem I have when kids' sports leagues don't keep score.  The truth of life is that there are winners and losers in life.  We all can't always be winners, and learning to lose is as important as learning to be a gracious winner.  Today's young adults and children are too cushioned.  They aren't allowed to gain the bruises falling in life can give you that teach and remind you not to fall again.

  • If a child curses in school and is suspended for it, the kid's parents sue the school rather than teach the child several valuable lessons.
  • Every participant gets a trophy, and there are no winners.
  • If one kid so much as looks at another askance, they're accused of bullying and must suffer the consequences.
  • More and more, kids are assigned group work, where one or two children do almost all of the work and carry the load for everyone else.  (Hello society, notice any similarities?)
Sadly, there are bullies in the adult world, and growing a thick skin and learning to deal with them is a part of childhood everyone needs to experience.  That doesn't mean excessive bullying should be allowed to take place, but honest to goodness teasing and general kid society should be allowed to commence without much adult interference.


This country wasn't founded by people who were expecting a handout from England.  They weren't looking for someone who would provide them with assistance from the cradle to the grave.  They didn't go about with their hands out.  This country was created by truly exceptional people who were remarkably special because they were willing to WORK.  They weren't born exceptional, they worked to become just that.

I'm going to read this speech to The Firecracker on and off throughout her life, I think.  I want her to know that she'll never attain anything unless she's willing to work for it.  I want her to know that she should do things because she wants to do them, and not because she thinks she should want to.  I want her to know that even though she is so very special to me, to the world she's just another girl.  Even though she may become a big fish in a small pond in school, the world is filled to the brim with similar and much bigger fish.  You see, it's a hard fall when you realize that your mother has been plying you with lies about how wonderful you are all your life.  It's like you jumped out of the plane, but your chute didn't open.  You're not prepared for what's going to injure you on the ground.

I will always be Firecracker's greatest advocate, but I will also always expect her to to her share of work in everything.  I want to be able to teach her to be exceptional for real, not just in words.  When she falls, and when she fails, I want her to be able, willing, and have the desire to pick herself up by her own bootstraps, shake off the dust, and keep trudging ahead happily, learning from her mistakes rather than giving up or getting angry that something wasn't just handed to her.  In the end, she must know that life isn't fair.  It just isn't.  We wish that it was, but it's not.  It's never going to be, no matter how much we cripple our young in trying to make it so.

Dr. Wong, Dr. Keough, Mrs. Novogroski, Ms. Curran, members of the board of education, family and friends of the graduates, ladies and gentlemen of the Wellesley High School class of 2012, for the privilege of speaking to you this afternoon, I am honored and grateful.  Thank you.

So here we are… commencement… life's great forward-looking ceremony.  (And don't say, "What about weddings?"  Weddings are one-sided and insufficiently effective.  Weddings are bride-centric pageantry.  Other than conceding to a list of unreasonable demands, the groom just stands there.  No stately, hey-everybody-look-at-me procession.  No being given away.  No identity-changing pronouncement.  And can you imagine a television show dedicated to watching guys try on tuxedos?  Their fathers sitting there misty-eyed with joy and disbelief, their brothers lurking in the corner muttering with envy.  Left to men, weddings would be, after limits-testing procrastination, spontaneous, almost inadvertent… during halftime… on the way to the refrigerator.  And then there's the frequency of failure: statistics tell us half of you will get divorced.  A winning percentage like that'll get you last place in the American League East.  The Baltimore Orioles do better than weddings.)

But this ceremony… commencement… a commencement works every time.  From this day forward… truly… in sickness and in health, through financial fiascos, through midlife crises and passably attractive sales reps at trade shows in Cincinnati, through diminishing tolerance for annoyingness, through every difference, irreconcilable and otherwise, you will stay forever graduated from high school, you and your diploma as one, 'til death do you part.

No, commencement is life's great ceremonial beginning, with its own attendant and highly appropriate symbolism.  Fitting, for example, for this auspicious rite of passage, is where we find ourselves this afternoon, the venue.  Normally, I avoid clich├ęs like the plague, wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot pole, but here we are on a literal level playing field.  That matters.  That says something.  And your ceremonial costume… shapeless, uniform, one-size-fits-all.  Whether male or female, tall or short, scholar or slacker, spray-tanned prom queen or intergalactic X-Box assassin, each of you is dressed, you'll notice, exactly the same.  And your diploma… but for your name, exactly the same.

All of this is as it should be, because none of you is special.

You are not special.  You are not exceptional.

Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you… you're nothing special. 

Yes, you've been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped.  Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again.  You've been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored.  You've been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie.  Yes, you have.  And, certainly, we've been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs.  Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet.  Why, maybe you've even had your picture in the Townsman!  [Editor's upgrade: Or The Swellesley Report!] And now you've conquered high school… and, indisputably, here we all have gathered for you, the pride and joy of this fine community, the first to emerge from that magnificent new building…

But do not get the idea you're anything special.  Because you're not.

The empirical evidence is everywhere, numbers even an English teacher can't ignore.  Newton, Natick, Nee… I am allowed to say Needham, yes? …that has to be two thousand high school graduates right there, give or take, and that's just the neighborhood Ns.  Across the country no fewer than 3.2 million seniors are graduating about now from more than 37,000 high schools.  That's 37,000 valedictorians… 37,000 class presidents… 92,000 harmonizing altos… 340,000 swaggering jocks… 2,185,967 pairs of Uggs.  But why limit ourselves to high school?  After all, you're leaving it.  So think about this: even if you're one in a million, on a planet of 6.8 billion that means there are nearly 7,000 people just like you.  Imagine standing somewhere over there on Washington Street on Marathon Monday and watching sixty-eight hundred yous go running by.  And consider for a moment the bigger picture: your planet, I'll remind you, is not the center of its solar system, your solar system is not the center of its galaxy, your galaxy is not the center of the universe.  In fact, astrophysicists assure us the universe has no center; therefore, you cannot be it.  Neither can Donald Trump… which someone should tell him… although that hair is quite a phenomenon.

"But, Dave," you cry, "Walt Whitman tells me I'm my own version of perfection!  Epictetus tells me I have the spark of Zeus!"  And I don't disagree.  So that makes 6.8 billion examples of perfection, 6.8 billion sparks of Zeus.  You see, if everyone is special, then no one is.  If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless.  In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another-which springs, I think, from our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality - we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement.  We have come to see them as the point - and we're happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that's the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole.  No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it…  Now it's "So what does this get me?"  As a consequence, we cheapen worthy endeavors, and building a Guatemalan medical clinic becomes more about the application to Bowdoin than the well-being of Guatemalans.  It's an epidemic - and in its way, not even dear old Wellesley High is immune… one of the best of the 37,000 nationwide, Wellesley High School… where good is no longer good enough, where a B is the new C, and the midlevel curriculum is called Advanced College Placement.  And I hope you caught me when I said "one of the best."  I said "one of the best" so we can feel better about ourselves, so we can bask in a little easy distinction, however vague and unverifiable, and count ourselves among the elite, whoever they might be, and enjoy a perceived leg up on the perceived competition.  But the phrase defies logic.  By definition there can be only one best.  You're it or you're not.

If you've learned anything in your years here I hope it's that education should be for, rather than material advantage, the exhilaration of learning.  You've learned, too, I hope, as Sophocles assured us, that wisdom is the chief element of happiness.  (Second is ice cream…  just an fyi)  I also hope you've learned enough to recognize how little you know… how little you know now… at the moment… for today is just the beginning.  It's where you go from here that matters.

As you commence, then, and before you scatter to the winds, I urge you to do whatever you do for no reason other than you love it and believe in its importance.  Don't bother with work you don't believe in any more than you would a spouse you're not crazy about, lest you too find yourself on the wrong side of a Baltimore Orioles comparison.  Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction.  Be worthy of your advantages.  And read… read all the time… read as a matter of principle, as a matter of self-respect.  Read as a nourishing staple of life.  Develop and protect a moral sensibility and demonstrate the character to apply it.  Dream big.  Work hard.  Think for yourself.  Love everything you love, everyone you love, with all your might.  And do so, please, with a sense of urgency, for every tick of the clock subtracts from fewer and fewer; and as surely as there are commencements there are cessations, and you'll be in no condition to enjoy the ceremony attendant to that eventuality no matter how delightful the afternoon.

The fulfilling life, the distinctive life, the relevant life, is an achievement, not something that will fall into your lap because you're a nice person or mommy ordered it from the caterer.  You'll note the founding fathers took pains to secure your inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness-quite an active verb, "pursuit"-which leaves, I should think, little time for lying around watching parrots rollerskate on Youtube.  The first President Roosevelt, the old rough rider, advocated the strenuous life.  Mr. Thoreau wanted to drive life into a corner, to live deep and suck out all the marrow.  The poet Mary Oliver tells us to row, row into the swirl and roil.  Locally, someone… I forget who… from time to time encourages young scholars to carpe the heck out of the diem.  The point is the same: get busy, have at it.  Don't wait for inspiration or passion to find you.  Get up, get out, explore, find it yourself, and grab hold with both hands.  (Now, before you dash off and get your YOLO tattoo, let me point out the illogic of that trendy little expression-because you can and should live not merely once, but every day of your life.  Rather than You Only Live Once, it should be You Live Only Once… but because YLOO doesn't have the same ring, we shrug and decide it doesn't matter.)

None of this day-seizing, though, this YLOOing, should be interpreted as license for self-indulgence.  Like accolades ought to be, the fulfilled life is a consequence, a gratifying byproduct.  It's what happens when you're thinking about more important things.  Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view.  Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you.  Go to Paris to be in Paris, not to cross it off your list and congratulate yourself for being worldly.  Exercise free will and creative, independent thought not for the satisfactions they will bring you, but for the good they will do others, the rest of the 6.8 billion-and those who will follow them.  And then you too will discover the great and curious truth of the human experience is that selflessness is the best thing you can do for yourself.  The sweetest joys of life, then, come only with the recognition that you're not special.

Because everyone is.

Congratulations.  Good luck.  Make for yourselves, please, for your sake and for ours, extraordinary lives. - David McCollough Jr.

Friend Makin' Mondays: Bedroom Habits

Monday, June 11, 2012


This isn't as racy as you would think that it is.
If you’ve taken part in FMM then you know the rules. If you’re new, please take a moment to answer this week’s question on your own blog then add your link in the comments section here at: www.alltheweigh.com so we can all see your FMM questions and answers. Please invite your blog readers to add their links here too so everyone has to opportunity to be seen. The idea is to connect with other awesome bloggers so take a moment to post your own FMM post and comment on a couple of other posts. Now it’s time for this week’s topic!

FMM: Bedroom Habits


1. Do you set an alarm clock? If so, for what time? I haven't regularly set my alarm since I left work two months before Firecracker was born.  It's not as great as it sounds though.  The dogs generally start trying to wake me just before B's alarm goes off multiple times and loud enough to wake Michael Jackson.  Then Firecracker usually starts waking up not long after that.
2. How many hours of sleep do you get on an average night?  I would say around six - sometimes seven, but that depends on how well I'm sleeping, if Firecracker wakes up any, if B is snoring loudly, or the dogs are keeping me awake for some reason.  Firecracker generally goes to bed for the night between nine and ten.  Then B and I have a little time to relax and be together before getting to sleep around midnight usually.  I wake up
(or am forced awake) between six and seven most days.
3. Do you bring your laptop to bed? I do occasionally.  I've found that my most productive blogging time is often right before I go to sleep.  If not my Macbook, then my iPad is there for last minute reading.
4. How many pillows do you require to sleep? Three.  Two for my head and neck and one to cuddle.  Right now, it feels like zero though.  I've got to buy new pillows ASAP.  I can't continue with my neck and shoulders in the pain they're in every morning when I wake.
5. Do you sleep with socks on? Only when it's below zero outside , and sometimes not then.  My feet get very hot, which keeps me from being comfortable enough to sleep. 
6. How often do you change the sheets?  Once a week or as needed…
7. Do you remember your dreams? Sometimes.  I usually remember bits and pieces at least.
8. Which side of the bed do you sleep on?  The right side.  I have for probably eight of the eight and a half years we've been married.  We tried it the other way for a while, but for some reason switched and have kept it that way.  I think we switched because B was going to kill himself, falling between the bed and the wall in our tiny first apartment in Russellville.
9. How often do you take naps? Not very often.  I can only nap when Firecracker naps, which isn't often enough.  Also, I'm usually catching up on housework then.  I do try to rest every once in a while during her siestas though.
10. Do you sleep soundly?  When I can get to sleep, I sleep soundly.  When I can't get comfortable, or other things or people are keeping me awake, I'm absolutely miserable. 
Now it’s your turn to answer this week’s questions! Don’t forget to come back and link up in the comments!  And hey…try saying hi to someone new this week!  Happy Monday, Friends…

Sunday Randomness

Sunday, June 10, 2012



  • Remember last week when I mentioned that I wish I could have a pillow for bed made by the Boppy people?  Now I'm just wanting any new pillow that's rather firm and lasts for more than a couple of months.  I shouldn't wake up every morning with my neck and shoulders in pain.  If anyone has any suggestions on great pillows, I really want to know about them.  Please comment.
  • B worked all day and most of the night yesterday, so we stayed home from church today.  We decided to get the free download on iTunes of "Bunheads," the new drama on ABC Family by the creator of Gilmore Girls.  At first we didn't think we would like it, but now we really do.  It doesn't hurt that the actress who played Emily Gilmore is one of the stars, playing more of a Miss Patti.  We may actually have something to watch this summer.  We may  have two things to watch if the new Dallas is any good.
  • The Firecracker really discovered the jumping part of her jumparoo tonight.  I'm going to have to get video some time.
  • Speaking of the Firecracker, a friend suggested this on Instagram a few days ago.  The Rockabye Baby stoffLooking at all the different albums, I've already downloaded "Sweet Child O' Mine."  I'm probably going to be downloading a lot of these in the future so as to maintain my sanity.
  • This week looks to be fairly busy, but I hope to be able to post regularly.  Have a good week, and God Bless You!

What We Did Last Week: Thunder and Thunder Chickens???

Saturday, June 9, 2012

This past week was one of those weeks when I feel like I didn't do a whole lot, but in reality I kinda did. It's all in the little bits, you know, not in grand things. I don't know if I have energy for grand anymore, quite honestly.

On Monday, Firecracker and I had to make a Sam's Club run because we were almost out of Similac, and we were out of both Tide and Downey. I had a lot of laundry that needed washed before B had to be in Oklahoma City for work Tuesday through Thursday and couldn't wait until Tuesday like I normally like to do. Monday at Sam's is a tad busier than I prefer it to be. Like every other place where there's a pharmacy, the pharmacy was busy with people waiting on prescriptions to be filled, and it seemed that anyone who needed anything in bulk decided to go buy it first thing Monday morning.

On Tuesday, we did our normal Tuesday thing. We walked the Fayetteville Farmer's Market - this time with the Baby Bjorn and not the stroller. It was a whole lot easier getting around everything wearing the Firecracker, rather than pushing her. Those sidewalks can get very crowded. Then we stopped in and said hi to our pals at my old work.

On Wednesday, I had to take Firecracker to Walmart for groceries with me. I don't normally do take her with me to get the bulk of our groceries. She's not yet sturdy enough to sit in the child seat in the basket, and her carrier takes up most of the cart - which I need for groceries. Honestly, getting the groceries is also my time alone - my quiet time. Yeah, Walmart has become my quiet time now, believe it or not. Anyway, we needed several things desperately, and with B out of town until late Thursday night and plans for Friday night, I had to just do it.

So, I put her in the Bjorn again. She did really great and seemed to enjoy being able to look around at everything and be a part of what I was doing. That's really becoming a thing for her. She wants to be a part of everything these days. She wants to sit at the table with us, she wants to be a part of our conversations, and wants to be included in everything. She's not content to be a distant extension of us, which is great. My back was very tired once we got home after getting groceries - very tired.

While we were doing rather normal, every day things together here, B managed to snag a ticket to what turned out to be the deciding game of the NBA's Western Conference Finals between the OKC Thunder and San Antonio Spurs. I don't really care much for basketball, especially professional, but B had the time of his life. Unfortunately no other event will ever compare to this game. It was THAT good.

Thursday, we just stayed at home, which we needed to do. All week we've been eating a little rice or oatmeal cereal in the afternoons. Firecracker is pretty funny when she eats it. She wants to eat, but still has that tongue thrust reflex, and most of it comes back out. She does wipe her mouth with her bib after almost every bite though.

Friday night, we took Firecracker to her first NWA Natural's game. Every June, B's office has a family night, and we always try to go. It's fun to see B's coworkers with their kids. We didn't stay for the whole game, because Firecracker was getting tired, and we were tired. We did enjoy the time we were there though.

Actually, it wasn't a Natural's game. It was throwback night, and since the Naturals just moved here a few years ago, there was nothing to throw back to. So, they went by their second choice (and thankfully the loser) in naming them, the Thunder Chickens.

Today, B is having to work. So, Firecracker and I are just hanging out together at home again... I'm sure we'll end the week in the same manner we end every night, playing with Lucy and Dory.





Faith > Fear

Wednesday, June 6, 2012


In his first inaugural speech, Franklin Delano Roosevelt told the country that "...the only thing we have to fear is fear itself..."  I guess in reality that's true.  Fear is a powerful, horrible, crippling thing.  Fear motivates our baser instincts.  Fear prevents us from doing things we should and often causes us to do that which we should not.  Probably every mistake I've made in life's root cause was fear of some sort or another.

Every day I fight battles with fear.  I constantly fear I'm not a good enough mother for Firecracker.  I fear that something will happen to her.  I fear something will happen to B or to me, and that she'll only have one parent.  I seriously fear being remotely the kind of mother my own was / is.

Every time B comes in from mowing or running all purple from overdoing it, I fear he'll fall over dead, because I have vivid, almost twenty-two-year-old memories of my Dad mowing the yard on a hot September evening, having a heart attack, and dying.  His moans, his gasps for air will haunt me for the rest of my days.

Fear prevented me from being more aggressive during the three years we tried to have a baby.  First I really was afraid of getting pregnant.  Then I lived with the fear of losing my first pregnancy the entire time I was pregnant.  Then after the miscarriage I was deathly afraid of having to experience it again if we were to get pregnant.  I was very happy yet still not happy the year or so we did but didn't try to get pregnant.

Fear keeps us from saying the things we need to say, both good and bad.  Sometimes when we're afraid of hurting someone, we do more damage because we allow fear to regulate our actions.

I'm not going to say that I didn't have any fear when I was pregnant with Firecracker, but I had a peace about me before I got pregnant with her, throughout the pregnancy, and after her birth that could only have been from God.  B and I both always just knew things were right this time.  Prayers were answered and still are being answered.  I have never felt the prayers of others so much as I did when Firecracker was born.

The only antidote to fear I've found is faith.  Faith in God has carried me through both my darkest and lightest days.  According to Hebrews 11:1, "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see."  That confidence and assurance are what chase away the fear.  Without them, I don't think that I could face some, if not most, days.

As stated before, fear can be crippling.  However faith is empowering.  As B would possibly post on Twitter, Faith > Fear.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation;
     whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
    of whom shall I be afraid?" - Psalm 27:1 ESV

What I've Learned In Four Months

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Tomorrow Firecracker turns four months old!  I'm too sleepy to think!!!
  • Learning to eat from a spoon is hard work.  Firecracker wants to eat like a big girl so badly.  She just has to learn to not thrust her tongue about once her cereal is in her mouth.
  • Baseball and softball are awesome.  They're just awesome, especially if you're an infant.
  • Bert and Ernie are now apparently claymation characters who go on adventures.  I wonder if Ernie lost his rubber ducky?  I guess those days when we wondered if anyone other than Big Bird would see Snuffleupagus are long over.  Yes, I'm that old.
  • Every night around six-thirty, we must go outside to play with the dogs.
  • Carter the  Monkey is a great friend.
  • Firecracker must sleep with her Lady on her right side and Lambie on her left.
  • Rolling over is best done when no one is watching.  

Friend Makin' Mondays: Quick and Easy

Monday, June 4, 2012



If you’ve taken part in FMM then you know the rules. If you’re new, please take a moment to answer this week’s question on your own blog then add your link in the comments section here at: www.alltheweigh.com so we can all see your FMM questions and answers. Please invite your blog readers to add their links here too so everyone has to opportunity to be seen. The idea is to connect with other awesome bloggers so take a moment to post your own FMM post and comment on a couple of other posts. Now it’s time for this week’s topic!

FMM: Quick and Easy


1. When is your birthday? May 1, unless you look at Firecracker's birth certificate.  According to that, I'm a month older than I really am.
2. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?  Oh, probably last year.  My friend Melissa and I have tried to bring the lost art of letter-writing back, but email is so much faster and cheaper!
3. What did you eat for breakfast this morning? V8 V-Fusion Pomegranate Blueberry Juice and a Chocolate Chip Chewy Granola bar.  
4. Who is the next band/artist you will see perform live? Oh good grief, who knows?  B and I have talked about seeing Brad Paisley or Carrie Underwood this fall, but we're probably going to Colorado instead.
5. What is the last song you listened to? Old school.  I listened to "Killing Me Softly With His Song" by the Fugees.
6. If you could be fluent in any other language, which one would you choose? Klingon.  It's a synthetic language, but probably more fun than Esperanto.
7. Does anything on your body hurt right now? I have a major sunburn.  It doesn’t hurt yet, but I’m worried that it might soon. My hands are even sun-burned…
8. What’s your favorite sports team?  Boomer Sooner, baby!  We're especially cheering for the OU Softball team as they battle Alabama in the WCWS Finals this week.  After that, the Arkansas Razorbacks.  At first it was just because I married a Razorback then worked at the best station for reporting them, but now I'm genuinely a fan.
9. How often do you watch the news?  I worked at a TV station for five and a half years, so I watch the news all the time.  Once you're around it that much for that long, it's in your blood somewhat.
10. Do you wear glasses? Yes, except for when I'm wearing my contacts, LOL.  I actually accidentally wore my contacts during my C-section even.

This week was short and simple, and now it’s your turn to answer the questions!  Don’t forget to come back and link up in the comments!

Sunday Randomosity

Sunday, June 3, 2012

  •  I want a king-sized pillow made by the Boppy people to sleep with every night. B and I are always buying new pillows, because we can never seem to find any that will last. Also, have you ever rested your head on a Boppy? It is just the perfect firmness for awesome sleep.
  • I haven't been a big fan of any girls' sports since I quit softball twenty years ago. The past few weeks, B and I have become quite interested in NCAA softball and have been cheering for the OU Sooners to win it all. They start playing Alabama for the finals this week. Firecracker is a Keilani Ricketts fan - seriously. She loves baseball and softball.
  • Firecracker and I talked B into going to the Farmer's Market with us yesterday. Of course he enjoyed himself. We knew that he would.
  • I think I'm going to start calling my mother Morticia Addams. Every time I talk to her on the phone, I feel like the Voice of Doom is on the other end; breathing heavily like a pervert. She has never grasped the concept of not holding the receiver right up to her mouth.
  • It's going to be an interesting week, because B will be out of town Tuesday through Thursday. I'm praying Firecracker will be good, and that I don't try to mame myself anymore than I did last week. It's not fun picking long strands of your own skin out of your razor.
  • In all seriousness, I have a friend who had her little boy eight weeks early via Cesarean Friday. They were told at twenty weeks to abort him, because he would be born deformed, and that his organs wouldn't develop, but they didn't. Then, they were told he wouldn't live long, but he is now two days old. Remember them all in your prayers please. They are at OU Children's Hospital.


May Repost: Awarded

Saturday, June 2, 2012


I noticed that my friend, Erin, tagged me with the "Tell Me About Yourself" Blog Award.  I'm not in the mood to break the chain, so I'll play along.

 Now, Erin knows me pretty well.  She's been reading my old blog for years, and more than that we've been friends basically since B and I got married eight years ago.  She's married to one of B's oldest friends.  You can read her blog, Bidawee, here.

Here are the rules for this award:  (1) Link back to the person who nominated you. (2) Thank the person who nominated you. (3) Choose 5 people you believe deserve this award too. (4) Leave comments letting those people know they have been awarded. (5) Write 7 things about yourself.

Now, to the five blogs I choose to receive this:
  1. This Mom's Journey - My friend from back home, Crystal, is author of this blog.  She's the mom of three beautiful children, the oldest of whom is severely autistic.
  2. The Woodruff Family - This started out as the baby blog for my friend, Meredith.  It has turned into so much more in the past year since her second son Miller was diagnosed with SMA, Spinal Muscular Atrophy.  You may have heard a lot about SMA lately with the story of the Texas family whose daughter also had SMA, and they worked to complete a bucket list for her.  Meredith's blog is very inspriational for anyone who has suffered the loss of a child, or just anyone in general.
  3. Constance Reader Writes Her Own Story - This is a book blog written by a very good friend of mine.
  4. 7 Million Wonders - The first Mom Blog I ever read, because it's written by my very good friends Cath and Louise.
  5. E Louise Bates - My friend Louise's blog about life and mostly her journey to become a published writer.
For the seven things about me:
  1. I grew up in a very small town in Oklahoma
  2. My dad passed away when I was ten years old, and I was mostly raised by my Mom.  She's quite honestly a little crazy, and it shows in our strained relationship.
  3. I don't like feet, and I hate wearing flip flops and sandals.
  4. I'm one of the last people in the world who doesn't own a smart phone, and I don't text.  I'm hoping to remedy the smart phone situation some day soon.
  5. Something about having had a baby makes me want to get dressed up and sexy more often. I think I'm just wanting to fight the mom blahs.
  6. My next vehicle will most likely be a black Toyota Highlander so I can schlep around the kid and the dogs.
  7. The only person I ever dated seriously was my husband.  He can say the same about me.  If you want to get to the bare bones about it, I CAN attest truthfully that good things come to those who wait.  I mean really wait.
  8. I really want either this or this camera lens.
Make sure to take a look at the other blogs.  They're all very worth reading.

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