Happy 16th Birthday Sunshine!

16 years ago at this exact moment I was sitting in a hospital room getting my very first epidural. My mother and father were there along with Nathan and Louie. It was indeed a family event. We were waiting on our sweet Raychel to join our family. At 2:25 pm our “Ray” of sunshine was born. She was 10 lbs. and 21 inches long with the most vivid birthmark on her forehead where the angels gave her one last kiss before sending her down.  

 

We knew Raychel was not the average baby from the moment she cried her first cry. She was louder, bigger, more alert and more demanding than the other babies in the nursery. Raychel was being passed around in the stands at her 14 year old brother's basketball game the week she was born. At three weeks my dear friend Janet Niemeyer was feeding her honey and sopapillas  when we had a Lorena High School Boys basketball dinner at El Chico. She also introduced Raychel to iced tea that she gave her drops of from her straw. From that day on Raychel was not satisfied with milk and we had to put her on cereal and fruit. Raychel sat up, crawled and started babbling well before she was six months old. At 9 months she was walking all over the house and getting into everything. I was not used to this since Nathan was the “perfect” child. He never got into trouble and always minded. However, our Raychel broke every rule we gave her and without even realizing it, everyone around her would end up following HER rules.  Raychel had so many wonderful “moms” and since most were teachers she learned to talk in full sentences before the age of two. This led to some very interesting conversations about heaven, God and where she came from before she came to earth.  Raychel would talk to spirits, visited random graves and would tell me all about the person buried there. I had to warn everyone who came in contact with her that she might talk about things that were not “normal” and had to assure them that Raychel was not in need of therapy.  Shopping was always a bit awkward since we had to make room in the cart for all her "friends" and had to wait on all of them to get in the van before I could close the door. Yes, anyone who witnessed this thought I was crazy. I would smile and whisper for everyone to hurry and get in! (sigh)

Raychel had the pleasure of being raised with her amazing brother and a wonderful group of teenage boys who were all 14 years older than she was. They played with her, let her fix their hair, performed concerts at Christmas for her, threw her in the swimming pool and now protect her like one of their own family. Before she would date a boy, he had to meet and be approved of by her brother and two of his closest friends.  

Through the years we realized that God had truly blessed Raychel with so much talent and a soul that is wise beyond it’s years. In spite of being stubborn, mouthy, demanding and messy; she is smart, funny, loyal and forgiving. Raychel will stand in front of anyone who needs protecting, get involved in causes that make the world a better place and stand firm in her beliefs and morals. When she is the topic of rumors and High School drama she tries to set the record straight but then ignores it since her priority is what God knows to be true. During the week you will find Raychel in a gym playing Basketball or Volleyball or at home doing her homework. On Sunday you will find Raychel at church from 3-6:30pm singing with the church band. If you ask her why she devotes most of her Sunday to singing in church she will gladly tell you what she told me, “When I sing for God, I feel whole.”

There is not a day that goes by that I do not thank God and the Angels who brought her to us.  Even though she has made Louie and I age faster than we should have, makes me drink that second glass of wine and causes us to both lay awake many nights wondering what on earth we are going to do with her, we are truly blessed to have her in our lives. She will always be our baby girl.

Most of you already know she was named “Ray”chel because her Opa said that the day she was born was the day the sun shined the brightest. I believe he was right.

 

Happy 16^th Birthday Sunshine! You are amazing! Your father and I cannot wait to see you take on the world!

It's time to be selfish!

During my absence of blogging I have been trying to get my health under control. I admit that most of my problems stem from my being overweight. Weight Watchers was a fantastic way to start this new life and I followed the plan exactly. I lost 29.9 pounds and felt fantastic. It was all about "ME" and I was taking care of myself and "selfishly" cooking how I needed to eat. I felt successful, happy, healthy and was actually enjoying life more than I had in a long time.

Then my daughter became ill. I could think of nothing else but getting her well. It was a hard time for us since we did not know what was making her so sick. Doctors, emergency rooms and tests took the place of my exercising, eating right and WW meetings. After that I never could get back on track since other responsibilities got in the way. Being selfish is the hardest thing a mom can do. Our love for our children has trained us to be there for their every want and need. How dare we take time for ourselves when there is a ball game to sit and watch for four hours? What in the world are you thinking by saying you need to work out instead of taking your teenager to see a friend? Amidst "Did you order my contacts? Did you get the stuff I needed for school? Can you bring my uniform that I forgot? Can you find my shoes I left in the middle of the kitchen floor? Can you see if I have all my stuff for the game? You didn't get ice cream?" you lose your sense of urgency in taking care of yourself. Even as I write these words I am being texted (summoned) to fulfill yet another desire! If I were to say "NO!!" the guilt would be unbearable and I still would not be taking care of "me".

As I look in the mirror I once again see the person I have become and not the one God intended me to be. The longer I look at the face I do not recognize I gain strength and determination. I DESERVE to live the rest of my life as my best. I DESERVE to take time for me and only me. Hold that thought.....I need to reply to a text........wait! Maybe I won't! Maybe I will just ignore it! As my heart pounds and I start to feel guilty, please pray for me! I need all the help I can get to break this cycle of sabotaging myself to make sure those I love have everything they could ever wish for.

No one said I had to "like" you.

 I promised God to love my children with all that I am and I truly do. I would give up my own life for them. But sometimes it is truly hard to like them. I used to be embarrassed to admit this. The older I get the easier the words "I really don't like you right now!" flow from my mouth. The first time I said it out loud I believe my daughter stopped in her tracks and stared at me. I could see those little wheels working in her head. "Did my mother just say she did not like me???!!" I saw the puzzled look on her face so I repeated it.....twice!(Evil grin)

Thankfully my feelings come in stages. The first year is when they are about 10. Seriously, it is hard to like a ten year old. They are inquisitive know it alls. They are trying to find a niche for themselves before Junior High which makes them bossy and mouthy and they are so very messy! While my heart is overflowing with love, the rest of me wants to kick them out of my "inner circle". Then God finds it in his heart to allow them to become more pleasant for a couple of years and then they hit 13. Anyone with a 13 year old knows what I am talking about. One moment they are so grown up and fun to socialize with and you even find yourself wanting to "hang out" with them. Then while you are mid sentence, a light switches off in the brain and you find yourself talking to a moody teenager who can not remember what you told them three seconds ago let alone follow instructions for the day. When you question them about anything their voice goes up five octaves and they are truly offended that you would dare speak to them. This is when loving them is hard, let alone liking the little monsters. This stage lasts pretty much until they graduate High School. I do believe it is God's plan to make them so unlikeable it is easier to say goodbye when they head off to college and a life of thier own.

When they are grown and have become the adults you intended them to be you are truly in awe of how charming and funny and likable they are. You want to spend time with them. You even beg them to come see you so you can be with them. You like them so much, you would do anything to welcome them back into that precious inner circle.........then one day you hear "Mom I truly love you, but I really don't like you right now!".

God has a quirky sense of humor.

Parenting is a life long commitment!

Being a parent is tough. Anyone who tells you that raising children is a breeze is either lying, taking Prozac or seriously in denial. It is a full time job for a minimum of 50 years with no retirement plan. I would say it is 24/7 x 365 days but for most people there are about 7 hours a day that you can sleep and not actively parent. However, you are on call during those hours so in my case this does not apply.

I once thought what when my children got older and could take care of themselves that I would actually have a life of my own. I could take a nap, go to bed early, sleep late, eat when I want, drink what I want and do whatever my heart desired. After all, they could take care of themselves, right? The goal of being a good parent is to raise loving, kind and intelligent members of society. It is our jobs to nurture, protect and love these little beings with all that we are. Then when the time comes for them to go out on their own we are done, right?

WRONG!

And if being wrong is not disappointing enough, being so wrong you need therapy is a rude awakening.

I don't know the exact moment in time when I realized what was happening but it has been within the last month. Coincidentally my daughter has been dating the "love of her life" during this same time frame. Let me ponder....nope, not a coincidence. Instead of me being able to relax and enjoy more sleep, more free time, more "me" time and the knowledge that I have raised two amazing children, I have now added another child to my family. My worries, concerns and parenting radar has now doubled. This is NOT the way it is supposed to work. I am supposed to have less responsibility not more!

Now I worry about four people instead of two. My son is married and they live in NY and are happy, healthy and whole. They are two of the most amazing young adults I know. They are bright, funny, loving, kind and so very talented. A parent's dream children! Jodi's parents and Louie and I did a great job parenting these two. I should not have any worries. Wrong again. I still worry when I do not talk to Nate every day. I worry about Jodi and her safety when she travels alone in the Big Apple even though she is from New York and is probably safer than Nate. I worry about them as a couple and if they are okay and eating well. I worry if they have had their dental or medical check-ups, I worry about Nate's knee surgery and if proper care is being taken to assure longer results. I worry because he never seems to sleep!! Is he taking care of himself? The list is endless.

Raychel is the youngest so she causes me the most worry. I worry about her school work, her athletics, her music, her back injury, her latest illness and about her hair turning green in the pool! I worry when she does not check in after school or when she is not at home. I worry about her future and where life will take her. And now I worry about her heart........

And if all this was not enough, I now worry about Bobby. Did he make it home okay? Did he eat before he went to work? Do I need to cook when he comes over late? Is everything okay? Will this fall bring him as much joy at UMHB as he is anticipating. Is he getting enough sleep?

Just when I thought I was getting more vacation time from this full time job of parenting, I was given a promotion and more responsibility. Instead of my usual 5 hours of sleep a night I now get 3. I should be very upset, right?

WRONG!

I am tired, worn out and often frustrated but I would not trade any of my babies for  long naps, early bed times, sleeping late, eating when I want, drinking what I want or doing whatever my heart desired. My life would not be complete without them in it. Just the mere thought of them makes my heart overflow with love unlike any other. I guess God does know what he is doing and placed me where I need to be doing what I need to do.

My mother once told me that when you get married you are given a necklace of love with a worry stone attached. You never take it off. With each child you add a stone. As your children fall in love you add another stone. Grandchildren bring even more stones. The necklace just keeps getting heavier and heavier and is often very difficult to wear but the necklace also becomes so much more valuable. In the end, it is a priceless treasure of ones life.

And my kids don't know it yet, but I am passing this necklace down to them when I'm gone......after all, they deserve it, right? Yes......I am calling my therapist right now.

Sometimes you have to let people go.

We all need people in our lives for various reasons. We need a great co-worker that you can trust with work issues and that can help us get through those lovely Mondays. We need a casual friend who you are close to and can tell things to but they are not so close to the issue that they can remain objective when they give their advice and forget what you talked about as soon as you walk away. We need someone to love intimately who thinks you are the best thing that ever happened to them and would stop at nothing to be with you; your happiness depends on theirs.

And then we have our BFFFLE's. (Best Freaking Friend Forever Life Eternity) The one person who will support you in all you do, stand by and let you make a fool of yourself but be there to defend you for doing so, cry with you, laugh with you, stick up for you even though you are wrong (but later tell  you that you have lost your mind!) and regardless of what life throws your way be there to  live it with you. They are never jealous, petty or demeaning. They are your other half. No one can take their place.

Sometimes those we thought were our BFFFLE's eventually stop being the one person you can trust above all others. The exact moment in time when this happens is unknown. It can be the little things that lead up to the final realization that things have changed.....you are telling them a story that is important to you and they are not paying attention. You are supposed to meet somewhere and they bail at the last minute with no explanation. They make "bonding time" plans with you and you find out they invited others without telling you. You hear things that you told them in private that they shared with others. You find yourself always defending decisions you made about other people in your life. And then the realization that every argument you have had with your girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse was over something your BFFFLE did to come between the two of you. All these things are not deal breakers with all your other friends because we all know not everyone can be happy for us at all times. But when it is your best friend, it can bring heartache of epic proportions.

After denials, disbelief, sadness and the feeling that the one person who has always been by your side may not be there for you tomorrow, one must realize that it might be time to let them go. Once the circle of trust has been broken it can never be reconnected. Sure, you can still be friends but that one true bond of Best Freaking Friend Forever Life Eternity is gone. What a sad day.

When your daughter falls in love.......

Even though we parents know that eventually our children will fall in love with someone special, the moment it happens will most definitely catch you off guard. We sit back and watch the middle school and high school flirtations and try not to get too involved even if you know the object of their affection is not worthy. We watch as they change their mind from day to day on who they "like" and who they want to "get to know better". You need an Excel spreadsheet to keep up!

This will be about my daughter. (Our son has married his soul mate! We are blessed) She will be mortified to know she is the focus of this blog! Shhh- Do not tell her. We call her "Runaway Raych". Everyone who knows her well will grab a pair of sneakers from her closet the minute a boy starts texting and acting interested in starting a relationship with her. History proves no boy has lasted more than a week. At times I would point out the positive attributes of a young boy and my daughter would seriously consider my words but then she would realize she really isn't interested in changing her very busy life to accommodate another person.

One day Raychel was in church, where you will find her every Sunday at band rehearsal and then singing with the band for mass. During mass I saw her look at someone in the congregation and smile. I could not see who it was but I had not seen her smile quite in that way before. I was curious. After mass she informed me that "Bobby" was in church and there was this glow about her! I had never seen her so.....well, giddy! I will  not go into how they met and how they came to be "Raybob" because it is not my story to tell. And honestly, they tell it in a much cuter way than I ever could. However, I will say that at that precise moment in time I felt a pang in my heart. I knew this was going to be unlike anything we have ever gone through with Raychel.

Raychel is a firm believer that God is the only one who can find the one person in this world meant just for her. She prayed about it daily. When she would talk to a boy if she did not get that "approval from above" feeling, there would not be a second conversation. If she got a negative vibe of some sort on a date, then there would never be a second date. Knowing this about her, when Raych and Bobby met for the first time and actually had a conversation, I never thought about what might come of this meeting. Even though I know how I felt in church when she told me about Bobby, past experiences prove that whatever she was feeling would be over when she got home. Imagine my surprise when she came home with a big smile and her heart overflowing.

Raychel is totally and completely in love for the very first time. She is not afraid to tell anyone who wants to know. She is not concerned about what others think. She is not afraid to let her guard down and let herself fall. My daughter has found "the" young man she is willing to risk everything for. Most adults feel that HS relationships are not meant to last or have depth or true concern for one another. I am a witness that this is not the case. Love is Love and there is no barrier of race, religion, politics or age that can stand against "real" love. When it truly happens, nothing can get in its way.

Lou and I had a hard time at first. We were concerned about how we would let this young man into our lives and allow him to share his life with us and our precious Ray of Sunshine. I called my son for advice. He is amazing and helped me see things from another perspective. But Louie was still not happy! "What? He wants to date my only daughter???" Then we met him. Our feelings for him were instantaneous. When I saw the way he looked at my daughter, there was no doubt in my mind that he truly cares for her. He is kind, considerate, funny, bright, charming, compassionate and a Catholic! He makes his parents very proud! They raised him well and I am thankful. He treats Raych with respect and professes to care for her as much as she does him. What I feared the most turned out to be a wonderful addition to our family. In the short time Bobby has been in our lives he has won our hearts and has brought our family so much joy and laughter. He is family. Regardless of where this will all end up, we will always love him.

We moms want everyone to be happy and want to forever protect our children of any age from anything that might harm them. For the first time I am allowing God to put my heart at ease and help me step back and not try and protect either one of them from possible heart ache. Only God knows where this path will lead. I am trusting in Him to guide them as they share this summer together. I am enjoying being a part of it all and praying that all will be ok in the end.....whenever that may be.

One never knows where they will land when they blindly took that leap of faith......but the journey seems to be amazing! We Mynarciks have learned that when you trust in God to guide your heart, He will never let you down!

Test of Faith

There are so many of us who need prayers on a daily basis. It seems that every other entry on Facebook is requesting a prayer. Twitter is now requesting prayers in 140 characters or less. Emails, mass texts, word of mouth from friends and the community, all asking for prayers. If I would say but one prayer a day for all the requests I receive I would be praying every waking moment of every day........perhaps that's the point!

I am always honored when someone asks me to talk to my Buddy in the sky on their behalf. I am more than willing to stop whatever I am doing at the time and fall to my knees. My faith in Him and his mercy is never ending......at least that is what I told myself.

If you have read my past blogs you know that there are two children that I pray for at least once an hour. In my heart I KNOW that God is in control and he is not only walking beside Feryn and Tanner while they are on this difficult journey; he often carries them when they are too tired to walk. I am always positive when others ask about them and reassuring in my emails to both families. "Please do not fear, God is loving and kind and His plan has to be the right plan!"

And then the unthinkable happened......Raychel became ill. Test after test  came back negative. Three emergency doctors on as many visits could not make a diagnosis. On the fifth day we were told to go to the Emergency Room and see if she needs to be admitted for exploratory surgery. Thinking back, I do not think I said one single prayer during those four days. I was numb. In my mind I am thinking that this can not be happening. Not to my child. That is the day I realized that I have so much work to do on my journey with God. I thought I trusted in Him.....my trust is conditional. I thought I had complete faith in his Divine Mercy......my faith wavers when it is one of my own children. Could it be that after all these years of comforting and reassuring others that I do not trust in my own belief? Can I be that much of a hypocrite? And then I did what I should have done from day one......I asked for prayers for Raychel's diagnosis and healing. The prayers were comforting. It was as if huge loving arms were wrapped around us. But I still did not trust that all will be okay and as it should be. How can her being ill be what was in the plan? My Buddy would never let anything bad happen to our Ray of Sunshine! And then I had to ask myself why I thought that I would never be tested. Isn't God's testing of our faith what makes us stronger? It is now my turn. It is pass or fail time at the Mynarciks.

We will be at the hospital this afternoon running another test to determine what course of action is needed to get Raychel well. I will be praying for complete healing. However, I will also be asking God to give me strength and renew my faith when the diagnosis is made. Whatever comes of today I must trust that He will be there holding us in his arms and assuring us that whatever the out come, He is in control.....and I would not want it any other way.

Standing by as a warrior of prayer for Feryn and Tanner!

I have been silent for awhile. Hopefully some of you have missed me. During my absence the only thing that comes to mind is my sorrow for others. The pain I feel for others prevents me from digging deep into my own soul and writing a blog about life adventures with the ability to look at all perspectives and come up with a lesson. When I am so deeply in thought over a specific person or persons, my own thoughts are biased. My own thoughts turn against me in an attempt to make me write about things I do not know, but fear. If I am going to get to the next level and be able to blog again, I have to address the things that have been taking over my soul and thought process these past few weeks.

The first is Feryn. Anyone who has read my blog knows that Feryn is our cousin who is at Cook’s in Dallas fighting for her life against the evil we call Gangiloneuroblastoma Stage 4. Feryn is such a fighter and nothing that they bring to the table to discuss is off limits. She is fighting and welcomes any and all tools that will help her fight. She is now in California with a doctor who has a new plan and she has had Radiation to the levels that she cannot come home for awhile. After the levels return to a safe point, they will take tests to determine if this round has done anything to ward off the cancer that is slowly trying to consume her. She has assured us she will not give up without a fight. She looks so tired and her parents are exhausted from grief and support and prayer. I am humbled by this little 8 year old girl.

I am nothing if I am not honest so writing this next part is difficult but I would not be ME if I did not tell all.

We were on our way to go see Feryn at St. Mary’s Church of the Assumption in West. Raychel was singing in the stations of the cross with the St. Jerome’s youth group. We had to be there by 6pm and were running late due to traffic. When we reached El Chico traffic had stopped and we were at a standstill way behind. We could not see up ahead and then eventually we came across an accident. We were irritated since it was taking so long to clean up and we would miss hearing Raychel sing the song that moves the audience. In my mind I was inconvenienced by this accident. I am ashamed of those thoughts now. At the time I was caught up in the fast paced life we have created for ourselves. It only took a few minutes for reality to hit me smack dab in the heart.  I started humming the song Raych was going to sing and then glanced over to my right and saw a red car being put on a trailer. The entire back end appeared to be missing. I stopped humming. I just stared. I did not even turn to my husband when I said, “Oh Dear God, please be with whomever was in that back seat. I pray that no one was in there and all is good. God please let this turn out okay.” Louie just sat in the silence of deep thought. Then I started humming again.

Down the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem that day
The soldiers tried to clear the narrow street
But the crowd pressed in to see
A Man condemned to die on Calvary

He was bleeding from a beating, there were stripes upon His back
And He wore a crown of thorns upon His head
And He bore with every step
The scorn of those who cried out for His death

Down the Via Dolorosa called the way of suffering
Like a lamb came the Messiah, Christ the King,
But He chose to walk that road out of
His love for you and me.
Down the Via Dolorosa, all the way to Calvary.

The blood that would cleanse the souls of all men
Made its way through the heart of  Jerusalem.

Down the Via Dolorosa called the way of suffering
Like a lamb came the Messiah, Christ the King
But He chose to walk that road out of His love for you and me
Down the Via Dolorosa, all the way to Calvary.

Such a powerful song. I just felt extreme heart ache after this. No actual reason but my heart felt like it was going to just fall out of my chest. We make it to the church in time and we go through the stations of the cross and Raychel’s singing was even more beautiful than the last time. She sang with so much feeling; almost like it was for someone. Afterwards we hugged Feryn and laughed about her stories from the hospital and heard about all the wonderful people she is meeting there and I just stood there looking at this now fragile being and thinking where does all this strength come from? Then the line “But he chose to walk that road out of His love for you and me” popped into my head. Her faith in His power is the strength behind this little girl.

When we got home someone had either tweeted, face booked, or texted Raychel to tell her that Tanner was in an accident. I stood still waiting to hear if it was the accident we had come across. Then I get a message from others saying they had passed that same accident without knowing it was our child Tanner. Any child in Lorena is my child. I am still a firm believer that it takes a village and if that does not work it takes a few strong Mama’s with a big stick and that always seems to set things straight. I do not want to live in a community where others cannot call on me for help or vice versa. For days I heard nothing. Tanner’s condition was very private. We continued to pray. Then one day I came across the Caring Bridge Website when I was reading the latest entry on Feryn.  From the first few words I was drawn into this family who does not even know me. I feel their pain. I feel their anguish and I am feeling something that I am sure they do too but are too kind to post. Louie asks every day for the updates. Tanner is now part of our family. There is a sadness that hangs around me all day every day. I do not sleep well anyway but now in my waking hours my thoughts are on Tanner and his family. My dedication to his father’s heartwarming blog and to prayer for his recovery has actually prevented me from my own healing by way of writing in my blog. But that is how it works. I get a few steps ahead and then I get a call from UPtown that I am needed to help others, even if it is just by prayer. Maybe sometime soon it will be my turn again.

Between Feryn and Tanner my life has changed. Without going into too much detail I just know that there are things I would fight for that I do not even care about anymore. There are arguments I would not give into that I just say “Psshh, Whatever!” because my strength needs to be saved for prayer and positive vibes for my two babies. I look at Raychel and I am so damn thankful and then I feel guilty that the Schultes and Underwoods are having this battle with the unknown.

I’m trying not to question my Buddy up in Heaven since it usually only gets me a punishment of reading versus in the bible and a lesson on faith and trust. Then I feel even worse for not believing in Him. So in lieu of “What were you thinking God? How can this stuff happen? How can these two babies and their families suffer so much when others do not even realize the good they have? Fairness? Justness?" ... I will instead say “Thank you God my savior for always showing me that with faith and prayer all things are possible. Thank you for being with the Underwoods as they bring back their son. I know it is You who is making all the good things yet to come and will share them when the time is right. I know that You led Feryn to these doctors with this new treatment so they can know that there was not one stone left unturned. Thank You for taking care of me so that I am strong and can pray for others."

In closing, know it is okay to ask “WHY?” Also know that when you ask you may not get the answer you want. But if you have faith in Him and His will to be our savior, you will eventually know the true answer. Patience is NOT a virtue of mine. I have zero. But that is okay, since more was given to the Schultes and the Underwoods and I am gladly allowing them to have my share.

A mother's love for her son.

For the past 40 days we Catholics have been observing Lent. The Lenten Season leads up to Good Friday which is the day that Jesus, our Savior, was brutally murdered by way of being nailed to a cross in mockery of what he was graciously doing for all of us, whether we were grateful or not. Such an unselfish act.

On Good Friday I often try to put myself in the sandals of the Virgin Mary. Although she was many things to many people, on this day she was a mother. “THE” mother of all time.  I sit in church and wonder what she must have gone through as she watched on in horror. What could she have done? How could she allow this to happen without trying to “save” her son? How can she just let things be as they were intended? God chose the right woman. I truly believe there was never before and never will be again, a mother such as Mary. Her courage and ability to not let her pain interfere with God’s plan makes her the most unselfish person of all time. Jesus gave his life….but Mary gave her son’s life when she would have gladly traded places with him if it would have been allowed. My heart aches every time I think of it. The pain must have been unbearable to the point of wanting to die right alongside her precious son but was cruelly forced to live her life without him. I am sure she would have welcomed death. The love of a mother for her son is one of the most powerful feelings in the world. This is a fact I know all too well.

Our son came home for Easter like he has every single year since he left for college. This is not “my”  holiday  but his father’s. (My “must have” is Christmas Eve!) It is a family tradition for the men and boys in the Mynarcik family to celebrate Good Friday by going to a fishing spot and  hanging out together, drinking, eating and telling crazy stories of the years past. The once small circle of men has grown in size to allow room for treasured friends and extended family.  The next two days we just relax and enjoy each other’s company.  Then in a blink of an eye we have to say good-bye again.

As we are standing at the glass partition in the airport that separates us from our son, we cannot speak. My husband moves closer to the glass as if this will somehow relieve the pain of seeing him go. My daughter, who is heartbroken and sobbing because her only brother is leaving again, is standing halfway between me, who is standing all the way in the back so my son cannot see my tears, and her father who is still watching his only son go through the customs line.  And then our son turns one last time and waves goodbye...then he is gone.

As we all turn away to silently walk to the car, I glance at my husband who is now so heartbroken he cannot stop the tears. I see his shoulders shake with silent sobs. I have stood by and watched the scene unfold. Even though I am aching with sadness and would give almost anything to have him stay, I know that is not as it was intended. Like Mary, no matter how much it hurts to watch him get on that plane, I cannot interfere with what was meant to be. Our son is living his own life and that life has taken him far away from “home”.  Hopefully one day he will choose to move back to Texas but until then we must do the hardest thing any parents can do and unselfishly stand by and let him go.

Our son texted the second he got on the plane and said he will miss us and loves us. Through my tears I texted back and told him that his leaving gets harder and harder on his father as the years pass. To make light of the situation I told him I did not know if this was due to his age or having to be stuck alone with Raychel and me.  My son’s reply: “I do believe it is a little of both!”  What a smart aleck….God, I miss him!

The scent of years past.

Have you ever walked into a store and for a split second your mind drifts back to another time but you just can't place it? Or perhaps a bakery where the smells transcend you to your childhood and grandmother's pie or in my case, my Tante Rosi's cheesecake? Does a certain perfume remind you of someone special?

I call these occurrences "Memory Scents".

I remember the first time I went back to Germany for a visit. I was already overwhelmed with emotion when the plane was descending and I saw the city of Frankfurt below. All these thoughts were running together in my head. I was with my Mutti and I asked her if she felt the same way. She said (In her Hessen dialect), "Pass mal auf wenn du im Flughaven bist!" She was right! The moment I stepped into the airport I could smell my memories. I cried.

This morning my Avon lady (yes they still have those) delivered my goodies. I always forget what I ordered so it is a fun surprise. Mascara, blue eyeliner, purple eyeliner, the new eyeshadow Quad in Smoke & Mirrors and .......another lip gloss. If you have read my blog then you know of my addiction to lipsticks. My embarrassment of ordering yet another lip product was short lived as I opened the black box and took out the treasure inside. For some reason, totally foreign to me at the moment, I ordered a Fruity Lip Juice in Tangerine. Why? Raychel wears clear gloss. I am an old woman. Tangerine Fruity Lip Juice? Seriously?

I took the cap off, slowly squeezed the tube and watched a tiny bead of tangerine colored sparkles rise to the surface of the rounded tip. I carefully ran the tube back and forth over my lips and then I smelled the memory! It took me a second to place the exact moment in time and then it was as if it was yesterday! I wore tangerine lip smackers as a teenager! My first kiss was engulfed in the scent and taste of tangerine! I am now sitting here with my shiny lips and all these wonderful memories of my years in Germany and my first "love" are going through my head.

Perhaps it was by accident. Perhaps it was my subconscious trying to get me to feel young again. I truly have no idea what made me order this particular gloss but I am most thankful. As I daydream about all the things I would have done differently and all the things that I would never change during those teenage years, I think I will take the Electric Blue Eyeliner that I ordered for Raychel out of the box and give it a whirl. I am sure this will transcend me to the 80's and if I remember correctly I was smokin' back then! (sigh) Where have the years gone?

Prom is in the air- duck and hide!

With the rains gone, everything in bloom and the sunshine making everything feel like spring, Spring Fever has affected every teenager I know. No one wants to sit in a classroom no matter how exciting the teachers try and make it. For girls, thoughts go like this: “the square root of 5 is..….five hours until I can go tan….tan-the color of the shorts I saw at the Buckle, buckle-I saw a cute belt at Forever 21….$21 is all I have for the movies Friday night” and it goes on and on.  Before you know it class is over and NOTHING has been absorbed regarding the lesson. The teacher mistook those wide eyes staring off into space as doors to a brain that was thinking of the lesson at hand. Pshhh, yeah right.  That same teacher acts shocked when test time comes and there is no grade over 85 and the few who made that grade guessed on 50% of the answers.  Spring Fever is viral.  It has taken over the body and minds of our youth. There is no cure. We must all just sit back and let it runs its course.

And if the fever was not enough to make an adult crazy, Prom is thrown smack dab in the middle of the chaos. The focus is much more intense on Prom then it was on Spring Break so this gives you some sort of idea of what we parents are going through. From one day to the next Prom plans change. There are so many emotions regarding who is asking whom, who is wearing what, who will be the most fun group, who will look the prettiest, which guy will be the most handsome? Guys start acting like jerks because they do not understand the female perspective on Prom. Girls then get even more emotional and can not understand how they can be so nonchalant about this important event. Listen up guys, IT IS NOT about you at all! Not the least little bit. DO NOT take it personally! It is about the dress and shoes and hair and make-up and nails and tans. Oh they will tell you it is because they want to make you proud and happy to have chosen them as your date. Lies! All lies! It is a great thought and the girls have the best intentions but at the end of the day it is all about them. They can’t help it. Magazines and stores flaunt all the sparkle and glitz starting in January. The sales clerks all but call the girl “homely” if she is not asked to prom and does not wear a $300 and up dress. Other girls start being even more catty than before and start talking crap about each other's outfits and Prom plans are thrown into every conversation. Good friends are now not speaking to each other because a guy asked a girl that some other guy wanted to ask and a girl said yes to a guy that some other girl wanted to go with. Ahhh....can you feel the love?

Ask your moms guys, we did not spend this much money or fuss on our own weddings! It has all gotten out of hand. But as parents and dates of the girls we must endure and get through the next few weeks.

Gentlemen, take my advice and save yourself much aggravation between now and the big day…….voice your opinion ONCE. Tell them what you would like to wear ONCE. Suggest a restaurant ONCE. Then get out of the way. Hopefully on the eve of the event, these beautiful ladies will once again have some sort of sane thought in their heads and you will have a good time and they will make it up to you. However, if you feel they are getting too out of control during the process, agree with everything they say and then wear a chartreuse tux with a top hat and cane, put streamers on your truck, pick her up and take her to Arby’s for dinner and then call it a night!  

Happy Prom ladies and to all the guys I say “Bless your heart. You hang in there Sport, it’s almost over!”

After the storm......

Texas is known for its horrific spring storms that bring amazing lightening shows, damaging hail the size of golf balls and deadly tornadoes.....and then just as quickly as they come, they are gone.

Unlike 95% of the population who can sleep like a baby in a thunderstorm, I cannot even sleep if there is heavy rain. It is not because of fear or worry, it is just the sounds of the storm that keep me awake. While roaming through the house most of the night I looked in on my daughter fast asleep in her bed and I could hear my husband snoring all the way into the kitchen. I was curious if the dog had made her way to the shop and was resting in her bed and I wondered where the cat was hiding since he hates storms. As I stood at the back door and watched the beautiful lightening show I gave thought to how something this beautiful could be the companion to such destruction.

 I called my mother to check on her and she only spoke of how bad the storm was and how there is water in the yard and things were blown around and how she was up all night worrying. As I am listening I look outside. The sun is now shining and it is another beautiful day in Texas. I keep listening and then try to interject with a "But look how pretty it is now" and my comment goes unnoticed. There is just sadness and negative comments about how bad the storm was. Nothing I could say would make her see that all is now right again. When I call again later I know we will discuss the storm again and I am certain she will have found more damage the storm has done.

Our lives are much like a storm...Lightening, Hail and Destruction. We are blessed with an abundance of beauty and light, we are often damaged by situations that come our way and sadly we know all too well the heartbreak of death and destruction.

The way we viewed this storm is the way we live our lives. My mother will dwell on the bad, even though it is now over and she will let it ruin her day. I will remember the beautiful show and be thankful that everyone I know made it through safely. Others are not so lucky. I am grateful. 

Some storms last longer than others. Some storms leave behind damage that requires massive cleanup. Some storms will change our lives forever. We have a choice; we can let it consume us and ruin whatever good we have in our lives or we can seek peace in knowing God has made sure that there has never, ever been darkness that was not followed by light and there has never, ever been a storm that was not followed by sunshine.

Happy Birthday Son!

Today is my son’s birthday. I can remember every detail of the day he was born. My heart is overflowing with love for this soul that God has blessed us with.

Lou was working out of town the first few years of our marriage. I was always concerned that I would have the baby while he was away. I do believe I was one of those young mothers that had “contractions” starting in my fifth month. Yes, I was one of those…..hanging my head….and I swore I was having this baby every weekend until he actually arrived. I was due on February 18 and my mother came up to stay with me during the week while Lou was gone just so she could be there if needed. We would sit and wait and sit and wait as the days turned into weeks. I remember her saying “If I have to watch the show “Quincy” one more time I am going to scream” since this meant another week had gone by.  Back then the doctors only did one ultrasound during your pregnancy and they made an educated guess of when you were due and then adjusted it as you went along. Although they guessed I was having a girl they were not sure. By the first part of the second week of March when they realized that Nathan was breach and did not have room to flip on his own they finally scheduled a C-section for the morning of Monday, March 14. 1983.

Louie made arrangements to take off that week and we spent the weekend getting ready. I was HUGE! I gained 70 pounds and I was exhausted. I ate my usual Saturday night pizza from the West Pizza House and we went to bed late. At 2:15 we were laying in bed and all of a sudden my stomach stretched out the size of beach ball and I felt this tumbling kick. I jumped up and was standing on the bed as I watched the stretch marks pull apart and then in a matter of seconds my water broke.  Nathan had decided he was ready to come into this world and actually stood on end inside my stomach and flipped himself around so as not to be breach anymore. The pressure of this tumbling act caused my water to break with such force that the curtains and bedding and carpet were caught in the cross fire. We had a toy poodle that was always by my side (loved that dog!) …….poor Brandy…she was soaking wet! She just stood there frozen on the bed not knowing what to do. When I jumped off the bed and went to the bathroom to take a bath (yes…I took a bath since we had no shower in our old 2-story home) and get ready for the addition to our family, Louie called my parents and his parents and sister.

My parents lived well over an hour away but they beat me to the hospital. My father was pacing up and down the halls. My mother still had wet hair from her shower. By this time I was having small contractions and I was confident that I could handle this. I thought these pains that I was having on the way to the hospital were what I was to expect during the course of delivery. I am sure all the mothers reading this are laughing and knowing what comes next! When I got there they said I need an enema. A what? I am having a baby from my front, why am I having to empty my back? I did as I was told. The pain got worse. Now I was second guessing my decision to have a natural child birth “for the sake of the baby”.

It is now about 6 am and I am in full blown labor. I remember telling Lou that he better find someone who can give me something for this pain or I was actually going to kill him. That “something” never came. My mother came in and she tried to make it all better like she always had but there was no reasoning with me.  I wanted to see my Daddy but I told them to make sure he came between contractions since I did not want him to see me in pain. The contractions were closer together now and they had to hurry. He came in and I remember the tears in his eyes and then it hit me…..the mother of all contractions! He was horrified! Here was his baby girl having his grandchild and there was nothing he could do to ease my pain. I told him to go and he kissed me on the forehead and went and got Louie. By 7am I was in so much pain and was hyperventilating from the breathing technique they taught us in Lamaze,  I think I blacked out for a few minutes. When I regained a sense of where I was I realized I was in the delivery room. It was time for Nathan to be welcomed into the fold. At 7:20 am I heard the first cry of the most beautiful soul I have ever known; my son. The disappointment of not having a baby girl was soon lost to the never felt before feelings in my heart. Only a mother knows what I am talking about. The moment I held him there was nothing else on earth more important to me. God had just entrusted me with his angel and it was my job to be the best mom I could be.  I hope I did Him proud.

Happy Birthday Nathan (a gift from God) John (given by God- also masculine for Johanna which was my Grandmother’s name)- you are my most precious gift and I love you more than you will ever know….until you have a precious child of your own.

And by the way…….natural child birth is highly over-rated. I did not even get a gold star for my scrap book!

I've got the music in me!

As a young teen some of my favorite times were sitting on the front steps of the building with friends waiting for Casey Kasem's America’s Top 40 to come on the boom box placed carefully beside us. Most times it was the highlight of our week. We would tease each other about what song would be number one and we knew the words to all of the top 20 songs if not the entire countdown.  When we were in High School they would have dances at the school and we would all dance to our favorite tunes and hum them all the way home.  Music was our life. There were songs for every emotion one could possibly feel; breakups, make-ups, loss of a loved one, loss of a pet, extreme joy and those times you just wanted to “get down and boogie” with Boogie Fever.

My favorite genre of Music is Motown 70’s. It was the era of all the soul songs that artists today just cannot hold a candle to and all the dance songs that kids today think are “retro cool”.  These songs have a way of creeping inside my head and staying for hours. No one can tell. I just sit and work and keep them all to myself.

This morning I logged into AOL online music and selected Urban 70’s. All of a sudden a phrase I must have heard somewhere along the way popped into my head “Most of us go to our graves with our music still inside of us.”

Why is it that I do not sing along, get up and dance, hum or even just “shoulder shimmy” to the brilliant works of my favorite artists?  Is it because I am now a grown up? Do I have to display some level of decorum? Is there some unspoken rule that says I cannot burst out in song and jump up and dance around my office for a few minutes?

 Pondering……………..NOPE! I have only myself to blame if I go to my grave with my music still inside of me.  There is music inside of all of us and even if it is only for a few minutes, LET IT OUT!! Sing and dance and enjoy the moment!

I am turning up my music and I am going to sing out loud! I am getting up out of this office chair and I  am going to shake my groove thing……..excuse me while I go close my office door.

30 years later......

Yesterday was my and Lou's 30th wedding anniversary. This momentous occasion sparked a desire to look back at our union and reflect on the journey that brought us to this place.

We were very young when we got married....well I was! :) There was so much we thought we knew and so many battles we fought that really do not matter at all anymore. In all honesty, they didn’t matter 30 minutes after they happened. Proving to each other who was right, who was wrong, who gets to pick, who gets to compromise and who is the first to raise the white flag now seems like such a waste of precious time. We raised two children, live in our second home, are now on our fourth dog and second cat. We lost grandparents, parents and precious friends along the way. No matter where we were in our relationship with each other, time did not stand still and life for all kept going. There have been so many sad tears, unbearable heartaches, major frustrations and miles of hurdles to overcome. I choose not to think about those....instead I am smiling as I think about the tears of joy, the many things that made my heart overflow with love and happiness, the things that fell into place when we least expected them to and the ability we had to overcome all of life's obstacles.

Louie greeted me at 7 am with "Happy Anniversary my Love" in his quirky sarcastic tone and was actually excited to turn on the radio to listen to birthdays and anniversaries. The song "It's Five O'clock Somewhere" came on and he laughed since this is his favorite song. I rolled my eyes. Then, unbelievably the next song was "Amarillo by Morning" which was our favorite song when we were dating. We both could not believe it. It was like the DJ knew that these two songs are perfect for this day. Then we waited with excitement for the announcement "Louie and Sissy married 30 years!" Every year our relatives call in our anniversary and birthdays. No one has ever missed a date. Every person in the family gets announced on their special day. We waited. It never came. Wouldn’t you know it? The one day we are PROUD to have a milestone announced to the world, no one in the family remembered to call it in!

We looked at each other and busted out laughing! I then hugged him and said "Happy Anniversary Louie! Damn we are old!" and I pecked him on the cheek as we both went out the door in two different directions just like every other day.

On this day, I thank God for 30 amazing years with my best friend who accepts me for who I am; for better or worse...and believe me when I say, "I have been "worse" far more than I have been "better"!"

Poor Lou! Bless his heart.

From the outside looking in.

Louie and I were driving home from a basketball game and we drove through little towns that had tiny old houses with the lights on.  This brought back the memories of when I was a kid. I voiced out loud that I wonder what people in those houses were doing. Family time? Reading? Cleaning? Cooking? To my surprise my husband told me that when he was growing up he did the same thing. When he walked through the neighborhood he would see people at the kitchen table and imagine what they were doing. It was such a fun conversation since I never knew anyone did this but me. He told me by name who lived where and what he imagined they were doing. Knowing these people today made us both laugh since he was not too far off from his imagination.

Growing up in Germany and living in an Army housing area, you pretty much walked everywhere you went. I look back fondly on the walks I used to take with my mother and dog, Susie. We would walk all through the housing area and talk about things that happened during the day and just enjoy the evening. The buildings consisted of three stairwells with three apartments on each side of the stairwell with a connecting basement. There were 18 families per building and then there were maid quarters that were amazing (another blog! ) and families coming to and leaving Germany would stay in them when needed so these were referred to as temporary quarters. The large front window allowed you to see into the living room and the back window gave access to the dining room. In the evening when we walked every unit had lights on and you could see straight into the apartments and see what each family was doing. I loved this. I would imagine all these wonderful things going on in each family and often would be a bit jealous if they were playing family games or laughing and having a good time. Husbands and wives would be snuggled together  watching one of the 5 shows that we had access to.  I would imagine where the family came from and what their life was like. In the winter the windows would be a bit fogged and it painted a picture  that  Norman Rockwall could have done. Kids in pajamas sitting around the dining room table playing games and eating snacks. Their lives seemed so perfect. I often wondered why our life was not like that.

Later I realized, my life was exactly like that! What I did not see through those frosted windows was the stress of raising a family in a foreign country, the mounds of bills that needed to be paid, parents disciplining their children to raise caring and productive citizens, kids arguing over who had the last turn at the spinner on the board game, the tears from a broken hearted teenage girl whose boyfriend broke up with her, the aching heart of a teenage boy who wants to be in the U.S. with the friends he just left behind…….what I did not see was the burden of life. What I did see was the reward of getting through each day.  If someone would have looked into our window they would have seen a loving family living the military life and holding on to the wonderful moments of just being together; just like all the other families we shared our lives with.

I know now, no matter how grand or how dilapidated a home may be, when you get a glimpse of the family inside, what you see is a mere snapshot out of  an entire album of life.

The Sacrifice of Lent.

During the Lenten season, aside from the  “No meat on Ash Wednesday or every Friday until Easter” we each choose another vice to “give up” to prove that we are obedient and can make sacrifices. When I woke up this morning and realized it was Ash Wednesday I knew I had but a couple of hours to make my decision.

Let me start by saying I am the first to admit that I am not the most obedient Catholic. I believe in what the Catholic church stands for and I adore our Blessed Mary. I believe that the host and wine are the body and blood of Christ and I believe in the power and importance of Saints. There are some things that I do not agree with but I think I will keep those private since this blog is not about religion. I have never questioned why we do not eat meat on Fridays of Lent. I just don’t. I also never questioned why we gave up something for 40 days. I just do.

I have been thinking all morning of what would constitute a sacrifice on my part.

Chocolate or other desserts? I am already on a diet so this would only benefit me further.

Wine? Okay I can do that without much effort.

Coffee? Well, this would be a sacrifice that would put me in the hospital or nut ward so I do not think God wants me to do that! J

What is Lent really about? How does Lent affect ME? After much reflection I have come to the conclusion that Lent should be about giving up something that prevents you from giving to someone else; a sacrifice that benefits someone deserving.  In light of this revelation I need to GIVE of myself by taking away something that consumes my time.

Hmmm….what consumes me and takes up my time……FACEBOOK AND TWITTER! Egad! Can I do it? Can I cut myself off from my FB family? I made a half-hearted attempt last year so I need to prove to myself I can do it. Only one way to find out!

Okay now that I know what I am giving up, what will take its place? What can I “give” in those extra 5 minutes a day?  Wait! My inner voice is laughing hysterically. 5 minutes? How about 2 hours? No way! I am on FB and Twitter two hours a day?  Goodness, I am now excited. The possibilities are endless. Maybe this year I WILL make a difference in someone’s life!

As you approach Lent, think about giving instead of sacrificing. Just think about how much you have to offer and how wonderful it will be to share yourself with those that need you!  

Now go get your ashes on!

Southern hospitality.

Europeans and Southerners have a lot in common, most noticeably their hospitality.

When you visit a friend or relative in Germany, it immediately becomes Kaffe Stund which means a fresh pot of coffee is brewing and it is time for open faced sandwiches or cake. Everyone gathers in the living room where the coffee table is actually utilized for serving coffee. The coffee table is much taller in Germany and has a marble top or is covered in the finest linen tablecloth so that you can comfortably eat and drink on it when seated on the sofa or chair.

When visiting a true Southerner, a drink of some sort is immediately thrust in your hand and you can hear the drawl of "Bless your heart, come have something to eat!" and in the blink of an eye there are chips, dips, sausage, bread, cheese and homemade pickles on the table in the kitchen so that everyone can gather around and catch up on life’s events while drinking and eating.

I love family gatherings........except when I am on a diet.

I believe just saying aloud the word "diet" causes heads to turn, eyes to widen, eyebrows to raise and your host to become a drug pusher.  Practice has enabled your host to say "Just one bite! Stop being so silly! You can get back on track tomorrow! One more glass of wine! What is wrong with you? You are being rude!" all in one breath while pouring wine between your fingers that are covering your glass. It is a skill that one learns from watching grandmothers, mothers and aunts throughout the years. A southerner's determination to get you to eat and drink has no match. Protesting politely falls on deaf ears. Getting loud sets off the overdrive button and the pursuit to be a great hostess becomes magnified by 10. Eventually you just sit there and say nothing and do as you are told.

Last Friday I was determined to say "no". Upon entry into the kitchen I was handed a full glass of wine. We were all going out to eat so not eating snacks could be excused due to not wanting to spoil my appetite. I took a couple of sips from the wine and it was like the magical wine bottle in "The Bishop's Wife" that kept refilling itself. In my head I was counting Weight Watcher points. For every ounce I sipped I had to count one point. I had made up my mind that I was not going to use up all my points just trying to be polite. The louder I said the words NO THANK YOU, the more determined my uncle became. He stood beside me and looked into my eyes and did a stare down until I held out my still full glass so that he could "top it off”. I just sighed as I weakened and took another tiny sip. My daughter got my attention and mouthed the words "Don't drink it!" from across the room. Now I felt strong again......and I left it on the table when we went out to eat.

Of course when we came back after dinner my uncle got  my unfinished wine and brought it to me. Instead of arguing this time, I politely took the glass and set it on the table beside me. As the evening went on all I could think about was how I was going to get out of drinking this wine. And then my beautiful cousin asked me to come to the kitchen to talk to her and I jumped up and smiled and yelled "Let me get my wine first!" and I grabbed the glass and headed to the kitchen where I promptly poured 8 WW points down the drain. As all of you Southerners and Europeans know, we do not waste food...ever!.....so this was very hard for me, but I had no choice.

Of course I learned a lesson. Even though I love to offer my guests food and drink and I have often been pushy and said the same things that my uncle said to me Friday night, from now on I will offer but I will not force you to accept my hospitality. What I thought was being a great hostess was exactly the opposite. As of today I will listen to my guests and even though I will hound you by asking again and again until you at least take a glass of water with a lemon wedge, I will try to be understanding when you say, very loudly and forcefully, "NO!!".  This is not going to be easy........for either of us!

The perfect shade.

Everyone has something that they just cannot collect enough of. My "treasure" is lipstick. This is quite humorous because I rarely wear any. I have about 30 different kinds in all colors and all forms. There is glossy, glittery, satin finish, semi permanent, bold, barely there and lip plumping gloss. I am addicted.

This morning I actually wanted to put on lipstick and when it took me 8 minutes to choose a color I realized that I had a problem. Why do I have so many? I pondered.....

I have come to the realization that my lipstick purchases are like my life. I am searching for the perfect shade. Out of all the colors I have there is not one single color that screams "perfect". They are too orange or too dark or too red and it goes on and on. In all of my collection there is not a single one that is "the" one. Every time I see a new shade I snatch it up and take it home and try it with hopes that this will be "it" only to suffer through another disappointment. Perhaps I am searching for something I already have? Perhaps if I took a couple and mixed them together they would be the perfect shade?

Such is my life. There is not one thing that is perfect. When I focus on the negative of each part it leaves me searching for more. Even though there are many bits and pieces that are not quite right, if I took the best part of each one and combined them perhaps it would be "just right".

My lipstick cannot be one shade that goes with everything, but a combination of shades that change with time.....just like the color of my life.

I just glanced in the mirror and I kind of like this shade after all! :)

I am proud of you!

As a child I remember being deliriously happy when my father was proud of something I had done. These moments were rare and far between for two reasons; my father was a strict military man who did not show emotion very often and it was "expected" that we do our best. The equally rare times when I disappointed him hurt me far more than it did him. It was the worst feeling in the world to have my daddy disapprove.

Looking back this did not change as I grew older. I was always my parent's daughter and even though I made my own decisions and suffered the consequences or celebrated successes, when my parents approved it was all that much more meaningful.

As a parent I am a lot like my father was. I expect no less than the best from my children. Even though I tell them often how proud I am of them I assume they know what is expected. When my youngest falls short of doing her best, I am the first to bring it to her attention. I am not nice about it either. I "expect" her to work hard. I "expect" her to get it all done. I "expect" her to want my approval.  Shakespeare said “Expectation is the root of all heartache.”   I say, "To live without expectation is to live without motivation". Can we both be right? Being a good parent means not being your child's best friend. We have to make unpopular decisions knowing that our children will "hate" us for it. I never expected my children to like me or approve of my decisions. I did however expect them to respect me. And they do.

Since my father has passed I have not sought the approval of anyone. I am now a grown-up. I no longer need to hear the words "I am proud of you!".......or so I thought.

Yesterday I realized I was wrong.  My son told me he liked something that I was doing. He actually approved! I can not tell you how that made me feel. My eyes began to water and my heart swelled with pride.....in myself!! I never knew I needed my kids' approval. I never knew I needed to hear the words "I am proud of you!" from my own children. I never knew how much it means to me for my son to notice my efforts. I know now that we never truly outgrow our desire to make those we love proud including our own children. 

This new revelation has me thinking.......I wonder if my kids actually "like" me? Let me enjoy this moment a little while longer before I ask...I am afraid of the answer!

A simple piece of jewelry.......

As we get older and "lose" ourselves to our family, careers and everything else that gets in the way of being "you" we tend to get lax in appearance. This is how we go from a size 10 to a size 28. This is how we go from wearing designer clothes with all the matching shoes, purses and jewelry to just throwing on what fits and makes you feel comfortable. This is what happened to me.

Whenever I left the house I was always chic from head to toe. I was raised in Europe and outward appearance had more value placed on it than it should have. Whenever the latest boots hit the stores, I had them. When a designer coat came out on the runway, I had it. It was not because we tried to be someone that we were not. It was just because that is how things were. It was the norm.

I  moved back to the USA when I was a junior in HS. I arrived with silk pants, satin shirts and high heeled boots with spurs well before they ever became popular here in the states. All of my clothes were from Europe and you could tell just from looking at them. I turned heads wherever I went. My clothes and jewelry and just the way I carried myself seemed to cause a spectacle in the Texas town we lived in. I never even thought of changing to conform to the masses. I was me. This was how I dressed. I liked it and did not care one tiny bit what others thought about it.

I am still the same in many ways today. I do not care what others think of the way I dress. I dress for me and only me. But now comes the sad part....I had gotten to the point where I did not care how I looked anymore. I wear minimal make-up, hair in a pony tail most of the time, jeans and Doc Martin’s. When I have to dress up I get irritated since I do not want to wear heels, hose or fix my hair. What has happened to the girl who took pride in the way she looked and took the extra time to add that special touch to any outfit?

I'll tell you what happened! She got old, fat and too darn tired to care. She was so busy taking extra care that her family left the house looking like a million bucks. Everything is clean, ironed and stylish. They look wonderful and I stand beside them looking like a blob. The worst part is that I accepted this role without a fight.

One may ask what made me blog about this today. It is rather simple, really. I got up this morning and opened a drawer and saw this gorgeous turquoise and brown necklace. I put it on and looked at myself. I smiled. I then put on clothes to match that I have not worn in years. I then looked for shoes I had not yet worn this year to complete the outfit.  I even put on lip gloss before leaving the house. The one gesture of putting on this necklace is a significant step to finding my way back to "me". It is a turning point.

Whenever you see me about town and I have a pony tail and jeans and Doc Martin's, please forgive me. But I am hoping the next time you see me you will notice that I have a style again. You may not like my new style or you may think that I still have a lot of work to do but I say to you "I do not care if you like it and thanks for noticing!"

Now go put on a necklace that you have not worn in years and smile!

The day you realize you've grown up.

There comes a time when you know you are a grown-up.  One never knows where or when that will be or what crazy thing will trigger this revelation but when it happens, it  is bittersweet. 

My best friend’s daughter was being inducted into the NHS and of course I wanted to witness this ceremony. My daughter and I went and we sat with my BFFFLE (An acronym the girls made up “Best Freaking Friend Forever Life and Eternity!) and her younger daughter. Her husband sat behind us. The ceremony was touching as teachers, coaches, and school administrators had selected students to talk about. They recalled meeting the student, what the student’s beliefs are and touched on the ways that each student met the strenuous criteria for being honored with this award. It was a lovely evening…….and then it happened.

A woman who I did not know and do not recall noticing before this evening, came to stand in front of me and asked me what my f***ing problem was. I was still sitting and asked her “Who the heck are you?” and she continued with her tirade and said I needed to stop talking about her daughter.  I was appalled. Here we were in the middle of this prestigious event and a mother of one of the inductees went on the attack. She even got physical. And then she made her gravest mistake……she called my daughter a b****. I do believe that is when I attacked back. No foul words. No yelling. Just a firm tug and the comment “Don’t you ever speak to me or my daughter like that again!”. But she kept on. Her last remark before trying to leave was “F*** you, you fat a**** b****!”  Now as most of you know, I am on a diet. so aside from her stating the obvious, her comment took her to the lowest level I have ever witnessed a human being going at a public event and I am an Army Brat who has traveled the world. My daughter was in tears. My best friend tried to find a way to help. Others around are now fully aware of this altercation and I am torn between my youth and my adulthood. As she leaves I grab the principal and tell him that he needs to intervene because at this point I am not quite sure which way I was going with this. She continued her tirade in front of the principal and all the while I am asking her “What are you talking about?” And she just kept with the expletives. She was a lovely example for her newly inducted daughter….and I told her this. As she was being told to leave she tried one last attempt to get me to hit her. Yes, you read that right. She kept saying hit me, “Hit me, go ahead and touch me!” the entire time. Then she called me another name and that is when my youth could not be contained any longer and I started to go after her and told her that this was now enough and I was just going to have to kick her…well, you know.  Then she said that was a threat and she was getting the police. I told her it was a good thing since she was going to need them. 

The entire evening had been ruined. I did not get to take pictures of my lovely daughter #2. People were all talking about it and I am mortified that my daughter and I are associated with this altercation. For those that did not see the entire course of events, it may appear that I was equally involved and for that I am sorry. It was a sad, sad night. Aside from the fact that we now know the ghetto has invaded our home town, I realized I have lost my youth. In this case, that was a good thing. Had this happened 10 years earlier, I would be writing this blog from a jail cell. The adult in me allowed this woman to make a complete fool of herself and of her poor daughter.  I am sorry it happened and that I was involved and even though I wish I would have just let her go on and on and done nothing, I know that I would not have been able to live with myself.  It is not who I am. I am a “mom” and I protect my family and friends at all costs.

The kid in me wanted to teach this crazy woman a lesson in proper etiquette. The adult in me knew that there is no hope for her. For some reason my daughter and I are a threat to her and she needed to lash out.  Her vulgar display will be remembered by those that saw it for years to come. To quote my daughter “I have never, ever, ever, ever seen anything this bad in my life and I played basketball for Storm and I live with you, mom!” …..I guess Raychel has heard stories about my youth! J

Love is in the air...or is it?

February brings with it the smell of roses and chocolate.  Everything is pink, white and red and decorations of hearts and “I Love You” banners adorn every entryway of every store you dare to enter. Cupid cutouts eye you eerily as you pass by like one of those old paintings where the eyes follow you all around the room.  Isn’t it romantic?  Well…..not for all of us.

Valentine’s day can make a normally happy and confident girl feel like a neurotic, depressed “Ugly Betty”.  Believe me, I know. When I was in school some silly group of boosters would sell roses as a fundraiser. You could buy a rose, add a note and they would hand deliver it during class near Valentine’s day. The popular girls walked around with their dozen roses from just as many boys and then the other 95 percent of us would walk the halls empty handed and try desperately not to make eye contact with anyone for fear the tell tale signs of tears would be visible. The worst part was the interruption of the class by a knock on the door and everyone’s heart would skip a beat in anticipation of being one of the “chosen” ones. Then there would be screeching and giggles and  lots of  hugging and jumping up and down while the same girls got yet another rose. It was sheer torture. I hated Valentine’s day.

And then I fell in love with a boy.

I remember our first Valentine’s day together. There was hints all week of what was to come. Every time I thought of it my heart would pound. Thoughts of what I could do to make this day special would consume my every thought. I wanted to show him how much I cared. I wanted others to see how much he is loved.  I wanted to make him feel like the hottest, smartest and most wanted boy to ever grace the halls of our school. I also wanted others to know he chose ME! I could not wait for the knock on the door and the delivery of a single red rose that signified his love for me. At the end of that day, with rose in hand, we went to dinner and he gave me a stuffed animal and a balloon. It was one of the best days of my life.  A few weeks later…….we broke up.

And then I fell in love with a man.

Our first Valentine’s day together was the month before we were to be wed. I wanted this day to be a true reflection of what was to come in our years together as man and wife. I wanted him to know how much I loved him and I hoped he surprised me with a gift to show how much he loved me.  We planned a night out and exchanged cards that held words of lasting love. He gave me perfume and a bracelet and I gave him cologne and a framed picture of the two of us together.  It was so romantic and was one of the best days of my life.  A month later……we got married.

And this will be our 30^th Valentine’s day together.

I have anticipated this day for weeks and I have been searching for the perfect gifts since January…..for our kids.  Raychel’s Valentine’s gift is wrapped and ready. Nathan and Jodi received theirs in the mail last week.  After 29 years of cards and flowers and perfume and chocolates, Louie and I have come to the realization that this one day a year is for the amateurs; people who want to prove to themselves they are in love or are loved.  For those of us who have put up with dirty underwear, toothpaste in the sink, snoring during a romantic comedy and all the other lovely things that come with marriage, chocolate and flowers just doesn’t seem adequate. The fact that we can sit in the living room  on this special day wearing sweats and talking about work, kids and bills is enough proof we love each other. While the rest of the world is either gloriously happy or extremely depressed, we will be in our beds fast asleep…..snoring and looking like “Ugly Betty”.

So for all you teenagers who think that the mere act of getting or giving a Valentine defines who you are, please remember that one day you too will love and be loved by someone so special that there is no card or Valentine’s gift that seems appropriate. Until that day, treat YOURSELF to a box of chocolates and smile. At least you will not have to do the laundry, pay bills or listen to your other half snore on this “special” day.

How can this be God's plan?

Even when my heart was broken in a thousand pieces, I held firm to my belief that God has a plan. I may not agree with it and I have questioned it so many times I should be ashamed but in the end I come to the same conclusion. He is in control. He knows what we do not. He loves us and would never want to harm us.

And then there was Feryn and Hailey.

Feryn is a beautiful, bright, wide eyed little girl who has been diagnosed with Stage 4 Gangiloneuroblastoma. Her life has been turned upside down. She is strong, courageous and determined to fight this evil that wants to take over her little body. Hundreds of people pray for her daily. We have become prayer warriors and keep believing God is good and kind and has this under control. We are afraid to ask why for fear he will not intervene. We blindly trust that His plan will be what is best for all of us. While she is fighting there is hope, right? This can all be okay! Pray, pray, pray and pray some more. And we will continue to pray as she takes this difficult journey.

Hailey is a gorgeous teenager who went to school with Raychel. I do not have all the facts and dates and details but this young lady was diagnosed with a brain tumor about three years ago. She has been fighting for her life ever since. Again, hundreds prayed daily for her cure. We knew God had this under control. We knew that He had a plan. This brave and courageous soul fought with everything that she had and today......................God took her anyway.

And today, I questioned his plan. I felt that maybe he is not in control. How can he love us? How can he be our Father of the most high and let us feel so much pain? How can he leave a mother without her child? How can he allow a child to suffer every single day fighting to keep the one gift He gave them; Life? I wanted Him to explain. I wanted Him to tell me NOW how he could let this happen!

And then it hit me. Hailey was not ours to keep. She is His child first. He sent her here and trusted in her spirit to teach this small town compassion. He knew that in her short life she would teach many how to be brave and caring and kind to one another. She would bring a cause for all of us to come together and put aside our differences and pray for the well being of one family. She would leave a mark on this town that will stay with us forever. He let us borrow her for awhile and then needed her back home.

While my heart aches for her family I fall to my knees and thank them for sharing Hailey with us. I pray that God hold them tightly to his chest and tells them thank you for taking such good care of his child. I pray that the knowledge that God will take care of her until they meet again will bring them a small bit of comfort. And while there are no words that I can ever type that will take away their pain, I hope that they know that we all share that pain with them today.