I love Christmas time. It's my most favoritest time of year. But this one was unlike any other for us. I'll walk you through it.
My tree would typically be put up and decorated on Thanksgiving weekend, decked out with a different color coordinated theme every year. The lights, the ornaments, and even the wrapping paper had to match the color scheme of the year. This year the tree was up ten whole days before Christmas I think? I put lights on it. I hung nine ornaments on it. They were a gift this year. Precious moments ornaments with our names on each one. I considered that good enough. Thankfully the kids did too.
My husband and I set our alarms for four o'clock in the morning so we could open gifts before I went to work, and before my husband left to pick up the pager because he does HVAC work and was on call Christmas day. It didn't take the kids long to get over being dragged out of bed that morning. Within an hour, we were swimming in torn wrapping paper and boxes. The kids loved their gifts. My husband and I exchanged gifts. By the way, my husband is amazing. I mean, I got a pistol and a puppy. It doesn't get better than that.
I got ready and went to work. People still need nurses on Christmas day. I was a little sad about having to work, but by an hour into my shift, I was enjoying it. How could I complain about having to work when the people that I was taking care of were lying in a hospital bed? My husband spent the day working to ensure that people were warm on Christmas.
We both got home at about the same time, and for just a little while, all eight of us were in the same place at the same time. I couldn't help but be a little sad. Where there were eight, there should have been nine.
We had one stocking that didn't get hung this year. My six year old asked me a few weeks ago if we could throw Christmas presents in the air to give them to Khighla in Heaven. I responded that the best gift we could throw to her were kisses. It made me think of all the empty stockings in Connecticut this Christmas too. All of the Christmas gifts that I imagine were already wrapped and under the tree that will never be opened. Life is so precious. One of the little boys that was shot in his first grade classroom had the same name as my first grade son. It broke my heart. So many people say that they can't imagine what those parents must be going through. But we can. There is no gift on this Earth that I could give my husband to fill the hole of losing his daughter. At work, I had patients ask me if I have kids. I get weird when people ask me the simple question: how many kids do we have. I used to just say seven. Now, I don't know what I'm supposed to say? Do I say we had seven and we lost one? Or do I really want to answer the questions that will follow that? It wouldn't feel right saying we have six, because that's like erasing her. These were things I didn't really want running through my mind. I was sad on Christmas. It didn't seem right.
So, I put on my happy face and we headed out to my dad's house. Seeing my sister would certainly help. She lives ten hours away and I miss her every day. I miss my nephews, and my kids miss their cousins. I know how they feel. When I grew up, my best friends were my cousins and they moved away. It sucked. But now they were together and that's what mattered. The wrapping paper was flying again and the kids were shrieking with excitement.
Then we get a call that my grandmother had been taken by ambulance to the hospital. All of a sudden, I remembered why exactly nurses don't get the day off. The visit with my family was short, and my sister and I headed to the hospital. She was dehydrated and has a respiratory infection, and a stomach bug. After a few hours, she was released and we took her home. She was ready to get some rest. After three trips to the pharmacy because of someone's incompetence, it was eleven o'clock and I was ready to go home. I got up at four, remember?
My husband and I opened the package my mom sent us. She gave us the most thoughtful gift I could imagine. I have a collection of crosses on my wall. And now I have a new favorite. This one is beautiful AND special. It has wings on it, and she painted Khighla's name on the heart in the middle of it.
At the end of the day, I got to spend time with family. I got to give life saving medications. I got to see the joy in the eyes of my children. And I got to fall asleep in the arms of the man I love. Maybe it DOES get better than a pistol and a puppy.
That was my Christmas day. It was a fabulous day with some not-so-fabulous moments.
Merry Christmas...
DRD
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Thankful for the Thorns
As Thanksgiving approaches, I am inspired by the swarm of "I am thankful for..." posts throughout social networking. It's actually a nice break from the regular complaining people share day in and day out. In true Dirt Road Diva fashion... I am going to put my own spin on it and sum it up in one, probably too lengthy blog.
"Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses." -Alphonse Karr.
People take too much for granted. People complain about the very things they should be thankful for. I want to talk about some of those things.
Jesus. He died on a cross to save this sinner's soul. Enough said.
Police officers. You cuss them when you should praise them. This is a generation teaching the next generation to disrespect and dislike the men and women in blue. You refer to the officer that pulled you over as a "pig"? Why? Because he was doing his job? That police officer has probably seen far too many injuries and deaths as a result of traffic violations. He could have just prevented yours.
Jobs. Work in general is taken for granted. You complain about your job when there are those who would love to have yours. Every generation gets lazier by the minute. Hard work has been replaced by a sense of entitlement. I went to nursing school only to graduate and have to take a minimum wage job working the front desk at a hotel because nursing jobs were few and far between. After six months of rejections, I got three offers in two weeks. I was frustrated, but now that I have landed the job I was meant to land... I realize why it took me six months. God put some pretty wonderful people in my path by simply putting me behind that front desk. For that, I am thankful.
Morning. I am notoriously guilty for taking this one for granted. I am not a morning person by a long shot. But every morning I wake up means I get one more day. And I am thankful for every day that I have been given, good or bad.
Children. Most parents are thankful for their children, but some aren't thankful enough. Kids are a pain in the butt. But there are those who cannot conceive. They would give anything for a baby to wake them up at night. There are mothers who drink, smoke, and do drugs while pregnant. Why are you taking this innocent life for granted? If you cannot quit smoking, drinking or doing drugs for the sake of a miraculous new life, then you are not ready for the selflessness that is called parenthood. My children can drive me crazy. But they are just that... they are what drives me. God gave me the most precious of all blessings when he gave me parenthood.
Legs. Quit complaining that there are too many handicap spots in the parking lot. They are there for a reason. Use the legs they wish they could, and walk! I am thankful for my legs. They are no Carrie Underwood legs, but they can sure take me from the far ends of the Target parking lot to the entrance.
Parents. We spend so many years trying to rebel against them and trying to get out from under them, but then when we have children, we want their advice. Or worse... when they are gone, we will wish we could spend one more day with them. We think they are old fashioned, but there are reasons they call them the "good ol' days".
The check out line. You know, the one that moves a lot slower than you'd like because the clerk is talking to the customers ahead of you. I am thankful that there are still friendly people in this world. You are in too big of a hurry and you're missing out on the beauty of kindness and good customer service. Instead of being short with him or her when it comes your turn... maybe you should ask how their day has been.
Friends. I sometimes take them for granted just because I love them so, and I know that when life slows down, they will be there. But life doesn't slow down. Make time for them. I am thankful that my friends have not given up on me when I have taken them for granted.
Siblings. Your first friend and your first enemy. But is that rivalry going to matter after it's too late to let it go? Forgive while you still have the chance.
Trains. Instead of growling at the next one you have to wait on... count the cars like you did as a child. Roll your window down for a moment and take in the fresh air. Marvel in their power. They frustrate you, but they are a majestic thing to your children in the back seat. Look at it through their eyes.
In-laws. They get a bad rap. You think they're too hard on you? Maybe it's because you swooped in and stole their child. I'm a parent and I can only imagine how protective and over-bearing I will be when some outsider comes in and wins over my baby's heart. Give them the benefit of the doubt. They just want what's best for their son or daughter. If I can say anything positive about being married more than once... it's that I've had the pleasure of having more than one set of amazing in-laws. Stop looking at them like your spouse's family that you have to put up with, and start looking at them like new additions to your family that you get to share life with. They are your kids' grandparents. And your children will feel tension where there is tension to be felt. Embrace them.
Losing. I am thankful to have grown up in a generation that taught me how to lose... for without losing, winning means nothing. There is no pride in winning if you have not learned how to lose.
Soldiers. They have laid down their lives for me. There could never be enough gratitude for the selflessness and bravery that they show. They face horrors that civilians couldn't possibly imagine, and those that are lucky enough to wake up to see another day, face the same horrors again without complaint, and without nearly enough reward.
Teachers. As students, we took advantage of them. As parents, we place the world on their shoulders and then blame them for all of our childrens' wrong doings. Teachers work way too hard for way too little. They are under appreciated and deserve more thanks than they get.
These are only a handful of things that I am thankful for. My life is full of joy. I endure sorrow, for without it, I would not know happiness.
Thank you...
DRD
 |
| Why I give thanks... |
"Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses." -Alphonse Karr.
People take too much for granted. People complain about the very things they should be thankful for. I want to talk about some of those things.
Jesus. He died on a cross to save this sinner's soul. Enough said.
Police officers. You cuss them when you should praise them. This is a generation teaching the next generation to disrespect and dislike the men and women in blue. You refer to the officer that pulled you over as a "pig"? Why? Because he was doing his job? That police officer has probably seen far too many injuries and deaths as a result of traffic violations. He could have just prevented yours.
Jobs. Work in general is taken for granted. You complain about your job when there are those who would love to have yours. Every generation gets lazier by the minute. Hard work has been replaced by a sense of entitlement. I went to nursing school only to graduate and have to take a minimum wage job working the front desk at a hotel because nursing jobs were few and far between. After six months of rejections, I got three offers in two weeks. I was frustrated, but now that I have landed the job I was meant to land... I realize why it took me six months. God put some pretty wonderful people in my path by simply putting me behind that front desk. For that, I am thankful.
Morning. I am notoriously guilty for taking this one for granted. I am not a morning person by a long shot. But every morning I wake up means I get one more day. And I am thankful for every day that I have been given, good or bad.
Children. Most parents are thankful for their children, but some aren't thankful enough. Kids are a pain in the butt. But there are those who cannot conceive. They would give anything for a baby to wake them up at night. There are mothers who drink, smoke, and do drugs while pregnant. Why are you taking this innocent life for granted? If you cannot quit smoking, drinking or doing drugs for the sake of a miraculous new life, then you are not ready for the selflessness that is called parenthood. My children can drive me crazy. But they are just that... they are what drives me. God gave me the most precious of all blessings when he gave me parenthood.
Legs. Quit complaining that there are too many handicap spots in the parking lot. They are there for a reason. Use the legs they wish they could, and walk! I am thankful for my legs. They are no Carrie Underwood legs, but they can sure take me from the far ends of the Target parking lot to the entrance.
Parents. We spend so many years trying to rebel against them and trying to get out from under them, but then when we have children, we want their advice. Or worse... when they are gone, we will wish we could spend one more day with them. We think they are old fashioned, but there are reasons they call them the "good ol' days".
The check out line. You know, the one that moves a lot slower than you'd like because the clerk is talking to the customers ahead of you. I am thankful that there are still friendly people in this world. You are in too big of a hurry and you're missing out on the beauty of kindness and good customer service. Instead of being short with him or her when it comes your turn... maybe you should ask how their day has been.
Friends. I sometimes take them for granted just because I love them so, and I know that when life slows down, they will be there. But life doesn't slow down. Make time for them. I am thankful that my friends have not given up on me when I have taken them for granted.
Siblings. Your first friend and your first enemy. But is that rivalry going to matter after it's too late to let it go? Forgive while you still have the chance.
Trains. Instead of growling at the next one you have to wait on... count the cars like you did as a child. Roll your window down for a moment and take in the fresh air. Marvel in their power. They frustrate you, but they are a majestic thing to your children in the back seat. Look at it through their eyes.
In-laws. They get a bad rap. You think they're too hard on you? Maybe it's because you swooped in and stole their child. I'm a parent and I can only imagine how protective and over-bearing I will be when some outsider comes in and wins over my baby's heart. Give them the benefit of the doubt. They just want what's best for their son or daughter. If I can say anything positive about being married more than once... it's that I've had the pleasure of having more than one set of amazing in-laws. Stop looking at them like your spouse's family that you have to put up with, and start looking at them like new additions to your family that you get to share life with. They are your kids' grandparents. And your children will feel tension where there is tension to be felt. Embrace them.
Losing. I am thankful to have grown up in a generation that taught me how to lose... for without losing, winning means nothing. There is no pride in winning if you have not learned how to lose.
Soldiers. They have laid down their lives for me. There could never be enough gratitude for the selflessness and bravery that they show. They face horrors that civilians couldn't possibly imagine, and those that are lucky enough to wake up to see another day, face the same horrors again without complaint, and without nearly enough reward.
Teachers. As students, we took advantage of them. As parents, we place the world on their shoulders and then blame them for all of our childrens' wrong doings. Teachers work way too hard for way too little. They are under appreciated and deserve more thanks than they get.
These are only a handful of things that I am thankful for. My life is full of joy. I endure sorrow, for without it, I would not know happiness.
Thank you...
DRD
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Khighla
If someone asked me two months ago what was the worst possible thing I could ever imagine happening, I would not have the same answer I do now. That's because my mind would never have reached the horrific idea of one of our children being murdered.
The photo above sums her up pretty well. No better place for her than on the back of a horse. She could have been quite happy living in a barn. If she had her horse, she was content. You can't see in this photo, but she was wearing boots. She was always wearing boots. She would come to our house with a bag packed with shorts and capri pants for the summer. And boots. No flip flops, no tennis shoes... just boots. I wish I could tease her about that again.
Before my husband and I got married, that morning of our wedding I took all four of our girls to get pedicures with me, as they were all wearing flip flops for our outdoor summer wedding. Khighla of course had never had a pedicure before and rolled her eyes at me for the thought of it. Once it was her turn though, she loved every minute of it. I wish I could take her for another pedicure.
Khighla could not make it through a sentence without saying "umm". Sometimes saying it multiple times within one sentence. It made us laugh. We would try to get her to go for a day without saying "umm" and it was obvious that wasn't going to happen. So, we would challenge her to go one conversation... that didn't work either! I wish I could hear her voice one more time, even just "umm".
Khighla loved to go to the lake with us. She never used enough sunscreen and came back with a sunburn every time. Her hair was a beautiful color with natural highlights in the sunlight. I wish I could see it blowing in the wind again.
Khighla was a teenage girl. Teenage girls make naive decisions. She was no exception. Teenagers believe they are invincible. They trust too easily. They don't see the evil in the world. They do things we wish they wouldn't, and they break the rules. Didn't everyone as a teenager? I wish we could lecture her about this one more time.
Khighla had a passion for music. She loved to sing. I wish I could hear one more song.
She loved to go out to eat with us. I wish we could take her to Mexican Villa one more time.
Khighla loved to read. She could sit for hours with a good book. She loved the twilight series and was on Team Jacob. She sported a shirt with his face on it. I wish there were more pages in her story.
Burying a child is a nightmare that nobody should ever face. We yearn for justice, but to be honest it doesn't help. They could take her killer out and shoot him and it wouldn't bring her back. We can visit her grave, but can't see her smile again. We can talk to her, but she can't talk back. The world is a cruel place, and it's very difficult to move on.
A ton of people tell us "Let me know if there is anything I can do". I know they mean well, and I know people just don't know what to say. But the truth is, there isn't anything that anybody can do. There isn't anything anyone can say to make the hurt go away. It's nice to hear though, because we know how many people care. Our family and friends have been an amazing support system. But at the end of the day, she is still gone. That is a void that will never be filled on this earth.
Love you Khighla...
DRD
I hear of these unbelievable stories on the news or on crime drama television series. I shiver in disbelief, but never remotely consider the possibility that it's real... that it's actually happening... or that it could ever happen in my own family.
My step daughter was kidnapped, murdered, and tossed in a lake. News stories overwhelmed the TV, internet, and newspapers. But Khighla was more than a news story. Khighla was just 15 years old. She was a beautiful girl, inside and out. Now that she has been taken from us, I am writing in her memory. I want to introduce you all to the girl beyond the news stories.
My step daughter was kidnapped, murdered, and tossed in a lake. News stories overwhelmed the TV, internet, and newspapers. But Khighla was more than a news story. Khighla was just 15 years old. She was a beautiful girl, inside and out. Now that she has been taken from us, I am writing in her memory. I want to introduce you all to the girl beyond the news stories.
The photo above sums her up pretty well. No better place for her than on the back of a horse. She could have been quite happy living in a barn. If she had her horse, she was content. You can't see in this photo, but she was wearing boots. She was always wearing boots. She would come to our house with a bag packed with shorts and capri pants for the summer. And boots. No flip flops, no tennis shoes... just boots. I wish I could tease her about that again.
Before my husband and I got married, that morning of our wedding I took all four of our girls to get pedicures with me, as they were all wearing flip flops for our outdoor summer wedding. Khighla of course had never had a pedicure before and rolled her eyes at me for the thought of it. Once it was her turn though, she loved every minute of it. I wish I could take her for another pedicure.
Khighla could not make it through a sentence without saying "umm". Sometimes saying it multiple times within one sentence. It made us laugh. We would try to get her to go for a day without saying "umm" and it was obvious that wasn't going to happen. So, we would challenge her to go one conversation... that didn't work either! I wish I could hear her voice one more time, even just "umm".
Khighla loved to go to the lake with us. She never used enough sunscreen and came back with a sunburn every time. Her hair was a beautiful color with natural highlights in the sunlight. I wish I could see it blowing in the wind again.
Khighla was a teenage girl. Teenage girls make naive decisions. She was no exception. Teenagers believe they are invincible. They trust too easily. They don't see the evil in the world. They do things we wish they wouldn't, and they break the rules. Didn't everyone as a teenager? I wish we could lecture her about this one more time.
Khighla had a passion for music. She loved to sing. I wish I could hear one more song.
She loved to go out to eat with us. I wish we could take her to Mexican Villa one more time.
Khighla loved to read. She could sit for hours with a good book. She loved the twilight series and was on Team Jacob. She sported a shirt with his face on it. I wish there were more pages in her story.
Burying a child is a nightmare that nobody should ever face. We yearn for justice, but to be honest it doesn't help. They could take her killer out and shoot him and it wouldn't bring her back. We can visit her grave, but can't see her smile again. We can talk to her, but she can't talk back. The world is a cruel place, and it's very difficult to move on.
A ton of people tell us "Let me know if there is anything I can do". I know they mean well, and I know people just don't know what to say. But the truth is, there isn't anything that anybody can do. There isn't anything anyone can say to make the hurt go away. It's nice to hear though, because we know how many people care. Our family and friends have been an amazing support system. But at the end of the day, she is still gone. That is a void that will never be filled on this earth.
Love you Khighla...
DRD
Saturday, September 22, 2012
What I swore I'd never do...
I became my mother. All of those years I spent swearing I would absolutely never, ever, EVER do such horrible things to my children were such a waste of breath.
Can you believe my mother violated my privacy and read my private things? Oh, how I hated her for this. Now, my kids can't believe I would do such a nasty thing either. Hey, if you're not communicating with me, and I am forced to rely on snooping to know what's going on in your life, then I guess that's what I've gotta do. I am afterall responsible for you and your actions. I want to make sure that I'm not the mama of the kid that goes on a crazy violent rampage at their school and everyone close to them swears they were just the best kid in the world and can't believe he or she would do such horrible things. I'm sure glad my mom cared about me as much as I care about my kids. Enough to find out what was going on with me... whether I told her or not.
My mom also used to spank me. I cannot remember a single time I heard my mother say something like "You just wait til your father gets home!" Hell, she'd get out the wooden spoon and make sure I had a welt on my ass that lasted until my father got home. This was pure torture. I took a vow with every spanking that I would never put my future children through such cruel and unusual punishment. Somewhere down the line, between the back talking and the disobedience, I cracked. I became a spanker. Then once I broke my promise once, it was like an addiction. Hey, if I spank 'em, they straighten up! Maybe she just wanted me to behave and be disciplined instead of the hooligans that were hiding in the clothing racks at the department stores, or the misfits having a food fight in a public restaurant. Now I'm like a spanking advocate! There's something to be said for a good old fashioned butt whoopin'. My mom loved me enough to spank me to ensure that I was respectful and good natured. I'm passing that love down to my children.
My evil mother also used to make me do homework. I saw no good reason for this, as I didn't foresee any point in my life that I would need to know that A+B=C or that I would care how an adverb was used... As I wasted so much of my life away doing this ridiculous homework, I thought to myself 'when I have kids, I'm going to boycott homework on my children's behalf. There is absolutely no excuse for all of that tedious bologna. Of course, when I went to college AFTER becoming a parent, I realized the value of an education. Knowledge is power. I make my kids do their homework because I want them to be empowered!
When I look back at photos of myself as a child, I gasp at the sight of the horrendous attire that my mother felt perfectly comfortable putting on me and toting me about in public. I'm not just talking about fashion changes. Hell, I didn't even match most of the time. I was embarrassed and promised my future children to ALWAYS make sure that they were dressed in the most trendy, latest fashions. I would make sure that their clothes not only matched, but coordinated with their siblings' fashion statement as well. Somewhere between the temper tantrums over wearing cowboy boots with shorts, and my eyes rolling over one of my boys dressing himself in a t-shirt and baseball pants that fit snuggly under his knee cap with his flip flops... I sort of decided that their pride in dressing themselves was far more important than my childhood promise. Cheaper too. I still have to check before we leave the house to make sure all of them are wearing pants, because there's just some moments you have to put your foot down! So, bravo mom! I take my hideous outfits to mean that you were proud of my decisions and valued my independence. Thank you for that.
When I was a teenager, there was nothing I hated more than being told I couldn't do something or go somewhere. I was old enough to make my own decisions, damn it! I was positive I'd let my teenagers do as they please... Then, one time when my first child was just shy of two years old, she wandered out of my sight in a public place while I dug through my purse for some cash to get her picture taken with Santa. I looked up and didn't see her, and for those sweating, heart pounding 15 seconds or so that I couldn't breathe because I feared the worst, I promised myself that I would always protect her. That means saying no sometimes.
My mom knew what she was doing after all! I have more than once called her to remind her of how sorry and how thankful to her that I am... and I look forward to the day that my children dial my number to humbly admit that they became their mother. It will be worth the wait. :)
My mother's daughter...
DRD
Can you believe my mother violated my privacy and read my private things? Oh, how I hated her for this. Now, my kids can't believe I would do such a nasty thing either. Hey, if you're not communicating with me, and I am forced to rely on snooping to know what's going on in your life, then I guess that's what I've gotta do. I am afterall responsible for you and your actions. I want to make sure that I'm not the mama of the kid that goes on a crazy violent rampage at their school and everyone close to them swears they were just the best kid in the world and can't believe he or she would do such horrible things. I'm sure glad my mom cared about me as much as I care about my kids. Enough to find out what was going on with me... whether I told her or not.
My mom also used to spank me. I cannot remember a single time I heard my mother say something like "You just wait til your father gets home!" Hell, she'd get out the wooden spoon and make sure I had a welt on my ass that lasted until my father got home. This was pure torture. I took a vow with every spanking that I would never put my future children through such cruel and unusual punishment. Somewhere down the line, between the back talking and the disobedience, I cracked. I became a spanker. Then once I broke my promise once, it was like an addiction. Hey, if I spank 'em, they straighten up! Maybe she just wanted me to behave and be disciplined instead of the hooligans that were hiding in the clothing racks at the department stores, or the misfits having a food fight in a public restaurant. Now I'm like a spanking advocate! There's something to be said for a good old fashioned butt whoopin'. My mom loved me enough to spank me to ensure that I was respectful and good natured. I'm passing that love down to my children.
My evil mother also used to make me do homework. I saw no good reason for this, as I didn't foresee any point in my life that I would need to know that A+B=C or that I would care how an adverb was used... As I wasted so much of my life away doing this ridiculous homework, I thought to myself 'when I have kids, I'm going to boycott homework on my children's behalf. There is absolutely no excuse for all of that tedious bologna. Of course, when I went to college AFTER becoming a parent, I realized the value of an education. Knowledge is power. I make my kids do their homework because I want them to be empowered!
When I look back at photos of myself as a child, I gasp at the sight of the horrendous attire that my mother felt perfectly comfortable putting on me and toting me about in public. I'm not just talking about fashion changes. Hell, I didn't even match most of the time. I was embarrassed and promised my future children to ALWAYS make sure that they were dressed in the most trendy, latest fashions. I would make sure that their clothes not only matched, but coordinated with their siblings' fashion statement as well. Somewhere between the temper tantrums over wearing cowboy boots with shorts, and my eyes rolling over one of my boys dressing himself in a t-shirt and baseball pants that fit snuggly under his knee cap with his flip flops... I sort of decided that their pride in dressing themselves was far more important than my childhood promise. Cheaper too. I still have to check before we leave the house to make sure all of them are wearing pants, because there's just some moments you have to put your foot down! So, bravo mom! I take my hideous outfits to mean that you were proud of my decisions and valued my independence. Thank you for that.
When I was a teenager, there was nothing I hated more than being told I couldn't do something or go somewhere. I was old enough to make my own decisions, damn it! I was positive I'd let my teenagers do as they please... Then, one time when my first child was just shy of two years old, she wandered out of my sight in a public place while I dug through my purse for some cash to get her picture taken with Santa. I looked up and didn't see her, and for those sweating, heart pounding 15 seconds or so that I couldn't breathe because I feared the worst, I promised myself that I would always protect her. That means saying no sometimes.
My mom knew what she was doing after all! I have more than once called her to remind her of how sorry and how thankful to her that I am... and I look forward to the day that my children dial my number to humbly admit that they became their mother. It will be worth the wait. :)
My mother's daughter...
DRD
Monday, June 11, 2012
Everyone is not a winner.
I get pretty wrapped up in little league sports. I'm that mom. Every football or baseball season, I make a "mom shirt" that matches my kids' jerseys or shirts. I am the one running along the sidelines at the football games, or yelling words of encouragement from behind home plate.
As baseball season is upon us again, I can't help but remember the days that I was on the field. The same fields where my sons play baseball now. I also can't help but wonder what ever happened to sports? It has become political BS. When I was a kid, I worked my butt off to prove that I was a good pitcher and an even better short stop. Because that's what you had to do. These days all you have to do is be the coach's son. We have coaches that are coaching to fulfill community service requirements. We have first basemen that can't catch a ball to save their life, but daddy's a board member. What do you think this does to the other kids on the team? It makes them give up. If their efforts to be a good team player and prove their skill fail because of political BS, why would they want to keep trying?
At the end of the season, it doesn't matter if you were a good sport or a poor sport. It doesn't matter if you worked your butt off to prove yourself at a position, or if you were picking dandelions in right field. You are a winner. You will get a trophy, or a medal, because nobody knows how to lose. This generation is raising a bunch of pansies because nobody wants a kid to get their feelings hurt.
As David McCullough Jr said in a recent commencement speech, "You see, if everyone is special, then no one is. If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless." There is truth in these words. Baseball is a competitive sport. There is nothing wrong with healthy competition. The point is to learn to try. Motivation to win is healthy. If you put your kids in COMPETITIVE SPORTS, it should come with the understanding that there is a WINNER and a LOSER in every game.
Picture this. Your son is a high school senior, and football player. It's also his 18th birthday, and the bowl game. Big day, right? Imagine that he is mid run of the winning touch down and does a split second fist pump. To be expected, given all the excitement don't you think? This is a true story. That boy was penalized for "excessive celebration" and his touchdown did not count. They lost the game because of it. His fist pump was considered to be "a taunting gesture", even though he was not even facing the opposing team... he was after all, ahead of them, and almost to the endzone when he raised his fist in the air for half of a second. I for one, do not believe that he deserved to have that moment taken away from him. This is an example of a rule that has come to be from people who believe "everyone is a winner". If everyone is a winner, why bother trying?
I had some good coaches growing up, and very encouraging parents. It's probably why I'm so hard on myself now if I'm not the absolute best at everything I do. But that's OK. I don't have a sense of entitlement. I know that I have to EARN my accomplishments. It sucks to try to pass these ideals down to my children, when all they see is that their efforts don't matter.
Is calling a fair game in 8 year old machine pitch too much to ask? This is the age they are learning fundamentals. If a coach is yelling at another coach that he's a cry baby in front of the 8 year old players, he should be thrown out of the game, not having the game called in his favor just because he's buddies with the umpire's daddy. Children need to learn good sportsmanship. This means learning how to win and lose with grace. Yes, lose. If they never lose, why would winning mean anything?
I get it. T-ball is about having fun. Just kinda learning which direction is first base. Getting a concept for how the game is played, but more about playing in some red dirt and getting to wear a shirt with a number on the back. I will holler at my son to let him know what's expected of him in the position he is playing, but if he goes the whole game without figuring it out, I still laugh it off. Because he's 5. You won't even know if you won or lost the game, and that's ok, because you're HAVING FUN.
Machine pitch, in my opinion is where the fundamentals are learned. I think this means rotating players to different positions to find their strengths and weaknesses, decide on a position or two that are best for him or her. This is the age that is also critical to teach sportsmanship. You won't win every game, and that's ok, because you're LEARNING.
Kid pitch in little league should be about applying everything you've learned from previous seasons, and playing some real ball. The fun part is when you win, and the learning part is when you lose. You have learned a position or two, and you're getting good at them. If you're not good at any of them, you've probably lost interest by now anyways. (Parents: please don't force your kid to play a sport they don't want to at this point... you're not doing anyone any good.) You will not win every game, and that's ok, because it's LIFE. Get over it.
Ever watch American Idol? Remember all of the people that come on the show and say that their whole lives, people have told them they are an amazing singer, they sound like Whitney Houston, blah blah blah... Well then they open their mouths, and people laugh at them? That's because they suck. But their parents told them all their life that they were amazing at it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that we don't encourage our kids... but don't lie to them either. Don't set them up for failure. The truth that nobody wants to tell you is that you CAN'T be whatever you want to be. God gave me different talents than he gave you. Some people can sing, some people can't. Some people can catch a baseball, some people can't. I suck at math, but I can fly through a literature course like nothing. It takes losing sometimes to figure out what you're made for.
Winning!!
DRD
As baseball season is upon us again, I can't help but remember the days that I was on the field. The same fields where my sons play baseball now. I also can't help but wonder what ever happened to sports? It has become political BS. When I was a kid, I worked my butt off to prove that I was a good pitcher and an even better short stop. Because that's what you had to do. These days all you have to do is be the coach's son. We have coaches that are coaching to fulfill community service requirements. We have first basemen that can't catch a ball to save their life, but daddy's a board member. What do you think this does to the other kids on the team? It makes them give up. If their efforts to be a good team player and prove their skill fail because of political BS, why would they want to keep trying?
At the end of the season, it doesn't matter if you were a good sport or a poor sport. It doesn't matter if you worked your butt off to prove yourself at a position, or if you were picking dandelions in right field. You are a winner. You will get a trophy, or a medal, because nobody knows how to lose. This generation is raising a bunch of pansies because nobody wants a kid to get their feelings hurt.
As David McCullough Jr said in a recent commencement speech, "You see, if everyone is special, then no one is. If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless." There is truth in these words. Baseball is a competitive sport. There is nothing wrong with healthy competition. The point is to learn to try. Motivation to win is healthy. If you put your kids in COMPETITIVE SPORTS, it should come with the understanding that there is a WINNER and a LOSER in every game.
They'll be handing these out next:
Picture this. Your son is a high school senior, and football player. It's also his 18th birthday, and the bowl game. Big day, right? Imagine that he is mid run of the winning touch down and does a split second fist pump. To be expected, given all the excitement don't you think? This is a true story. That boy was penalized for "excessive celebration" and his touchdown did not count. They lost the game because of it. His fist pump was considered to be "a taunting gesture", even though he was not even facing the opposing team... he was after all, ahead of them, and almost to the endzone when he raised his fist in the air for half of a second. I for one, do not believe that he deserved to have that moment taken away from him. This is an example of a rule that has come to be from people who believe "everyone is a winner". If everyone is a winner, why bother trying?
Photo of the taunting gesture:
I had some good coaches growing up, and very encouraging parents. It's probably why I'm so hard on myself now if I'm not the absolute best at everything I do. But that's OK. I don't have a sense of entitlement. I know that I have to EARN my accomplishments. It sucks to try to pass these ideals down to my children, when all they see is that their efforts don't matter.
Is calling a fair game in 8 year old machine pitch too much to ask? This is the age they are learning fundamentals. If a coach is yelling at another coach that he's a cry baby in front of the 8 year old players, he should be thrown out of the game, not having the game called in his favor just because he's buddies with the umpire's daddy. Children need to learn good sportsmanship. This means learning how to win and lose with grace. Yes, lose. If they never lose, why would winning mean anything?
I get it. T-ball is about having fun. Just kinda learning which direction is first base. Getting a concept for how the game is played, but more about playing in some red dirt and getting to wear a shirt with a number on the back. I will holler at my son to let him know what's expected of him in the position he is playing, but if he goes the whole game without figuring it out, I still laugh it off. Because he's 5. You won't even know if you won or lost the game, and that's ok, because you're HAVING FUN.
Machine pitch, in my opinion is where the fundamentals are learned. I think this means rotating players to different positions to find their strengths and weaknesses, decide on a position or two that are best for him or her. This is the age that is also critical to teach sportsmanship. You won't win every game, and that's ok, because you're LEARNING.
Kid pitch in little league should be about applying everything you've learned from previous seasons, and playing some real ball. The fun part is when you win, and the learning part is when you lose. You have learned a position or two, and you're getting good at them. If you're not good at any of them, you've probably lost interest by now anyways. (Parents: please don't force your kid to play a sport they don't want to at this point... you're not doing anyone any good.) You will not win every game, and that's ok, because it's LIFE. Get over it.
Yay! Look what I got! I'm a winner!!
Ever watch American Idol? Remember all of the people that come on the show and say that their whole lives, people have told them they are an amazing singer, they sound like Whitney Houston, blah blah blah... Well then they open their mouths, and people laugh at them? That's because they suck. But their parents told them all their life that they were amazing at it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that we don't encourage our kids... but don't lie to them either. Don't set them up for failure. The truth that nobody wants to tell you is that you CAN'T be whatever you want to be. God gave me different talents than he gave you. Some people can sing, some people can't. Some people can catch a baseball, some people can't. I suck at math, but I can fly through a literature course like nothing. It takes losing sometimes to figure out what you're made for.
Winning!!
DRD
Monday, April 23, 2012
sticks and stones...
Whoever said "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me" lied. After hearing the news of yet another teen suicide due to bullying, I have to break the silence. WAKE UP PEOPLE!!! Kids are being pushed around. Kids are being called names and made fun of until they feel so worthless that they honestly believe the world would be a better place without them.
Parents need a wake up call. The best place to stop bullying is not at school. It's at home. Schools can put up "BULLY FREE ZONE" signs until the walls are covered in them, and it's not going to solve anything. A bully isn't going to look at that poster and change their way of life.
It's time moms and dads quit raising children to be bullies. Or bystanders for that matter. To watch a child get bullied and turn a blind eye is just as hurtful. Get rid of the "my child can do no wrong" attitude, and teach them some integrity and respect for humanity. Lead by example. Do you make fun of people and then wonder where your children get it? Have you called someone fat lately? Have you reached out to someone lately to let them know that you love them for the imperfection that they are? Your kids know. And your kids will follow in your footsteps.
I am genuinely saddened by the youth of today. It's very difficult to raise happy, healthy children when they are exposed to so much garbage in this world. My children can call me over protective. My children can complain that "so and so is allowed to do this or that". But so and so isn't my kid. There has been a severe lack of parenting in most of this generation. Talk to your children. Eat dinner together. Ask them about their day. One day, that will mean more to them than the latest video game.
I am not a perfect parent, and have never claimed to be. It is not my intention to tick my readers off by this. It's just to open some eyes. Spread the word. DO SOMETHING! If you know of a child being bullied, don't ignore it, and teach your children not to ignore it either! What kind of world do we live in where the "cool kids" are the mean ones?
Something to think about: How would you feel if you had no idea the pain your child was hiding inside? The suffering and the torture they endured at school, on the bus, or at the playground. For being smart... not smart enough... chubby... too short... too tall... poor... rich... What if you found out your child was being bullied? What if the first time you found out was in his or her suicide note?
words hurt...
DRD
Parents need a wake up call. The best place to stop bullying is not at school. It's at home. Schools can put up "BULLY FREE ZONE" signs until the walls are covered in them, and it's not going to solve anything. A bully isn't going to look at that poster and change their way of life.
I am genuinely saddened by the youth of today. It's very difficult to raise happy, healthy children when they are exposed to so much garbage in this world. My children can call me over protective. My children can complain that "so and so is allowed to do this or that". But so and so isn't my kid. There has been a severe lack of parenting in most of this generation. Talk to your children. Eat dinner together. Ask them about their day. One day, that will mean more to them than the latest video game.
I am not a perfect parent, and have never claimed to be. It is not my intention to tick my readers off by this. It's just to open some eyes. Spread the word. DO SOMETHING! If you know of a child being bullied, don't ignore it, and teach your children not to ignore it either! What kind of world do we live in where the "cool kids" are the mean ones?
Something to think about: How would you feel if you had no idea the pain your child was hiding inside? The suffering and the torture they endured at school, on the bus, or at the playground. For being smart... not smart enough... chubby... too short... too tall... poor... rich... What if you found out your child was being bullied? What if the first time you found out was in his or her suicide note?
words hurt...
DRD
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I can't make this stuff up...
Did anyone else watch that William Shatner show "Bleep my dad says?" Well my dad has said a few funny things in his lifetime... but NOTHING in comparison to the bleep my kids say! I try to remember some of the hilarious crap that my kids have said over the years. I have even written several down, just so that I can tell them about it when they are older. And just when I think that it can't get much funnier, another mouth opens! These are just a few of the things my kids have said that had me in tears laughing!
1. "1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Amen!" (the "Amen" replaced 8 9 10 when my daughter first learned to count. Either because it sounded similar, or because it's what we say at the 'end'? Not sure, but it cracked me up every time!)
2. 15 year old daughter: "What to say when someone dies is a popular Google search?!" 5 year old son: "I wouldn't say ANYTHING! I'd just RUN!"
3. (5 year old getting an iPod touch for Christmas) "Sweet! It has GPS on it! I'll always know where I am!"
4. "If I had a billion thousand hands, I could win a snowball fight... but it would take me a looonng time to put my gloves on!"
5. Goofing around obnoxiously with the kids at the hardware store, one of them says: "Great. We're that weird family that everyone is going to go home and post Facebook statuses about."
6. One son to another: "What flavor of bug juice is that?" Reply: "Apple juicy fart."
7. "If I catch a fish, can I feel what it feels like?" Yes, the first fish you catch, you have to kiss it on the lips. "What if it EATS me?!"
8. "I wash my hands before lunch so my food doesn't get dirty." (Great idea. I've seen how dirty your hands get.)
9. "I can count backwards, see? 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 0!" Awesome!! Did you learn that at daycare? "No? I learned that from the microwave!"
10. "Can I get a pet skunk and name it Wanker?" (a dog maybe?)
11. "That didn't hurt!" (Well let me fix that!)
12. "You don't have any idea what's cool... You're not even IN middle school!" (You're right. Kids that are wearing vampire teeth to school because they've taken the twilight bandwagon too far... THEY are so cool.)
13. (After my son, 3 years old at the time, is recovering from sedation for an EEG) Nurse: "Would you like some jello?" son: "I'd like some BEANS!! I love beans."
14. "How many is 16 plus 16?" 32. "Oh. If 16 plus 16 is 32, I have 5 fingers. On each hand!" (Very good, son... very good.)
15. "Can I get a naked movie?" (Out of the mouth of a 3 year old... of course he meant "SMOOTHIE"... but a 3 year old walking through the store asking for a naked movie is always a good time!)
16. I'm passing out life savers candies. 5 year old: "OHHH I want that green one!! Is it BROCCOLI flavor?" (I'm not sure what caught me off guard the most? The fact that he believed someone would make broccoli flavored candy or the fact that he so desperately wanted that kind?)
17. We kind of took in a stray cat. It must have been sickly, because it died within 2 weeks of us finding her. So, one day my son has his face pressed up against the patio door. What are you looking at son? "Well, not the cat, cuz it's DEAD!"
These are just a few of my favorites. Stay tuned, as I keep writing this stuff down!
Apple Juicy Fart!
DRD
1. "1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Amen!" (the "Amen" replaced 8 9 10 when my daughter first learned to count. Either because it sounded similar, or because it's what we say at the 'end'? Not sure, but it cracked me up every time!)
2. 15 year old daughter: "What to say when someone dies is a popular Google search?!" 5 year old son: "I wouldn't say ANYTHING! I'd just RUN!"
3. (5 year old getting an iPod touch for Christmas) "Sweet! It has GPS on it! I'll always know where I am!"
4. "If I had a billion thousand hands, I could win a snowball fight... but it would take me a looonng time to put my gloves on!"
5. Goofing around obnoxiously with the kids at the hardware store, one of them says: "Great. We're that weird family that everyone is going to go home and post Facebook statuses about."
6. One son to another: "What flavor of bug juice is that?" Reply: "Apple juicy fart."
7. "If I catch a fish, can I feel what it feels like?" Yes, the first fish you catch, you have to kiss it on the lips. "What if it EATS me?!"
8. "I wash my hands before lunch so my food doesn't get dirty." (Great idea. I've seen how dirty your hands get.)
9. "I can count backwards, see? 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 0!" Awesome!! Did you learn that at daycare? "No? I learned that from the microwave!"
10. "Can I get a pet skunk and name it Wanker?" (a dog maybe?)
11. "That didn't hurt!" (Well let me fix that!)
12. "You don't have any idea what's cool... You're not even IN middle school!" (You're right. Kids that are wearing vampire teeth to school because they've taken the twilight bandwagon too far... THEY are so cool.)
13. (After my son, 3 years old at the time, is recovering from sedation for an EEG) Nurse: "Would you like some jello?" son: "I'd like some BEANS!! I love beans."
14. "How many is 16 plus 16?" 32. "Oh. If 16 plus 16 is 32, I have 5 fingers. On each hand!" (Very good, son... very good.)
15. "Can I get a naked movie?" (Out of the mouth of a 3 year old... of course he meant "SMOOTHIE"... but a 3 year old walking through the store asking for a naked movie is always a good time!)
16. I'm passing out life savers candies. 5 year old: "OHHH I want that green one!! Is it BROCCOLI flavor?" (I'm not sure what caught me off guard the most? The fact that he believed someone would make broccoli flavored candy or the fact that he so desperately wanted that kind?)
17. We kind of took in a stray cat. It must have been sickly, because it died within 2 weeks of us finding her. So, one day my son has his face pressed up against the patio door. What are you looking at son? "Well, not the cat, cuz it's DEAD!"
These are just a few of my favorites. Stay tuned, as I keep writing this stuff down!
Apple Juicy Fart!
DRD
Friday, February 10, 2012
If dogs could read...
Well, hello stray doggy that was hanging out with my kids last night in the back yard. When I opened the boys curtain this morning for some light, I must admit, I found it quite adorable that you propped your paws up on the window sill and just stared in the window all morning as they got ready for school. It was so pitiful and we all immediately felt sorry for you sitting out there in the cold.
After they got on the bus, I began to wonder where you came from. You are obviously quite happy here, as you stuck around all night. I had to give my husband some puppy dog eyes of my own to convince him to let me bring you in and bathe you. It had to be done... you were filthy! But you sure cleaned up nice!
I'm glad that you like me and follow me around, because I kinda like you too. Enough that I ran to target right after your bath to get some kibbles and bits. I was pretty excited to see you waiting for me at the end of my driveway when I got home. You seemed very excited when you recognized my truck. I wonder if you were that excited when your former owners came home to you?
I'm sorry that you were lost, but I'm secretly hoping that you don't want to go back to where you came from. I don't know if someone dumped you off out here in the country, or if someone is missing you. You weren't wearing a tag. I do know that I will be good to you, and you are welcome to stay and call this your new home if you want to.
You're such a pretty shiny black lab... I think I'll call you 'Olive'.
Welcome Home Olive!
DRD
After they got on the bus, I began to wonder where you came from. You are obviously quite happy here, as you stuck around all night. I had to give my husband some puppy dog eyes of my own to convince him to let me bring you in and bathe you. It had to be done... you were filthy! But you sure cleaned up nice!
I'm glad that you like me and follow me around, because I kinda like you too. Enough that I ran to target right after your bath to get some kibbles and bits. I was pretty excited to see you waiting for me at the end of my driveway when I got home. You seemed very excited when you recognized my truck. I wonder if you were that excited when your former owners came home to you?
I'm sorry that you were lost, but I'm secretly hoping that you don't want to go back to where you came from. I don't know if someone dumped you off out here in the country, or if someone is missing you. You weren't wearing a tag. I do know that I will be good to you, and you are welcome to stay and call this your new home if you want to.
You're such a pretty shiny black lab... I think I'll call you 'Olive'.
Welcome Home Olive!
DRD
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
What having boys has taught me...
Some of the coolest things I have learned from raising boys:
1. Males can aim a foreign object WAY better than they can aim a part of their own body.
(I live in the country, and it's easier to let them go outside to pee. The boys have their own bathroom, because no girl in her right mind would want to share with them.)
2. That smell is probably coming from their room... and it's not gonna be pretty.
(It might be food that they were hiding; it might be urine soaking into the mattress because they were too embarrassed to tell you they peed the bed... either way, it stinks!)
3. It's easier to learn how to ride a motorcycle than a bicycle.
(And training wheels can be used on dirt bikes too!)
4. Nothing is quite as amusing as a really loud fart.
(No matter how much I disagree... there is one thing all of the males in my house have in common. The funniest joke, isn't spoken from the mouth.)
5. Fighting ninjas is a daily battle. One that you must never give up.
(What? You can't see them? Well, that's because my son is doing a dang good job keeping them away. The sound effects are cool too.)
6. Fear is a way of life when you have boys. They are dangerous. Mom's are terrified.
(They like to jump off of tall things. They like to wrestle. They like to go fast. I really believe boys are not capable of sensing danger.)
7. Five years old is not too young to start planning for that first car.
(Or truck, or jeep. Chances are they have already envisioned it by this age, and boys don't change their minds like girls do.)
8. Shorts and cowboy boots and goggles are a pretty cool fashion statement.
(And saying they look ridiculous makes them feel like you're ashamed of them. Who cares if the old lady at the bank looks at you like you're insane? Your son knows you're proud of who he is. Isn't that more important anyways?)
9. Little league sports are WAY more exciting than college or pro sports.
(Nothing feels more amazing than running along the sidelines as your son runs his first touch down, or standing behind home plate to hear the ball hit his bat, even if he is so excited that he forgets to run!)
10. It's okay to get dirty once in a while.
(Jump in rain puddles, make mud pies, make snow angels... These memories will be well worth the load of laundry. Sometimes, it's even worth having to throw that outfit away entirely. It's still worth it.)
11. Cesarean section scars are no longer ugly. They are battle wounds to be proud of.
(Besides, it gives you proof of where babies come from.)
12. They are, in fact, STILL hungry.
(Boys wake up hungry, go to bed hungry, and eat every chance they get in between. This won't change, so it's better to just get used to it... and make sure to feed them a variety of stuff early on so they aren't picky eaters. My five year old son orders a sandwich with bell peppers, onions, banana peppers, and tomatoes on it; I know he's going to be okay.)
13. It doesn't have to be broken for fixing it to make perfect sense.
(They take things apart. Just to see how it works, and to see if they can put it back together. Maybe even better than before.)
14. Bubble bath has more than one purpose.
(Like pouring out all over the bathroom floor, and slipping and sliding around on all fours. I must admit, when I caught my son doing this, at maybe 18 months old, a little part of me wished our bathroom was bigger. Then again, I could buy it in bulk and we could try it in the kitchen?)
15. Dandelions in a mason jar are far more beautiful than the most expensive floral arrangement from the local flower shop.
(Or roses from the neighbor's yard.)
16. If you ask a boy what's wrong and he replies "nothing", he's telling you the truth.
(Leave him alone. He's starting to wonder what's wrong with YOU.)
17. No two are alike.
(I have one that I can't convince to slow down, and one that's never been in a hurry a single day in his life.)
18. Boys are hard wired to keep score... and that's okay by me.
(Competition is in their DNA. I believe in striving to win... it's what makes them try. In a world where everyone's a winner, for fear of feelings getting hurt, I still want my kids to have motivation and be proud of their accomplishments.)
19. No matter how sheltered you keep them, what movies you don't let them watch, video games you don't let them play, they WILL find a way to turn any toy into a weapon.
(Anything.)
20. There very well may be monsters under the bed.
(Name the monster. Invite him to dinner. Monsters don't have to be scary.)
21. It's easier to forget the pain of childbirth, than to forget the pain of stepping on a lego with bare feet.
(Even if you put them up yourself... six months ago... there is still one out there. And somehow, it's in the middle of the floor, where being bright red and all, it should have been obvious.)
22. Boys are drawn to a sharpie like flies on poop.
(Nothing is off limits... walls, carpets, wood floors, your sofa... if you own a sharpie, they will find it.)
23. Once they pass age 6, their clothes are no longer suitable for passing down.
(Don't even bother. Everything has holes in it and stains galore. They don't have to have the most expensive name brand clothing... a lesson that took me a long time to learn. It's the most expensive item that will get barfed on, or covered in mud.)
24. Scars are cool.
(One of my boys once took a spill on the concrete, skinned his entire face up... really, his skin looked like beef jerky. His only concern?? Does it look cool, and will it still be there tomorrow so he can show people at school. True story.)
25. They are tall enough to get it out, but too short to put it away.
(Those games I stash on the top shelf of their closets, or the cereal that I want them to have to ask for help with before getting it down to avoid messes... they will figure out a way to get them down. But then they shrink just a little bit.)
I am sure that by the time I hit 'publish' that I will learn something else. Boys are different... unique. I love being the mother of three sons, and I am more proud of them than they will ever know. I have thoroughly enjoyed the joys of boys so far, and look forward to the continuous battle between good and evil that is raising sons.
Uh-oh, something smells funny... gotta run...
DRD
1. Males can aim a foreign object WAY better than they can aim a part of their own body.
(I live in the country, and it's easier to let them go outside to pee. The boys have their own bathroom, because no girl in her right mind would want to share with them.)
2. That smell is probably coming from their room... and it's not gonna be pretty.
(It might be food that they were hiding; it might be urine soaking into the mattress because they were too embarrassed to tell you they peed the bed... either way, it stinks!)
3. It's easier to learn how to ride a motorcycle than a bicycle.
(And training wheels can be used on dirt bikes too!)
4. Nothing is quite as amusing as a really loud fart.
(No matter how much I disagree... there is one thing all of the males in my house have in common. The funniest joke, isn't spoken from the mouth.)
5. Fighting ninjas is a daily battle. One that you must never give up.
(What? You can't see them? Well, that's because my son is doing a dang good job keeping them away. The sound effects are cool too.)
6. Fear is a way of life when you have boys. They are dangerous. Mom's are terrified.
(They like to jump off of tall things. They like to wrestle. They like to go fast. I really believe boys are not capable of sensing danger.)
7. Five years old is not too young to start planning for that first car.
(Or truck, or jeep. Chances are they have already envisioned it by this age, and boys don't change their minds like girls do.)
8. Shorts and cowboy boots and goggles are a pretty cool fashion statement.
(And saying they look ridiculous makes them feel like you're ashamed of them. Who cares if the old lady at the bank looks at you like you're insane? Your son knows you're proud of who he is. Isn't that more important anyways?)
9. Little league sports are WAY more exciting than college or pro sports.
(Nothing feels more amazing than running along the sidelines as your son runs his first touch down, or standing behind home plate to hear the ball hit his bat, even if he is so excited that he forgets to run!)
10. It's okay to get dirty once in a while.
(Jump in rain puddles, make mud pies, make snow angels... These memories will be well worth the load of laundry. Sometimes, it's even worth having to throw that outfit away entirely. It's still worth it.)
11. Cesarean section scars are no longer ugly. They are battle wounds to be proud of.
(Besides, it gives you proof of where babies come from.)
12. They are, in fact, STILL hungry.
(Boys wake up hungry, go to bed hungry, and eat every chance they get in between. This won't change, so it's better to just get used to it... and make sure to feed them a variety of stuff early on so they aren't picky eaters. My five year old son orders a sandwich with bell peppers, onions, banana peppers, and tomatoes on it; I know he's going to be okay.)
13. It doesn't have to be broken for fixing it to make perfect sense.
(They take things apart. Just to see how it works, and to see if they can put it back together. Maybe even better than before.)
14. Bubble bath has more than one purpose.
(Like pouring out all over the bathroom floor, and slipping and sliding around on all fours. I must admit, when I caught my son doing this, at maybe 18 months old, a little part of me wished our bathroom was bigger. Then again, I could buy it in bulk and we could try it in the kitchen?)
15. Dandelions in a mason jar are far more beautiful than the most expensive floral arrangement from the local flower shop.
(Or roses from the neighbor's yard.)
16. If you ask a boy what's wrong and he replies "nothing", he's telling you the truth.
(Leave him alone. He's starting to wonder what's wrong with YOU.)
17. No two are alike.
(I have one that I can't convince to slow down, and one that's never been in a hurry a single day in his life.)
18. Boys are hard wired to keep score... and that's okay by me.
(Competition is in their DNA. I believe in striving to win... it's what makes them try. In a world where everyone's a winner, for fear of feelings getting hurt, I still want my kids to have motivation and be proud of their accomplishments.)
19. No matter how sheltered you keep them, what movies you don't let them watch, video games you don't let them play, they WILL find a way to turn any toy into a weapon.
(Anything.)
20. There very well may be monsters under the bed.
(Name the monster. Invite him to dinner. Monsters don't have to be scary.)
21. It's easier to forget the pain of childbirth, than to forget the pain of stepping on a lego with bare feet.
(Even if you put them up yourself... six months ago... there is still one out there. And somehow, it's in the middle of the floor, where being bright red and all, it should have been obvious.)
22. Boys are drawn to a sharpie like flies on poop.
(Nothing is off limits... walls, carpets, wood floors, your sofa... if you own a sharpie, they will find it.)
23. Once they pass age 6, their clothes are no longer suitable for passing down.
(Don't even bother. Everything has holes in it and stains galore. They don't have to have the most expensive name brand clothing... a lesson that took me a long time to learn. It's the most expensive item that will get barfed on, or covered in mud.)
24. Scars are cool.
(One of my boys once took a spill on the concrete, skinned his entire face up... really, his skin looked like beef jerky. His only concern?? Does it look cool, and will it still be there tomorrow so he can show people at school. True story.)
25. They are tall enough to get it out, but too short to put it away.
(Those games I stash on the top shelf of their closets, or the cereal that I want them to have to ask for help with before getting it down to avoid messes... they will figure out a way to get them down. But then they shrink just a little bit.)
I am sure that by the time I hit 'publish' that I will learn something else. Boys are different... unique. I love being the mother of three sons, and I am more proud of them than they will ever know. I have thoroughly enjoyed the joys of boys so far, and look forward to the continuous battle between good and evil that is raising sons.
Uh-oh, something smells funny... gotta run...
DRD
Friday, January 27, 2012
heartbreak hallways
Teenagers. They know everything. Especially when they're in love... Yes, I'm in my thirties now, but if I go back twenty years, I put myself in their shoes. Easy to do really, since I've been there. I have teenagers. They tell me their stories (sometimes) of love and heartbreak. I don't have to use much imagination to remember what those feelings were like. The good and the bad.
Oh, when teen love is good, it's great. You're on top of the world. Promises to love forever, and swearing that you're more mature than most people, so it's alright to bet that you'll beat the odds. My high school daughter tells me that kids her age are engaged. I happen to think that's so ridiculous that it's hilarious. Really?! These poor saps actually believe that they'll be together forever, even married. But I remember thinking the same thing... fifteen years and more than one husband ago.
My husband and I were high school sweethearts at one time. As we reminisce about days gone by, he always likes to remind me of how I "dumped him for someone else". So, when one of my kids comes home upset that something similar happened to them... I have to bite my tongue just a little bit. What I wanna say is "WHAT?! NOBODY hurts my baby!"... But what I have to take a deep breath and remember is... I did a lot of heart breaking when I was younger. I once broke up with a boyfriend while he was driving me home, after taking me to see my favorite singer in concert. ON THE WAY HOME!?! Who does that?! I have broken hearts, and I have had my heart broken.
These days, teenagers have the wonderful world of social networking. This is like having tabloids at your fingertips at any given moment. Seriously. One of my kids will be going through a break up one moment, and the next, there's a dozen other potentials all up on their Facebook wall. That’s one luxury we didn’t have. If we liked someone in grade school, we had to take out a pencil and paper… write a note that says “Will you go out with me? YES or NO… Circle one”. It had to be passed around to half the class before it made it to the intended… and we had to wait in desperation for it to be passed back with our fate circled. If we liked someone in middle school, we actually had to muster up the courage to ask one of our friends to go talk to them for us. If we liked someone in high school, we had to ask around to see if our friends thought they might be interested. All in effort of avoiding face to face rejection just in case it didn’t go as planned.
I will continue to nurture my children when they are hurting, all while making light of it, in hopes that they keep their chin up. I will continue to tease them when they exchange ‘I love you’ with their latest crush, because that’s what I do. Keep in mind; I did mention that my husband and I were high school sweethearts. Well, I dumped him for someone else. Then, somehow we found our way back to each other many years later. So, maybe we really did know what we were doing when we were teenagers. Maybe that’s when love is the purest, because our lives weren’t filled with stress. Either way, those hallways have seen a lot of heartbreak.
I love you all ; )
DRD
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Brian
It's so difficult to know where to begin this particular story. I have already typed and backspaced more than ever before. I guess all great stories in history begin with 'Once upon a time'... so I suppose that's a start.
Once upon a time, when I was a young girl in high school, I was introduced to a boy... with the longest mullet I've ever seen. That was socially acceptable back then, by the way. His name? Brian. The second thing I noticed about Brian (the first being the mullet, of course) was his contagious smile. He was hilarious, and I mean a real smart ass kind of hilarious (that, we had in common). And a friendship began.
Over the years, we lost touch, got back in touch, stayed in touch, and considered each other best friends. When Brian needed to talk, he called me. When Brian wanted to vent, he called me. When Brian needed a girl's point of view, he called me. My husband would kid that he'd be jealous, if he didn't also know him well enough to understand that you can't know Brian and not love him. When my phone rang, and his photo came up on my caller ID, my husband would say with a giggle, "I'll find something to do, because you're gonna be busy for two hours". Brian could talk and talk and talk. There was never a single conversation with Brian that I didn't laugh so hard it hurt.
When Brian and I went anywhere, he wanted to take his truck, but he never wanted to drive. He always made me drive so he could fiddle with the radio and change cd's after one song. He claimed to have an 'internal gps' so he'd give me random directions every few minutes, "hang a left here", or "at the next stop sign, turn right". I can't tell you how many times I got lost following that internal gps of his! We would laugh that a trip that should have taken 20 minutes would take two hours! Looking back though, it was worth every single extra moment I was able to spend with him, listening to him sing Chris LeDoux.
We went to the lake together a lot over the last several years. Brian would show up in a button up shirt, and cowboy boots. No joke. He got teased for that a lot. There was one time that my niece was driving the boat, spinning circles, and he jumped out, just to make her think she threw him out! Yeah, he jumped out with his jeans and boots on. He said if he took them off, she'd know he planned it. He later realized it probably wouldn't have hurt to take his keys out of his pocket with the key fob getting ruined and all... But my niece was horrified thinking she tossed him outta the boat.
Brian and I were close enough friends that when I asked him if I could borrow his four wheeler to take to Waynoka, he didn't even hesitate to say yes. And even though I paced and paced when it came time to call and admit to him that I rolled it end over end down an eighty foot sand dune, and asked him if we could still be friends, his reply was "I'm sure that it will be awkward between us for a while, and we'll slowly drift apart and eventually never speak to each other again. So thanks for ruining a perfectly good friendship." Of course, he followed with a "RELAX! I never would have let you borrow it, if I didn't completely trust you." Thankfully, the friendship continued!
When we planned our wedding, we talked about a very small intimate occasion with only immediate family. My son, who was seven years old at the time asked who was coming. I rattled off a few names. He said, "and Brian"!! I said "well, we were considering just having family at the wedding, then having all of our friends over for a big reception". He had a confused look on his face when he replied "but Brian IS family?!" In that moment, I knew he was right. He was more than a friend. He was family. We decided that family wasn't just our biological relatives. We had a big wedding after all, surrounded by our loved ones, whether related or not.
It is now with deep sadness that I write this tribute to Brian, as it is in his memory. Brian meant a lot to me, and to this world. He was an amazing man, a very devoted and loving father, and a compassionate friend. When I refer to myself as the Dirt Road Diva, I can't help but think of Brian as my male counterpart in that area. He was a dirt road country boy, that spent longer getting ready to go somewhere than most divas. He will forever remain a part of my life, as my memories of him will never fade.
To those of you reading this, whether you knew Brian or not... I leave you with this: Never take one moment for granted. If you care about someone, tell them. Tell them often.
Brian, I love you. You were my rock when I needed you. I will cherish our time on this earth together for the rest of my days. Peace out my friend.
The End...
DRD
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Too School for Cool
Really. I put these dreadful purple scrubs on again this morning. 112 days until pinning... in case anyone is counting. Which reminds me, as I begin my job search... NOTE TO SELF: do not even bother applying for a job at any place that would require wearing purple scrubs. I'm burning them in 112 days. Which also reminds me, maybe it was silly to buy the purple tubing for my stethoscope. Looking back, yeah it matched my scrubs for the past two years, but it NEVER will again. But that's the diva in me. It had to match. I even had a panic attack after ordering it online and before it arrived, because I feared it wasn't precisely the same shade of "grape".
I'm thankful that within the next 112 days I get a spring break. I will soon have to come to terms with the idea of never having holidays off. There's no six weeks off in the winter! But on the up side, I'll be getting paid to to the job that for the last two years, I've been PAYING to do. Bonus.
You know you're a nursing student when:
*Your refrigerated items are labeled, dated, and initialed.
*Your arms are toning up from carrying that awful med-surg book around.
*You quickly scramble for a NANDA approved diagnosis whenever anyone complains of anything.
*You can have a conversation about poop and eat at the same time, without missing a beat.
*Your family calls you to ask for your "expert medical opinion".
*You get excited when new admissions are coming in.
*You mumble "when was your last bowel movement?" in your sleep.
*You diagnose yourself with something new every two weeks.
*When you meet someone new, as you shake their hand, instead of the greeting "Nice to meet you" you say, "Nice veins!"
*You know not to believe anyone when they say "No, there is absolutely NO WAY I am pregnant".
*Your family forbids you from discussing your day at the dinner table.
*You hem your pants with steri-strips.
*When you pay your mortgage, you sign 'SN' after your name.
*You eat faster than ever before, usually while still standing.
*You have the bladder of 5 people.
*You maintain a sterile field while cooking dinner.
*You almost giggle when the lady at the pharmacy asks if you have any questions about this medication.
*Your 3 year old has an "owie" and your first words are: "on a scale of 1 to 10"...
*You KNOW that your rational is good, and you will argue to the death for those 2 points.
Some of the above happen to me on a regular basis... some, I have heard or read something similar to before. I did not look them up or copy anything directly from any other source but I am not claiming that they are all my original ideas and I am definitely not going to claim that anther nursing student or nurse could never have the same experiences, or have said or written the same things.
RN or BUST!
DRD
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
New Year's Resolutions, my ASS!
I would put money on the fact that probably just about every American has made a New Year's Resolution at some point in their life, and I'd also bank on the fact that a huge percentage of them never really took it seriously, let alone actually followed through and met their goals. It's so cliche to wait til the first of the year, and vow to change all of your bad habits, or become a "better person" on some level. I'd even go so far as to guess that MOST of these vows are to lose weight, or be more fit, or something along those lines. HA! First of all, good luck. If your New Year's resolution is simply that you are going to lose weight, you are kidding yourself. This is the reason that gyms all over the country are jam packed the month of January, and then come February it's just the same old crowd that was on those tread mills last October. You know, the ones that want you to hurry up and get out of their gym because you're not really gonna stick it out. The gym, on the other hand loves it because they just sucked you in to a two year contract that you'll use for three weeks, and then donate an arm and a leg to while you sit on your fat ass watching TV. The most they will get from you is a deep sigh when you drive by it on your way to the nearest drive thru for a greasy burger and super sized french fries. But what you're gonna be thinking is "those bastards won't let me out of my contract" when what you should really be thinking is "I should have kept going to the gym". After all, you signed the dang thing. If you take this personally and are offended, well, it's just reality. And by the way, I said a huge percentage don't take them seriously. I didn't say everybody.
So, with that being said... Wanna know my New Year's resolution?
Well... I don't have the body of a super model. I came by it honestly... spending several years of my life lugging babies around inside my body. They can't grow in there without me getting bigger too?! And lemme tell you... three cesarean sections will really do some damage! But my resolution is not to lose weight.
I am committing to taking the trash out. Not the trash that's in the can, in the corner of the kitchen... although, that DOES need to be taken out more often. I mean all of the garbage in my life.
For starters, there's those several hundred "friends" on facebook. The ones that friend requested me because we sat next to each other in third grade. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE catching up with old friends, and being in touch with so many of you again. However, if you think that little bar that asks you "what's on your mind" is full of clothes pins for you to air all of your (or anyone else's) dirty laundry, I probably don't need to read it, and neither does the rest of the world. If you suspect your husband / wife / boyfriend / girlfriend is cheating on you, or if you're having a fight with your teenage son / daughter... take care of it at home. Why would you want the kid that sat by you on the bus in sixth grade, but you haven't seen or talked to him since, to have a view into that window? Better yet, what makes you think that we want to see what's inside? If I don't even really know you very well personally, I certainly don't need to know that your husband's ex-wife's sister's boyfriend is secretly seeing some red headed girl that was at such and such bar last night. Tacky. Also, facebook is not going to charge you for your account. But they also aren't going to pay you or anyone else for hitting the share button on some link. Hey guys!! For every follower I get on my blog here, I'm going to take one of my own dollars and donate it to myself in your honor! How's that? Now that's a real promise. Stop copying and pasting stupid crap. I recently gave someone advice to keep the good, and delete the drama, in fact, to remove from your life, ANYONE or ANYTHING that causes you anything but happiness. So, I'm gonna take a spoon full of my own medicine! Taking out the trash!
So... as for those New Year's Resolutions... I'm not advising that anyone stop making goals. I'm just suggesting that if you really want that result, that you not give up on yourself and see it through.
Til next time...
DRD
Monday, January 16, 2012
dirt road diva kick off!
So, I ask my 15 year old daughter what I should write my first blog about... as I have a million things I want to share, but obviously want to take it one topic at a time. She says "umm... your kids". Go figure.
Here's the deal. One could say I have a lot of kids. Back in the day, large families were common. It wasn't out of the ordinary to have eight to ten children. Now people look at you funny if you have more than three. I have seven! I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world... they truly are the spice of life!
Try taking seven kids out to eat. Or, hell anywhere. People actually turn around and count you. Using their finger in the air, as if keeping some kind of tally. Now, my kids are very well behaved in public. (At home is a different story entirely, and I'll save that for another time) So, it's not as if they are acting like rabid animals (at the moment)... people just stare in disbelief.
When I had my third child, people said I was brave. When I had my fourth child, people said I was crazy. People quit keeping track after every time they see you, you're toting a toddler and pregnant again! I call it blessed.
This is how it goes: Four girls, ages 16, 15, 14, 11. Three boys, ages 12, 8, 5. Yeah, we have our hands full. Yeah, there's not enough bathrooms in our house.
I'm a full time nursing student... for just a bit longer. I have to maintain excellent grades, all while managing kids activities. Such as orchestra concerts, band concerts, private drum lessons, private piano lessons, baseball / softball and swim lessons in the summer, football practices and games in the fall, debate tournaments, and learning how to drive a car that I secretly NEVER want you behind the wheel of. This is all in addition of course to school. Some in elementary school, some in middle school, and some in high school. I stay busy. All the time. I consider this to be a super power, and you may suggest super hero names, if you'd like.
Peace out...
DRD
Here's the deal. One could say I have a lot of kids. Back in the day, large families were common. It wasn't out of the ordinary to have eight to ten children. Now people look at you funny if you have more than three. I have seven! I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world... they truly are the spice of life!
Try taking seven kids out to eat. Or, hell anywhere. People actually turn around and count you. Using their finger in the air, as if keeping some kind of tally. Now, my kids are very well behaved in public. (At home is a different story entirely, and I'll save that for another time) So, it's not as if they are acting like rabid animals (at the moment)... people just stare in disbelief.
When I had my third child, people said I was brave. When I had my fourth child, people said I was crazy. People quit keeping track after every time they see you, you're toting a toddler and pregnant again! I call it blessed.
This is how it goes: Four girls, ages 16, 15, 14, 11. Three boys, ages 12, 8, 5. Yeah, we have our hands full. Yeah, there's not enough bathrooms in our house.
I'm a full time nursing student... for just a bit longer. I have to maintain excellent grades, all while managing kids activities. Such as orchestra concerts, band concerts, private drum lessons, private piano lessons, baseball / softball and swim lessons in the summer, football practices and games in the fall, debate tournaments, and learning how to drive a car that I secretly NEVER want you behind the wheel of. This is all in addition of course to school. Some in elementary school, some in middle school, and some in high school. I stay busy. All the time. I consider this to be a super power, and you may suggest super hero names, if you'd like.
Peace out...
DRD
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