Tag: parents


mommy: one word that can contain the world


mom and me- my first Christmas 1967

It’s that time of year again.  Mother’s Day is coming up this Sunday.  I can’t imagine what my friends go through who have lost their mothers or perhaps don’t have the most loving moms.  I am so thankful for my mom, even though she can drive me up a wall at times.  She is the most giving person I know and she’ll kill herself trying to do for you, almost to the point of being ridiculous.  I have a hard time keeping up with her or getting her to “behave”.  She isn’t able anymore to work circles around everyone like she used to so I try to get her to take it easy.  She’s getting a little better at it, but let one of us girls (me or my sis) get sick and need help and she goes crazy.

mom and me- my first Christmas 1967

I have always been the opposite of her.  Sometimes on purpose and sometimes not!  She’s always superbly coifed and dressed to perfection while I am only comfy in jeans and tennis shoes.  She is always worried about how everyone else perceives her (and us) while I usually couldn’t care less.  She tends to be a nagger while I am more apt to take a less confrontational approach.  She’s one of the only people on the earth who I love fiercely and want to strangle at the time time.  Ha ha!

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me about manners and etiquette, for taking care of me all the millions of times I’ve needed you, for not killing me when I deserved it.  For supporting me in your own way as I became a mom and did things completely different from you.  Thanks for the kind words you have said or written about me to others that you probably don’t realize I know about.  Even when I have been heartbroken over problems between us, I have always been thankful for you.

I pray you have an amazing Mother’s Day and EVERY day.  I pray for you improved health and a closer walk with Jesus as we plod on into the future together as a family.  I pray blessings on you each and every day!  I love you, Mom.

me and mom 2010


30 whole years!


Okay y’all… you’ll have to extend some grace here.  I had my 30th wedding anniversary last week and I’m just now posting about it!

weddingtoast

Yes, we were just babies in 1985.

There have been times, over the years, that it wouldn’t have taken much for either of us to just walk away.  It’s been hard at times.  There have also been amazing, awesome, wonderful times, of course.  But those storms when it seems there’s no chance of escaping in one piece can shake you to the core.

But God…  If not for having Him in our lives and in our marriage, we surely would not have made it for thirty years.  Of course, we can do nothing on our own, but we like to think we can.  We so easily forget that it’s only by the will of God that we even breathe let alone move, think, walk and talk.

I’m so thankful that He intervened so many times in our marriage.  I have always felt really glad that both Hubby and I had intact families (neither of our parental units have divorced) and have two examples of half-century marriages to look to, although… *giggle* our marriage looks nothing like either of theirs.

And we don’t want it to!  We exchange knowing looks of agreement when either set of our parents are doing something we find annoying and we’ll laugh or commiserate later that we’re SO glad we don’t “___whatever___” like they do.  I’m sure our kids have the same feelings about us and I guess that’s how life is.

We make our own lives and our own favorite ways of being a couple.

Speaking of the kids, July has become Anniversary Month around here.  Our oldest son and his wife

wedding-victory

wedding-smiles

celebrated seven years of marriage the week before our 30th anniversary, after which our youngest son & his wife

victory

Casey-Taylor-bw-reception

had their first-ever anniversary!  Yep, all within three weeks.

I’m not sure how that happened, but I think it’s kinda cool.  And convenient too in that none of us can quite forget any of the others’ anniversaries.  Ha ha!

I have to admit…I was feeling pretty bummed that we didn’t have any kind of “real” celebration for our 30th though.  I mean, that’s supposed to be some kind of milestone, isn’t it?  I sure don’t know many couples our age who have been married even half this long.  I remember having “dreams” if you will, of being able to take a cruise for our 25th anniversary, but that didn’t happen.  Not for lack of wanting on either of our parts, but for lack of funds?  You betcha.  So five years ago, we plunked down a chunk on a room for the night way high on this mountain, and it was awesome.

It just would have been more awesome if I hadn’t worried about money the whole time.  *sigh*  And here we were five years later, and once again, absolutely no funds for any kind of get-away or even a room for the night somewhere.

I was getting really bummed.  We talked about maybe going to do the Virginia Creeper trail, which is a cycling thing, and that would have been great, but the drive was so long that we’d have been killed to have driven there, ride the trail and then drive back home in one day, so we didn’t even attempt it rather than go and not enjoy it.

After having to replace our air conditioner system (lighting hit it) and then just the week before our anniversary, our water heater broke, saturating the carpet in our bedroom and adding another big expense we couldn’t afford… we just didn’t have any extra money for anything big.

I had spent the week being really sad over it to the point I just didn’t want to do anything.  However, the day arrived, a Sunday, and my best friend from high school, who I hadn’t seen in probably 10 or more years, who has recently moved back here with her newly-adopted TWO YEAR OLD son!!!  She was coming to our church and wanted to see if we could meet and at least sit together.  Of all days for this to happen, on our 30th anniversary had to be a “God thing” because this sweet lady was my one and only “bridal party”..my maid of honor!!!  How cool is that??

So, we got to meet her adorable little guy, visit for a bit, then we took off.  We’d gotten a coupon for a free appetizer at a restaurant we like, but there’s not one near us, so before I even knew what he was doing, Hubby was on the interstate and all he’d say was we were going to eat.

We drove 100 miles away, found the restaurant and had a great meal.  By this time, God had worked on my sour attitude and I was just enjoying time with my husband of 30 whole years.  I began to think about how hard-working and caring he is.  How he’s encouraged me to try harder and do more than I ever would have attempted myself.

30yrstogether2

Later, we stopped in a couple of surplus home goods stores and bought a few little items, found a gorgeous duvet cover with shams for our king size bed for just $18!!  Then we walked through the other place, that was more for builders I guess.. it had furniture and decor and we saw some gorgeous items that gave us some inspirations for future improvements on the house.

Then we went to a couple of health food stores and he helped me pick out meals for the coming week.  His request, saying “since it’s our anniversary”… LOL! is for me to start eating better.

*sigh*

Well, okay.  So, we ended the day at Whole Foods, where we ate a slice of “wholesome” pizza and drank his ever bottle of kombucha tea (which I’ve been thinking about attempting to brew myself)kombucha-WF

and then stopped at the Walmart at home to pick up some batteries we needed and I bought us a selfie stick.  See?

selfiestick

This is the photo I sent to the kids showing them how techno-savvy their parents are.  HAHAHA!!

And so, our 30th anniversary came and went and left me with a sense of satisfaction.  I am sad that I’ve wasted so many years being dissatisfied with things, life, people, myself… but I am doing my best to change things now.

And I’m looking forward to reaching our 50th anniversary and yes, still hoping we might have a bit bigger celebration by that time.  But if not, I know that’ll be okay too.

We have each other and we’re happy.  That’s enough.

Philippians 4:11-12Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.”


a new name for Undieman


After leaving you hanging with this post, I had to scramble to recall the details of the incident I’m about to recollect for you.

Okay, so my dad is weird,  We figured that one out already.  He marches to the beat of his own drum, you might say (yes, possibly in his underwear) so don’t even think you know the tune he’s drumming or what his drum’s even made of because nobody knows.  No-body.  I’m not sure if this incident had anything to do with his weirdness or if it was just “dumb luck”.

Like I said, his very own drummer, uhkay?

This happened when my boys were not quite teenagers yet and I’m not really sure why we were all there at bedtime, but for some reason we were.

Dad had already got in bed, but he was watching TV in there.  Maybe the boys were being loud or something.  I honestly can’t remember.  What I DO remember is that he suddenly started hollering, “Hey!  HEY!  SOMEBODY COME IN HERE!”

I dunno who went in first, but I remember calling through the door to ask what was wrong.  Didn’t wanna risk another viewing of Undieman, ya know?  So I hollered through the door.

He said, “There’s something in here!”  Well, yeah, if I’d had time to think about it, I would have probably rolled on the floor laughing at the ludicrousness of him saying that now, some 20 years after this incident, but I didn’t have time.  Now, however, it makes me crack up.

So my eldest son, who was probably around 12 or 13 at the time, opened the door as I peered into the room from behind him.  All I could see was Dad in the blue flicker of TV light, with the covers pulled up under his nose staring wide-eyed at the ceiling in the corner of the room.

“What is that thing?”, he said, and pointed to where he was looking so intently.

We both leaned in, staying behind the door because frankly, Dad was freaking us out a little.  What we saw was hard to make out, but at first it appeared to just be a big black blob up in the corner of the room.   Yes indeed, scary enough if you’ve watched as many spooky movies as I have, but as our eyes adjusted to the low light, we could make out the skin-like wings of a bat!

By this time, my husband had come on the scene from wherever he had been.  Perhaps he was trying to keep his distance from the bedroom?  I guess maybe the possibility of seeing your father-in-law in his skivvies was more than he wanted to deal with at the time, but he went on in to see if it was indeed a bat and what could be done to get the thing out of the house!

In case you’re wondering, no, this wasn’t the same house that had Undieman running for his life.  It was actually a house that had been my grandparents’ for as long as I could remember.  It was built in the 1940’s so it was a fairly old house, although very solid and not at all ramshackle or run-down like you might imagine a bat would like to hang around in.  Maybe this was a progressive, rebel bat who was looking for a more modern scene?

what all the cool bats wear when they go out clubbin’

Anyhow, so Hubby proceeds to try shooing the bat out, which leads my mother to scream bloody murder lest the thing escape the bedroom and be set loose to fly all over the house.  I think she figured she didn’t have to sleep in the bedroom in case we had to just shut the thing up in there and wait for an exterminator.  The hubby soon learns that This Bat will not be shoo’ed.  He simply flaps and squawks at Hubby’s pathetic attempts to make him leave.  Once or twice, The Bat flew from one corner to another, which didn’t get him any closer to being outside and was apparently a little unnerving to both men judging from the occasional yelps that came from inside the room.

In a few minutes, Hubby sticks his head out the door and instructs the boys to find something to catch the bat in.  My mind went completely blank as it raced to try even fathoming what my parents might have lying around that would double as a bat catcher.  Before I could start a list of possibilities, our eldest comes to the door with a couple of lacrosse sticks from the set Mom had bought the boys to play with.  PERFECT!

With a bit of effort, Hubby soon had The Bat scooped into the nets and holding the sticks together in the most ridiculous fashion he hurried out the front door that Mom was holding open. She slammed it shut almost before my poor hubby made it outside, as if The Bat had come through the front door in the first place.

And so that, my friends, is the story of that time a bat got in Dad’s bedroom and he got a new name, although not really a superhero name like Undieman.

Can you guess what it was?


a stinky little story


Once upon a time, many years ago, I was a little girl.  Yes, I know, hard to imagine, right?  Just play along….

shocked face

I was perhaps 11 or 12 years old.  My sister would have been 7 or 8 at this time, but that doesn’t matter because in this story, she was at Mamaw’s house anyhow.

So back to me.  This was back in the day of the stereo.  If you were born after 1990, you have no clue what this is.  Go google it.  But anyhow, I had a stereo and I usually kept the radio playing at night.  Not loud, but softly because it helped me sleep.  I had my own room with these heavy thermal drapes on the two windows, which would help block out the street lamp that was just outside one of them.  We didn’t live on a street, we lived in the woods actually, so we just called it a night light, but it was one of those huge bulbs up on a pole that came on at dusk and went off at dawn.  That window was right behind my stereo and at night, I would draw the curtains almost closed so that only a thin shaft of light could come into the room and I wasn’t in total darkness.

This is important, trust me.

During this time, my mother had a ceramic shop in the basement.  You might not know what this is either if you are a post-1990 model person.  You can google that too if you want, but as you might have guessed, it was a shop where people could buy and paint ceramic chachkies.  It was all the craze in the 80’s.  Often Mom would spend hours upon hours down there because she not only sold the ceramics, paints and brushes, she also poured and dried her own pieces.  She was big-time into it.

She also had this thing…she couldn’t bear for someone’s eyes to be poorly painted.  Not their personal, real eyes, but the eyes on the various and abundant so-called life-like pieces of ceramic she sold.  We had Indians and cartoon people, Smurfs and all sorts of animals… rabbits, tigers, bears, beagles… you name it.  A lot of times people would just ask Mom to paint the eyes for them.  The type of people who usually did this were those who were too lazy or afraid to try doing it themselves, and granted, Mom liked doing it. But I suspect there were a few who knew that after everyone had gone home, Mom would go around and “fix” eyes on all the pieces left behind.  I think they either figured why bother if she was gonna re-do them anyhow, or they wanted to humor her.  I honestly don’t know.  It makes me laugh now to think about it, but I wonder how many were insulted by her doing that or perhaps so shocked at how well they had done on those eyes after they looked so awful last week.  Bahaha!

So anyway, that’s where Mom was on the night in question.  Dad had long ago stopped trying to get her to go to bed before the early a.m. and he had to work, ya know, so he’d just go on to bed without her.

Sometime before she finally came up to bed, I heard him out in the front yard making a horrific noise.  My dad is not like normal people.  SERiously!  There are SO many ways that could apply, but in this instance what I mean is that when most people get an upset stomach, they would go to the bathroom and do their get-sick thing.  But my dad?  Nope.  He goes out in the front yard.  Why?  I have no clue.  Maybe he didn’t want Mom to hear him?  Maybe he didn’t want me to hear him?  Possibly, but if that were the case, he probably should have shut the front door behind him then only the light-sleeping neighbors may have been awakened, but as it was, he left the front door open while he was ralphing all over the great, big, unsuspecting world.

So, in a bit, he must have come in, locked the front door back (because we are BIG door-lockers in my family—you don’t want any criminals getting in, do ya?) and went back to bed…and that’s where we were that fated night.  Like I said, my sister was at Mamaw’s so she missed the whole debacle, but me?  I was RIGHT THERE in the middle of the whole thing.

Actually, the “whole thing” came to me.

I think it must have been around 3 a.m. when an odd sound woke me up.  Like I said, I slept with my radio playing but unless the station went out or they played one of those god-awful “test of the emergency broadcast system” things, it never woke me up so I listened.  It was a kind of scratching sound and I couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from.

I sat up and looked around the dimly lit room as best I could and shortly, I saw something move in the floor near the edge of my bed.

Oh yeah.  This sleepy head was ALL wide-and-awake now, you betcha!  I looked and looked, but had lost sight of whatever it was.

So remember that window by the night light and that shaft of light that fell into my room?  Well, about that time, “whatever it was” walked through that shaft and right under my bed…and I saw, quite clearly what was in my room.

IT WAS A SKUNK!!!!   AND IT HAD JUST GONE UNDER MY BED, PEOPLE!!!!!

skunk

I am SO not kidding!!  There was a real, live skunk wandering around in my room!  By this time, i had started hollering at mom down the hall. Not screaming or anything, just calling out to her.  That part of the house was layed out like this::  (be kind now, I’m no draftsman, obviously!)

So Mom and Dad’s room was basically at the end of the hallway from mine.  I knew there was no way that Dad would ever wake up, so I didn’t even try him.  Finally Mom came plodding down the hallway.  I knew she hadn’t been in bed long, but also knew she’d come because, love her heart, she always did…with my diabetes and my sister’s epilepsy, she never knew what might be wrong if one of us called out, so I hated to wake her.  But I knew we HAD to do something to get Mr. Skunk OUT of my room!!  At that time, yes, I had no concept or concern for the rest of the house, I just wanted that thing out of my room!

When Mom got close to my room, I said, “Mom, don’t come in here, just reach in and turn on the light.”  I remember being fairly calm and I have no clue why or how I was, but I just knew that I HAD to keep her from walking into the room.  I’m not sure why I didn’t just turn on the lamp by my bed other than I was probably afraid to reach beyond it at this point.

To this, Mom said, “What?” and I know full well she was thinking Crap, her sugar’s probably low again!   But I said it again, as calmly and non-low-blood-sugary as I could, “Mom!!  DO NOT come in here, just reach in and flip on the light.”  And to my surprise, she did it.  By that time, my dad was awake and standing in the doorway too in all his glory (that’d be his underwear)… he was mumbling something as I told Mom, “There’s a skunk in here.  Under my bed.”  I am cracking up as I write this thinking what in the world must have been going through their heads when I said that.

Possibly something along the lines of, “Good lord!  Other parents have kids who get scared of monsters in their closets, but no, our kid has to have skunks under her bed.  Maybe her sugar is really, really low…”  laughing so hard now  I just can’t imagine what, if anything in that sleep state, went through their minds.

Thankfully…sorta… before they had time to question my sanity, Mr. Skunk came crawling out from under my bed and aimlessly wandered into my closet.  See?  I TOLD YOU there was a skunk in here!

Mom and Dad’s mouths kinda dropped open and Dad swears they didn’t do this, but I remember him looking at Mom, scratching his head all the while and they both turned and walked away, mumbling to each other.   They just left me sitting there in the middle of the bed.  So, I did the only thing I knew… I jumped off the end of my bed what felt like a full 15 feet out into the hallway and ran down to where they were by the front door.

Apparently, they had hatched a plan by this time because Dad seemed to be determined and awake now.  I don’t know why it sticks out in my mind so much…my dad always slept in his “draws”…his tighty-whiteys, but for some reason, I have vivid images of him moving around, dealing with this ridiculous situation in his ridiculous Undieman “costume” and I can NOT remember this whole incident without seeing him that way.  Most often I would be like ewww!

but that’s what I remember and so it cracks me up!! Every. Single. Time!

I can’t find an image that gives you anywhere near the idea of what it was exactly like, and I refuse to look anymore…and kids, do NOT google it!  Just use your imagination so you’re with me on the crack-up scale, okay?  It was FUNNY!

In my recollections, I call this Undieman VS Mr. Skunk: The Epic Battle.  Yes.  I do.

So I stood there with Mom in the foyer, Undieman went back toward my room, turning on the hall lights and reaching in to turn off the light in my room.

In just a few seconds, we heard BOOM, BOOM, BOOM as Undieman came running down the hallway toward his and Mom’s bedroom and SLAM! as he slapped the door shut and right on his heels was Mr. Skunk and we soon heard the sound of his claws scratching on the bedroom door as he tried furiously to get to Daddy!

Mom and I were stunned.  I know, this is one of those roll-on-the-floor-laughing-your-butt-off moments.  Trust me, I am with you, but at that time, we were just flabbergasted.  In a few more seconds the digging stopped and we watched, mouths hanging open, as Mr. Skunk plodded back towards my bedroom as if he’d just tossed a cat out of the house.

About that time, we heard Dad yelling to open the front door.  We seldom ever used that door.  This was your typical 1980’s style house with a front door back in the “L” of the house in a little nook that was dark and never used except for an occasional nocturnal, environmental puking session and my wedding.  (but that’s another story!)  But their master bathroom window opened up right adjacent to the door, so Undieman could give us instructions from his prison-slash-bathroom, which was pretty convenient after all.  He said he was going to try opening the door again, so we waited….

We could hear the click and rattle of the door knob and apparently so could Mr. Skunk because he came flying toward Undieman again when SLAM! Undieman smacked the door shut again and again, there was a minute of furious digging and then…silence as Mr. Skunk strolled back to my his room again.

U-man was back at the window telling us to make some noise so we might lure him toward the front door.  In a flash, (seriously, I don’t know where she got that thing so fast) Mom now had a heavy runner, you know, one of those long hallway rugs, holding it longways in front of her like a shield.  I was supposed to be behind her, but I stayed slightly beside her so I could see what was going on.  We eased down the hallway a bit and started talking, I guess.  I honestly don’t remember the noises we made… but as we did that, we backed up to our previous position by the open front door.

Soon, here came Mr. Skunk, slowly mosying his way towards us…none of us saying a word.  He stopped right in front of me and Mom and looked up at us as if to say, “How y’all doin’?” and turned to head out the door.

I’m thinking, “YES!  He’s leaving!  What a rel…”

My relief was interrupted…. I have no idea what possessed my mother at this point.  Some fierce she-bear thing or just a sleep-deprived adrenaline-fueled break with reality but she hollered “GIT OUTTA MY HOUSE!” and snapped that rug at Mr. Skunk’s behind.

I am TOTALLY not kidding you.

My dad almost passed out.  I can see him peeking out that bathroom window with a look of horror on his face as he said, “Are you crazy, woman??!!”   You know he meant business because Daddy never called Mom “woman” like that.

And so, that is how this saga ends.  Mr. Skunk went on his way.  He lived to terrorize some other unsuspecting soul, I suppose.  Undieman hung up his invisible cape and never battled Mr. Skunk again.

Although, there was that time a bat got in his room….