Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Lessons for my daughters...

In random rambling through the world wide web, I ran across this blog from "Metrodad". I was immediately intrigued and felt obligated to share. What lessons do I want to pass on to my girls?  One of my definite favorites is from a recent email titled, "Rules for Dating My Daughter" . 1) Don't pull into the driveway and simply honk your horn, unless are just here to deliver a pizza.


Read the blog and then chime in on what lessons you would like to share with your children.

(From the blog site, http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1pWQPs/metrodad.typepad.com/index/2009/07/the-rules-25-life-lessons-for-my-daughter.html)


July 08, 2009

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Life in the fast lane

Yes, well obviously One more thing.... really did become one more thing, and it was one more thing I have ignored for quite some time! It has been a crazy and busy semester - babies have been born; I've celebrated another year of life; we've shared the loss of life with friends; we've been to see Mickey; we've weathered the storms; we've played in the snow...shall I continue?!?

My mom always said that the older you get the faster time seems to fly. Well, I can now truly appreciate that statement. It seems like I was just complaining about my wimpy snow babies, and now we are just weeks away from the end of the school year! Whew - time really has flown!!!

Interestingly enough, the end of this school year brings me to my next stream of thought - this fall, I will have a third grader and a FIRST grader! Gasp!!! My BABY will be in "real" school.  Be still my heart. She was only one week old when we moved to DeSoto County. At this point, as a family, we have lived here longer than any where we have ever been. Wow!

The reflection on our time here takes me back to the week that I'm still not quite sure how we survived!!! It was May 23, 2005. I was 39 weeks pregnant; Emily was 2 1/2 yrs. old, and I had just walked out of Houston Middle School for the last time with an armload of "we'll miss you" gifts from my dear friends and co-workers there. Mel, Emily, and I headed to Ackerman and spent the night in preparation for our thirty-minute drive at 5:30 a.m. the next morning to Oktibbeha County Hospital where our sweet Allie would join our family. Two days later, on Thursday, we headed home as a family of four. On Friday, Mel and my dad, drove to Olive Branch to do the final walk-through on our new home. We feverishly packed all weekend, then headed to OB with a week-old baby to close on our new house. Upon return to Houston that day, we were welcomed by 9 new baby Bassett hounds, compliments of our sweet dog Bette. The next day we closed on the sell of Houston home, and moved three hours away from my family to our home in Olive Branch with a 2 1/2 yr old, a one-week old, and 9 one-day old puppies. Praise the Lord we survived!

Well, that's enough of a trip down memory lane for now, but wait, one more thing... although it was a tumultuous and emotional move, we wouldn't trade our time and lives here for anything. We have been blessed with great jobs, loving friends, and tons of unique opportunities for our family and children.

Until I think of one more thing.....

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Wimpy Snowbabies

Happy New Year! So, after quite a voracious start in December, I let "One More Thing" fall by the wayside during the Christmas (or should I say Sickmas, as it was referred to at our house) and New Year seasons! Praise the Lord though, I must say, He graciously allowed the stomach virus to remain in Choctaw County!! We are now off and rolling into another blessed year of life and counting down the days until we can say that Spring has sprung! (And NO, I'm not the grammar guru in this instance because I can never remember when Spring should and when spring should NOT be capitalized. Who knew you could make it all the way through the completion of a Ph.D. and still be uncertain of numerous grammar rules. Go figure!)

New Years always brings to mind the saying, "Out with the old, and in with the new." Well, today the "old" stuff I'm getting rid of is really just a random thought that just makes me go hmmmmmmm. The new is that instead of this random thought being wasted on just me, I'm sharing it with you. Yes, you really should consider yourself lucky.

Random thought #1:  Are we raising our children today to be, how shall I say, wimpier than in previous generations? This musing comes from my family's escapades in the snow this past week.

My Wimpy Snowbabies
Granted we are rearing two girls instead of boys, which is a ridiculous excuse for most behaviors I think, BUT, within minutes of walking out in the four glorious inches of snow we received, someone was crying! Seriously?!? And it was all because someone, who shall remain nameless, got snow down someone else's shirt. Then once those tears had abated, more tears from someone else because getting hit by an UNPACKED snowball apparently really hurts. This tearful event was quickly followed by another crying session because somebody "knocked" somebody else down in the snow.

The Morseman
Take notice of our sweet Allie in the window inside the house staring oddly at the Morseman. Yes, she gave up the fight only minutes into the snow fun. It was just too cold, she said. (That has to be some of her daddy's California blood coming out! ha!) Times is hard I say. So right now, I'm sure you're thinking, "Get a grip! They are kids; they are girls; they live in the city; they only see snow once a year. Whatever! Toughen up I say! Mel and I could be millionaires if someone would pay us just a quarter for every tear that falls in our house! Now let me continue by saying that I don't think the wimpiness (yeah, that's probably not even a real word!) is just my girls. At noon on our first snow day, we were the ONLY family on our street who were even out of the house!!! There were no other snowmen being constructed, no other snowballs being thrown, no other snow angels being made! I just don't get it - maybe there really is a reason "The Diary of a Wimpy Kid" is such a big seller.

Oh, and just one more thing, if you are wondering, I am a very emotional person. (You know, the kind of person that cries just because they see someone else crying? Yep, that's me.). It makes me quite mad at myself, however, when I cannot control my emotions and allow it to make me appear not in control. I think that is the root of my concern about rearing wimpy kids. I want my girls to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God has an amazing plan for each of their lives, and that they are strong, smart, independent girls who will grow to be strong, intellectual, independent women who can be and do anything they desire and more. I want them to know that God did indeed create us to be physically inferior to men, (And I'm good with that - otherwise, who would open the pickle jar when the lid is stuck?!?) but that inferiority does not mean that we are weak. The phrase "suck it up" really comes to mind. There will be many, many times in life where the figurative unpacked snowball will hit them, and I want to know that they aren't just going to stand there and cry. I am a firm believer that each of us have the ability to choose our attitude each and every day. I want to know that Mel and I are rearing two girls who know how to take the figurative unpacked snowball to the face and then turn right around and smile, because in the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't that bad. So, to conclude my randomness for the night, I close with this random question, with apologies to Jeff Kinney, why isn't "The Diary of the I'm-Not-Gonna-Be-Wimpy Kid" NOT a best seller.


"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Dr. Seuss





Sunday, December 12, 2010

Dashing through the snow...

So for the first time ever, the girls and I decided to make their teachers' Christmas gifts rather then purchase ready-made gifts. My original thought was that it would save money. Well....five containers of chocolate walnut chunk cookie mixes later, I can't say that I'm sold on the cost-saving factor, but I can say the experience of making those gifts with each of my girls was definitely worth it! (I'm not even talking about all of the fabulous ways we covered so many measurement and number sense objectives!) Having the opportunity to spend quality one-on-one time with each of them was invaluable!

In the constant hustle and bustle of life, I often feel as if I am "dashing through snow", figuratively speaking. I rush from one meeting to the next, from one place to the next, many times without pausing to truly experience any of them. Am I a bad mother if I admit that this often includes the time I have with my girls? We have time together almost every day, but frequently my mind is elsewhere or I'm simply wiped out after the work day.

Today, getting to stand side-by-side with each of them and show them how to measure out 1/2 cup of sugar or 1/4 teaspoon of salt, this was not the case. It was so fun getting to see them feel and describe the "soft" flour, the "sticky, sticky" brown sugar, and the "crunchy" baking soda, all the while letting them scoop, measure, count, and layer the ingredients. The highlight was hearing each of them say, unbeknownst to the other, how "cool it is to make things with you, Mommy!" SO, whether it was a money-saving experience or not, it doesn't really matter. It was one of those moments of childhood every parent has been advised to cherish every one of. It was also one of those experiences that will hopefully remind me to reduce the amount of time I spend "dashing through the snow" over the next couple of weeks, and instead stop and truly cherish the time I will have to spend with my amazing daughters.

Oh, and one more thing...Emily was against making the gifts from the beginning and said we should just buy something. By the end of the afternoon, however, she was a convert and said, "I'm really glad we made these instead of buying some. I think our teachers will really like them, especially when we tell them we made them!"

the cookie mix recipe

the "almost layers" up close


the finished products!

"Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin." 
— Mother Teresa

Friday, December 10, 2010

I am so annoyed! Who is with me?

Meetings without agendas. People who will not be quiet while a speaker is presenting. Older people who must be "in the know". A completely decorated, pre-lit tree where 2/3 of the lights quit working. Styrofoam cups with holes in them. Crumbs in the bed. Lack of organization. Expedited shipping that is one day faster than standard shipping but $10 more expensive. Ugly dolls that are insanely overpriced. Bossy people. Complaining for the sake of complaining. Excuse-making. 

Ok, I feel better....and yes, that is just from one day!

OH, and one more thing...meeting your health insurance deductible with only three weeks left in the year!

"The greatest part of our happiness depends on our dispositions, not our circumstances." 
 Martha Washington

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Because I need one more thing!

I'm intrigued by blogs. Not really sure why, but reading what usually amounts to someone's ramblings on about any or no particular topic at all interests me. Do you suppose it is because of the conversation void that technology has created in most of our world? Is it human nature's desire to "spy" or eavesdrop on others? Who knows, but I figured it was about time I delve into this technological realm of journaling.

It's quite humorous to think that I am currently the only person who will read this, in which case is my intrigue with the blog, simply a desire to journal? Who knows - we'll see! Maybe I will share favorite quotes, or maybe I will share favorite recipes, or maybe I will even share tech tips. Whatever direction my brain leads me, my phalanges will follow! Enjoy and who knows, maybe you'll find one thing worthwhile!

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
— Mark Twain