Thank God for discretion!

Tonight at Wal-Mart, as we were running errands, Olivia has to use the bathroom. Not sure why we can't master using it before we leave home, but nevertheless...we go and of course the buggy is full: Kayla, the diaper bag, our coats, and our shopping "booty." So, I tell Olivia to go in alone while I stand (with everything else) by the door. Side note - Olivia likes the "big potty" which is aka the handicapped one. I have tried to tell her it is for wheelchairs, etc., to no avail. I assume she gets it, but bigger must mean better, so she HAS to use that one. She has even been known to cry when it is unavailable. She even has "war stories" from preschool about how she beat someone to the big potty, or someone beat her and that was just "not nice." We take turns, Olivia, even with big potties, I tell her.

Back to the point, Olivia goes in to the bathroom alone and a few seconds later I hear tugging at the door. I open it and she proceeds to tell me those potties are "too dirty" to use. Now, I was not in there, but thank God for her discretion as there is really no telling what it was, and I did not feel compelled to investigate. Luckily, nearby was a family potty someone pointed out. That was not much cleaner, likely, but at least I could somewhat monitor what she touched and make sure we cleaned our hands well. Some days you are thankful for the little things, like your child knowing what constitutes as "disgusting", lol!

The beginning...

For some reason this past week or so I have been feeling nostalgic, so bear with me. Maybe it is the holidays, maybe it is just looking back on the journey sometimes that helps you realize how far you have come. Nonetheless, I was thinking that maybe one day my kids would be reading this and would want to know history, so here goes, to tell of the beginning.

Kevin and I are both from Byhalia, MS. He is 7 years older, so we never ran in the same circles nor did we go to school together. I worked at Big Star when I was in high school, I was in the 10th grade. I was a cashier, so I was in the front door and there was a large window in front of the registers, so we could see into the parking lot. I remember seeing Kevin get out of his car...like it was yesterday...and I'm thinking 'what a handsome young man', or something like that, lol! I asked another cashier about him; she knew him and stated he is "too old" for you - as he was her older sister's age. But, I am always up for a challenge, so I talked to him briefly, and gave him my number (ok, mom, I know). Eventually he called, we talked...I lied about my age because I knew he was older. Later, I told the truth, thankfully he forgave me:) When we met, I was 15...we talked casually, eventually dated and were exclusive. I had only had like two other "dates/boyfriends" before him, but from the first time I saw him, we had a connection.

One of the more challenging parts of our relationship was dealing with our families. His, of course, thought I was too young. Mine, of course, thought I was too young. When we decided to get married, my parents (reluctantly) supported me, as did his:) My extended family was not so supportive. They really had more opposition because it was different, I was young, and mostly because he was black. Not having them support me was the hardest thing I have dealt with to date, but I think it made my marriage stronger because we did it mostly alone. We did not have many people to lean on, but that forced us to deal with issues amongst ourselves and work things out. I was told I was going to Hell, but knew God loved me...I was told I was probably "just pregnant" but did not have my first child until SIX years later. Thankfully, now our families are supportive and the brokenness mended. I wondered for the longest time if I would be able to attend another relative's wedding in which my family willingly supported, but I did not have to make that choice. Only my brother has married since (twice), and though not many of us agreed with his first marriage, we all attended to support his decision. I did not want anyone else to have to get married the same way I did, with disappointment clouding their "happy day."

Ten years later we are still going strong, though not without our bumps in the road. Our two girls are such blessings and the opposition we once faced forged us closer, making us better people and parents. I had no idea how to pick a husband at age 18, nor did I know what a challenge marriage was in general. It had to have been God and he chose for me my one true soul mate. When you have something worth fighting for, take a stand and fight, knowing you will be better for it in the end:) Love!

Tough times...

Darius Rucker's "It won't be like this for long" is now my theme song, bittersweet as it is. That song always brings tears to my eyes, but at times, a sigh of relief, lol! Having two kids now is such an adjustment, never a dull moment, never downtime. I always am saying that no one told me it would be this hard. Even if they had, I probably would have thought they were pansies. I now know first hand that this is not for the faint of heart. Thank God I had babies when I was young. We are learning more and more to go with the flow, but still find ourselves quite ill-equipped most days:) Parenting is the hardest, most wonderful thing ever! We will truly look back on this and miss it. I'm only 28, but now understand the concept of grandchildren being your reward, though I am NOT rushing that!!!

Houston, we are mobile:)

Today, Kayla began to roll...and roll...and roll! She has postponed interest in crawling for the immediate gratitude of rolling. Yes, this means I must begin re-baby-proofing my home, but it is a step towards her not needing to be carried everywhere (eventually). Bittersweet, but more sweet right now. I may change my mind soon:)

Jokes on me...

Me: "If you act ugly after getting candy, next time I am going to have to say 'no' to the candy."

Olivia: "Silly mommy...the candy is not a person, you can't tell it 'no.'

Me: "Did you blow your nose? It sounded like you just wiped it, not blew it."

Olivia: "My nose is not blue."

Q - When do kids start talking back?

A - When they can talk.

Lovely!

Life and death...

I was faced with something at work today that I have never had to witness. I think it was so shocking that I really had no emotion at the time, though I can picture myself crying in the midst of others.

A child, a 16 year old healthy young man, stared potential death in the face. Having recently went to the doctor and being diagnosed with about 10% heart usage, he is facing life changing events that I would not wish on anyone. Being told you have to change your lifestyle and that you will likely need a heart transplant within 10 years, but you won't get one if you don't fully cooperate. He was getting in trouble for attempting to play basketball and football, against doctors orders. How hard would that be? To have something on the inside not working and not being able to see or feel the effects of that. He says he feels fine and wants to show the others what a great player he is.

Due to his being in DCS custody, his mom is having to await a judge's decision to grant him permission to return home...basically, so if he dies he will be at home. Your child is dying and is not with you, and change will only be determined by the judge. How do you convince your child not doing something they enjoy (sports) is the best thing for them? Or, would you allow them to do what makes them happy, to the best of their ability, enjoying life and leaving things to God. Truth is, it is up to God, anyway! I have no idea how I would handle this and pray, pray, pray I am spared the need to figure it out!

I'm going off to kiss my babies:)

Making a difference...

In my little piece of the world, I really do try to make a difference. I am not saying I am effective, I will simply say I try. I can't imagine doing anything else in my life right now...when I go to work, most days I am surrounded by delinquents. Some want to change, some try to change, and others don't even know where to start.

Seeing these kids really helps me to stay positioned to be thankful for all that I have (and have not) experienced. I hope to always be supportive of my own kids, never turning my back on them. I am blessed that my parents never left me to fend for myself, not even now, and I am an adult. Although, in some parents' defense, I have not done the things these children have done. I pray that if I were ever to have to practice real "tough love" with my own kids, I will be truly tough enough to dish it out.

Some people need advocates; some of their actions cry out for help, even though asking for help is the last thing they would ever do. So, when I am given an inch, I advocate a mile for these kids. Hopefully I am not enabling, yet showing them how unconditional positive regard can feel. The weight of assisting someone to change is heavy; the realization that it is not my decision is frustrating, yet lightens my load. Pray for my endurance:)

The weigh we are...

Well, having just given birth to a (lovely) baby 6 months ago, it may not come as a surprise that I would love to shed a few post-baby pounds. I am sure every woman who has had a baby would agree, there are lingering reminders that we prefer were no longer there. Some people will say "it took 9 months to put on, you should expect a while for it to leave, as well." I agree with this completely, especially since taking care of the household and raising that baby, along with any others, take precedent over exercise. Trying to reassure myself, as well as other moms, that all is okay with our adjusted appearance, takes a lot of work...mentally, mostly:)

It is a known fact that society places unrealistic expectations on women in general, to fit us all into the same mold. Outwardly we know that mold won't hold everyone, nor will others even fill the mold up. It is interesting that I have friends who I would refer to as "skinny" who still have issues with aspects of their appearance. I have some friends who don't even like to be referred to as "skinny", as if it made them feel like they were not womanly or good enough. Vice versa, no one wants to be called large or big boned, either. Having two little girls of my own to raise, this issue is in my thoughts constantly. How can I make sure they know how beautiful they are, no matter what anyone else may say?

While looking through old clothes a few days ago, I was ridding my stash of items that I gave up trying to fit in again. Items too small. I laughed out loud at myself as I sorted them, thinking about how I felt about myself at that time. When I was an 8, I thought I was too big b/c friends wore a 6. When I was a size 10, same thing. 12, same thing. Funny that now I THINK I would be happy in a size 8 or 10. I truly believe no matter what exercise or diet you complete, some people are just made differently, by genetics (aka God). I have been guilty of looking at other women who are larger than me and 1 - being thankful I was not their size (yet!) and 2 - thinking they looked better than me, even though they were larger. I understand the conundrum of men at times, women, we just never will be happy:)

God loves us, he does not put a size limit on his love. That being said, I am unsure of where the common ground can be found. Society may never be satisfied with us and we may not ever be satisfied with ourselves. It is one of those "which came first, the chicken or the egg" type of questions. I say we take it day by day and make a valid attempt to accept ourselves and others, proving that we are all beautiful, inside and out. I speak that to myself, as well, and know...some days the exercise and dieting is the easy part, unconditional acceptance of ourselves is the real battle!

Edibles...

You know, I have been thinking. Since having my first child, who is now 3, I considered going into a business to create edible items for kids. It never failed that I would bathe her and then apply that wonderful smelling lotion, only for her to attempt to lick it off my hands. As I rub it on her face, she just sticks out her tongue. Now the wiser, Kayla I distract to apply lotion to her face, then quickly stopped myself the other day from making my way down her arms to her tiny little hands. Hands which very quickly enter her mouth at every chance they get. Not smart, I thought, to put it on her hands, just to end up in her mouth.

Maybe I should invest in organic lotion, so maybe whatever is ingested could at least, possibly be found in nature in some form. If I was business savvy, I could attempt to launch my own product. Come to think of it, why stop with lotion. All things should have an edible version! My 3 year old also licks chap stick from her lips....she just put the pump of the hand sanitizer in her mouth tonight. Only a small amount got onto her tongue; luckily she made a horrible face and after I made her stick out her tongue to wipe any remains off, hopefully she will not want to try that again. Toothpaste is another item not safe around Olivia. She has eaten almost a half tube of hers before and even tried dad's. Luckily, hers states "safe to swallow", but I am not sure they mean half a tube! That is the downside of making things taste good, I guess.

If only Billy Mays were still alive, we could launch a product...just another of those missed opportunities!

Never say never...

You know the thing you are always like "I would never let my child do that!"? Don't be so quick to say that. When you have a child, you bend more...then you have another child and you almost break, lol! You find yourself doing what it takes to complete another task.

Tonight, for example, we attended Member Night at the Zoo. We walk in and kids are everywhere in bathing suits swimming in the river walk and fountains. Of course, Olivia says, "I want to swim, too." Needless to say, mommy does not have a swimsuit for her little darling. So, we proceed to do other things with the promise that she can take off her shoes/socks to wade in the water as we leave.

Mommy sits to feed Kayla, Daddy takes O to the water. Next steps are sketchy, but they go something like daddy gets in the water with O, then proceeds to take a phone call, and by the time we are ready to load up, Olivia is completely soaked! When we arrive at the car, the only choice I have is to strip by child down and have her ride home unclothed (yes, stark naked) covered with a blanket. I am all the while thinking "what if we for some reason were to be pulled over and have to answer to the cops why our 3 year old is naked." The cop would have probably never understood, unless he/she had kids:)

Journey...

I once read something that said... "you are the author of your own story." That has always stuck with me. So, what time is better than the present to start writing some of it down. Writing, to me, has always been somewhat therapeutic. Believe me, there is no time more so than now, that I can use some intervention!

When thinking of my life as a journey, the word "incredible" came to mind. There were lots of other words as well...crazy, hectic, mundane, and several unmentionable choice words we all feel at times, but sticking to the positive is my new mantra, so I went with incredible. Being a mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend, cousin, niece, aunt, granddaughter, employee, and many more things depending on the day or occasion, I am often pulled in many directions. Sometimes that is overwhelming, but when I stop and think about how blessed I am it is truly incredible. I have parents to bother me, a brother to annoy me, children to depend on me, a husband to re-direct me (lovingly), friends to pull on me for time/advice; I have a house to worry about cleaning, a job to sometimes stress me...and so on. There are just so many people in life searching, needing, wanting, deserving, and when I think about my life, it is incredible:) Not that there isn't more I want to see, accomplish, learn, and give, but I want to start appreciating more what I have, because it is so much!