I could use a great many wordy words here, but somehow I think you already have your answer…
Do I love my job? All you have to do is glance in the general direction of my Lobby to glean your answer.
Here, let me count the ways for you to see just how much I do, in fact, love every part of what I do…
I’ll leave you to it then… let me know if you believe that I love what I do!
Here, have a cookie…
The most precious time in my journey, hands down, was having and raising my three daughters when they were babies!
Don’t get me wrong, I carry their older years in my heart as well, but the baby phase was the most difficult to leave behind.
The doctors said I would never conceive … and if I did, I would not be able to carry a baby to full term, due to my medical history. I had a great many difficulties in my young life, of which, now is not the time or place to go into in any great detail. I will simply say that babies were not supposed to be in my future!
I became pregnant 8 times, losing 5 in order to have the three that I did carry to full term. The sicker I was, the better, because I knew my body was holding on to the pregnancy. I relished every bit of morning sickness, every stretch mark, crazy cravings and chubby pounds I gained.
My first daughter didn’t want to exit the building, forcing the doctor to induce my labor 2 full weeks after my due date… she is my stubborn Drama Queen, to this day!
My second daughter and I both nearly died in childbirth, as my placenta ruptured prematurely, causing an emergency Caesarian section. She was born 2 weeks early and still weighed in at 8 lbs. 6 oz. when she arrived. She was a very fussy baby, being dubbed Kaitlungs… though, to this day, she’s the quietest and most reserved daughter of all three!
My third daughter was the easiest pregnancy, easiest delivery, and tiniest of the three… born 2 weeks early and weighing in at a solid 8 lbs. She literally shot out and landed in my doctors arms, being dubbed the surfing baby! She is most like me, of all my girls… just as strong minded, sassy and bright!
It was after her delivery that my doctor said, no more pregnancies … the risk was just too great for me to continue having babies. Thus, my season of bearing children had finally come to an end.
You may scoff, but I miss every detail of those years… every sleepless night, every tantrum, every band-aid handed out! I miss nursing my babies, changing their diapers, cuddling and rocking them gently, while they slept in my arms.
If I could, I would have bottled up and saved the smell of their breath, their skin… their hair!
If only I had made recordings of their laughter, cries, shouts, whispers and bickering… oh well, no more woulda coulda shoulda, in that regard!
I did make journals for each of them, with letters and stories of things they did and said, that I have saved all these years… I tried so hard to plan ahead, knowing that memories fade and things can so easily be forgotten over time.
Thank goodness I did that, because even if I had to say goodbye to that phase, I can easily go back through those books and memories, remembering and cherishing them over and over. Who knows, maybe one day my daughters will want those books to read with their children… maybe not. I’m still glad I dreamt of them, birthed them, raised them, and wrote things down for them… that way it’s not really goodbye to that phase, is it? My blood runs through their veins… they will always be my babies… and I will forever be their mother!
Here, I decided on pastries this morning…
Mary Poppins… Definitely!
I don’t desire to actually look like Mary Poppins, nor am I dreaming of being a Nanny to any child in particular.
To be the woman who could travel by umbrella, I could go anywhere… but that’s not it!
To be able to pop in and out of paintings, allowing me to travel through space and time to visit places I would otherwise never visit… nope, not that either!
For just one day, I would absolutely love to be Mary Poppins, in order to use her magical bag! You know, that carpet bag that could pull out any sort of useful or magical item I might need at the moment. The things I could do with that bag, even if it were only for the time stipulated by the daily prompt.
Just within walking distance of my RV, there are so many things I could use that bag for… like feeding the homeless I see walking around, or going door to door looking for things to hand people, hoping to lighten their burdens and brighten their day. The bag could house money, food, clothes, toys, tools, and/or vitamins and medicines they might not be able to locate.
But it’s more than just using the bag for things… no no… it is the freedom to give, that the bag offers! You see, Mary Poppins took the bag with her everywhere she went. Whatever was inside the bag needed to be taken to where it belonged. Mary Poppins never sent things in her bag through the mail… she always did the foot work herself… or the umbrella travel… or the horse racing… or the tea time on the ceiling… see?
I don’t need Mary Poppins magical loving heart, as I’ve got a real one that offers its own sort of magic… I just need the bag for the day.
Here, have some Mary Poppins style treats…
As a parent, we all know that when your kids are too quiet, it never bodes well! When it gets silent… we usually go looking for the noise makers that are now unusually silent!
Not my parents… no no… somehow, they were never really concerned about where we were, or what we were doing. Due to this lack of supervision, we tended to get into trouble. I told a story once about how we let nearly 2 dozen baby mice loose in the house by accident, only to have my mother discover the mass graveyard in between the cushions of her favorite couch, some months later!
There was also the time when I was riding on the back of my brothers bike and he nearly decapitated me while trying to cut through a trailer park that had one of those steel cords strung across the driveway! Try explaining that mark across my throat to my parents… there aren’t many believable stories to cover over what looked like a noose burn around my neck.
Then there was the time we tied helium balloons around our cats tails and they tore through the house in terror, knocking over anything that wasn’t nailed down… that was a crazy mess! We hadn’t thought about how hard it would be, recapturing the the little fur balls, in order to remove said balloons.
Anyway, I think you can see a picture developing in your minds, as to how unsupervised we were, thereby providing ample time for our latest DIY project!
My brother was about 9 and I was barely 7, when we came up with an idea to build a fort, but not just any fort… we needed a secret one! The problem lay in the fact that we lived in Eastern Oregon… hot dry and flat… no trees for forts! What’s a kid going to do? If we can’t build up, then the logical thing to do is to build down… but where? We decided among ourselves that the back yard seemed the best place to work, because no one went back there and it was easy to hear my mom call us in for dinner.
At first it was easy to cover the hole with the grass we had cut out for digging down underground, but eventually we had to steal a plank of wood to lay over the hole, covering that with the grass. We had nearly dug up against the foundation of the house, before anyone noticed the mounds of dirt we had been throwing willy nilly over the backyard fence. Yup! Got our hind ends paddled and the hole was caved in, refilled and grass restored.
If you’re thinking that this was the end of our DIY ing… think again, my friends! All true DIY ers know the golden rule… if you fail the first time… try try again! And again, we did! We simply moved our construction zone further out into the desert behind the neighborhood we lived in at the time.
We first dug down nearly 6 feet, carving out steps for us to climb up and down out of the hole. From there we dug straight in nearly 15 feet before carving out a hobbit house sized hole under the desert above us. We took the dirt from the hole and spread it all over the area nearby, so that there would be no mounds to be seen by spying eyes… we had learned from our first attempt. We spent nearly a week sneaking blankets, toys, food and water from our home, to stock our new underground bunker.
It wasn’t until my brother got a spanking for stealing candy out of the cupboard, and angrily running away to hide in the tunnel, that anybody had any reason to go looking for our hideaway. All the grown-ups cornered me and questioned if I knew where he was, scaring me into giving up the coordinates of our outlaw camp… the gig was up!
It was a good thing that we were in the heat of summer, when there was no rain to fill the hole and drown us, or worse yet, cave in on us. I will never forget the look of shock, surprise, fear, and awe on my stepdads face as he climbed 6 feet down into our DIY creation. He was both impressed and terrified at what we’d managed to do without accidentally killing ourselves. But he also never trusted us again, regularly patrolling the property and surrounding areas, and locking up all of his tools!
What can I say… if I’m gonna DIY something, I say, “go big or go home!”
Here, have a cookie…
Words can be weapons, same as guns!
When will we learn that words, just like guns, can be use for good and evil alike?
You can remove all weapons from the hands of a man, but if his heart is still filled with wickedness, he will find a different weapon to replace the one taken!
If you’ve unsuccessfully changed the heart of a man, it won’t matter what words, weapons, or any other tools you give or remove from him… the heart is what determines how the tool is used!
Last I checked… only God can change the heart of a man… so there is no word worth removing, in my humble opinion.
Here, have a cookie, but you might want to pick off the cartridges first…
What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?
Seeing as how I never know what challenges I’ll face from one day to the next, it seems ludicrous to attemp at choosing a random difficult task or situation six months out!
Why on earth would I intentionally set myself up for six months of panic attacks, sleepless nights, and/or constant stress stomach aches?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not being a chicken about things… I just like to live one day at a time, that’s all! I love using the KISS principle… Keep it Simple Stupid, in regards to my life. When you look it up on Google, it basically says that keeping things as simple as possible ensures the best levels of user acceptance and interaction. This method just makes sense!
Now, I certainly have goals and plans, both short term and long term… but I don’t consider them challenges for myself, as God goes before me and prepares the way with His plans and purposes for my good.
It says in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, ” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”
Why would something six months from now be a challenge for me if God has already taken care of it?
Here, have a muffin…
Between my husband and I, we have raised 6 teenagers… boys and girls! One thing I have learned over the years is that the moment you attempt giving advice, they will bolt like a Ferel animal!
Why? Hormones!
Teenagers are similar in behavior, to a hot blooded Thoroughbred Race Horse… always hungry, mad, excited, horny and quite sweaty! You feed them the best you can, and try to sooth them when they are angry. You try to calm them when they won’t stop bouncing off the walls, and diligently make efforts to coral them from freely using their private parts.
Daily, you make every effort to hose them off before they leave the house… throwing a stick of deodorant in their general direction. Ok, well, a horse may not know how to use a stick of deodorant, but then again, neither do most teenagers. I caught one of my kids using a can of Febreze for body spray… not even kidding!
I will go back even further, into my teenage years, confirming that I myself had intentionally assigned ALL adults with the label of ENEMY #1. Whether it was hormones, a traumatic upbringing or both… I did NOT listen to anyone!
No amount of coercing could entice me to go back and re-experience my teenage years, and quite honestly, kids today look the same as we did back then… hungry, mad, excited, horny and, yes… sweaty!
If I were to do anything for my teenage self… it would be to protect her, shelter her, encourage her, and guide her through my example, instead of my wordy grownup words…
Here, have a cookie…
Though you will find me, most mornings, sipping a steaming cup of coffee… my go to favorite drink is good old fashioned H2O!
My early years found me happily drinking Big Gulp size sugary sodas and/or hot chocolate with scads of baby marshmallows overflowing over the edge of the cup. I know that I drank water by itself sometimes, but mostly it got mixed in with the Kool-aide.
Moving into my teenage years, I, like many teens, began mixing a bit of alcohol into my cocoa. Chocolate was the only thing strong enough to mask the flavor of alcohol, which to me, tasted like aftershave or cologne. Again, I know that I drank water by itself during those years… I just don’t remember.
I grew into an adult, becoming the mom that drove the kids to every bloomin activity they thought up… so, I developed a glass of wine in the shower kind of mini-vacation lifestyle.
I had to drink water more often, to rehydrate, but it still had to have one of those Propel flavor packs mixed in the bottle. Eventually, I moved on from that favorite, due in part, because my kids figured out how to unlock the bathroom door.
I found my perfect storm of a drink, during my kids teen years, when the moms had to begin sneaking alcohol in travel mugs. My girlfriends and I discovered that if you mix Malibu Coconut Rum with Dole’s Orange Pineapple Banana Juice, the kids just thought it smelled fruity.
We called it Fru Fru Juice, when they asked what we were drinking, and then we handed them a Capri Sun. I definitely had to rehydrate from those family camping trips.
Years have come and gone, leaving me a great deal wiser about my need for water, as well as lessening my desire for anything with alcohol in it. Once in a while I might have a drink, but now it just tastes too sweet. I don’t even like pop anymore… just give me a good cup of peppermint tea.
Several years ago I watched this documentary about water, that was extremely interesting. I learned a great deal about how the body processes water, pulling the minerals it needs to replace the ones used up. Did you know that if you drink water that has been distilled, or has too little PH in it, your body will take from your own minerals to try and fix the water you’re trying to put in your body… you actually sacrifice good minerals already in your system to make the water more balanced.
I found this idea so interesting, that I started to drink a 32 oz. bottle of high PH water about once a week, since my drinking water is just out of the tap. Now I am spoiled, because I can fully taste the difference in my water… good water really does have flavor!
These days, you’ll find me drinking either coffee or water, and if I put any flavor in my water it’s going to be my peppermint herbal tea… but mostly, I just like water as, well, water!
Enjoy the coffee, cocoa, fruit, and cookie flavored water…
Babies are soft, warm and cuddly…
Babies give only love
Babies always need us
Babies make us want to be good
Babies draw out our emotions
Babies bring hope for a better future
Babies don’t judge you
Babies don’t withhold their feelings
Babies don’t lie, or cheat, or steal…
Babies are that which we once were
Innocent… Trusting… loving…
If more people still acted like babies, in this regard, maybe I might start choosing a bigger version of my favorite people!
Here, have a teething biscuit…
As the DailyPrompt seems to now think we are all in kintergarten with this question, I am disinclined to aquiess to it’s request. With that being said, I am able to reflect on the shoes I’ve worn over the years.
Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.
I do still have my first pair of baby shoes tucked away in a box…
From baby booties til now, I have moved from sneakers to cowboy boots… back to sneakers… from sneakers to differing ladies fancy shoes… back to sneakers… from sneakers to moccasins… back to sneakers… now resting in a shared sneaker/slipper lifestyle.
I keep em as long as they will hold up, as I am not one to give up on a garment just because it looks a bit faded or worn. Quite honestly, my shoes don’t feel right until after they have been stretched, stained, and well broken in.
My sneakers average a life of about a year, but that’s pushing it… and I usually own twin pairs so they will last longer. I walk alot!
Right now, I own a pair of fluffy slipper shoes that a friend gave me last year. They are stained from my coffee spills, but oh so faithfully comfortable.
There ya have it, folks, more information than you ever wanted or needed to know about the life of my feet…
Here, have a cookie that my feet have NOT been anywhere near, though there have been a few squirrels involved in presenting them…
Journey With Me! 