Then its off to Florida for some Aunt Deeb, Uncle Andy, and a much needed bonding time with Taylor, Bethany, Grace, and lil Jillian.
Coco Beach
Then......I'm dropping off the kids with Tony. They are going on a camping trip.
I'M GOING TO ALERT!!!!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Things that will be comin!
In June me and the kiddos are headed to "Sweet Home Alabama" for some granpa Tom time...aka fishing, getting filthy dirty, playing the fields of fresh produce, and maybe some target practice! Seeing aunt VeeVee, aunti Wooz-Tater, Brandi, and Dustin.
Then its off to Florida for some Aunt Deeb, Uncle Andy, and a much needed bonding time with Taylor, Bethany, Grace, and lil Jillian.
Coco Beach
Then......I'm dropping off the kids with Tony. They are going on a camping trip.
I'M GOING TO ALERT!!!!
Then its off to Florida for some Aunt Deeb, Uncle Andy, and a much needed bonding time with Taylor, Bethany, Grace, and lil Jillian.
Coco Beach
Then......I'm dropping off the kids with Tony. They are going on a camping trip.
I'M GOING TO ALERT!!!!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Random Moments
It's random moments that sneak up on you that remind you that something is missing. I know this is my first post in what feels like forever, but to be honest things have just been nuts. I should warn you this is going to be personal and transparent.
Back to random moments.
Yesterday as I was going through my mental list of things I need for my trip home to Alabama. Then before I knew it I was sitting in my rocking chair in my kitchen sobbing. It was the first time I had cried, like seriously cried about a loss that hit my family like a devastating tornado. They always warn you about the stages of grief, it comes in waves, it will wash over you, it will strip you of your strength, anger, ect. They never tell you the stages come when your not ready, when your guard is down. Being the guarded person that I am, I kept the showing my grief to a minim...or maybe it was because I was so busy trying to be strong for my husband and our two beautiful children.
On April 21st Tony's dad, my Poppa Bear, the Peepaw, the loving husband, the kind of daddy a child dreams of having lost his battle with pancreatic cancer.
For days I sat and wondered how Tony was going to be, how he was going to recover from losing his daddy. The man that from day one carried him in a back pack on hunting trips until he was too big for the pack. The man that gave him his first beer, taught him how to use an ax, shoot a gun, how to start the perfect camp fire, the man that taught my husband how to be a man.
For weeks leading up to the end I laid in bed worrying about Avery and Paiden, their Peepaw was always at soccer, drove them to school while I was mission trips, that had a running "What kind of bird is that?" list at the cottage with Avery, Paiden's digging for cow heads buddy. How HOW HOW were they going to recover?
I would have conversations with God pleading for Ron's life on my way home from work. I knew it was coming as I was kneeling in my flower beds Paiden was sitting next t me and said "last night I had a dream that Peepaw was all better mommy, he's going to be all better when he gets to heaven". With in days it was over.
I thought I was going to be fine, and then yesterday happened.
When you fill out your passport information you are required to give the contact information for someone you would never travel with. This is the person they (the authorities) notify if something happens to you while traveling. Ron was my person. I remember the day I asked him. It was in the drive shed over a beer and ribs i was plucking off the BBQ when his back was turned. I opened up my passport and saw his name written in ink...
Back to random moments.
Yesterday as I was going through my mental list of things I need for my trip home to Alabama. Then before I knew it I was sitting in my rocking chair in my kitchen sobbing. It was the first time I had cried, like seriously cried about a loss that hit my family like a devastating tornado. They always warn you about the stages of grief, it comes in waves, it will wash over you, it will strip you of your strength, anger, ect. They never tell you the stages come when your not ready, when your guard is down. Being the guarded person that I am, I kept the showing my grief to a minim...or maybe it was because I was so busy trying to be strong for my husband and our two beautiful children.
On April 21st Tony's dad, my Poppa Bear, the Peepaw, the loving husband, the kind of daddy a child dreams of having lost his battle with pancreatic cancer.
For days I sat and wondered how Tony was going to be, how he was going to recover from losing his daddy. The man that from day one carried him in a back pack on hunting trips until he was too big for the pack. The man that gave him his first beer, taught him how to use an ax, shoot a gun, how to start the perfect camp fire, the man that taught my husband how to be a man.
For weeks leading up to the end I laid in bed worrying about Avery and Paiden, their Peepaw was always at soccer, drove them to school while I was mission trips, that had a running "What kind of bird is that?" list at the cottage with Avery, Paiden's digging for cow heads buddy. How HOW HOW were they going to recover?
I would have conversations with God pleading for Ron's life on my way home from work. I knew it was coming as I was kneeling in my flower beds Paiden was sitting next t me and said "last night I had a dream that Peepaw was all better mommy, he's going to be all better when he gets to heaven". With in days it was over.
I thought I was going to be fine, and then yesterday happened.
When you fill out your passport information you are required to give the contact information for someone you would never travel with. This is the person they (the authorities) notify if something happens to you while traveling. Ron was my person. I remember the day I asked him. It was in the drive shed over a beer and ribs i was plucking off the BBQ when his back was turned. I opened up my passport and saw his name written in ink...
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The good the bad the ugly
Christmas bring out all of these things are more in me. Like so many other posts I believe it is my duty to be real, transparent, I don't play pretend well and I'm not going to now.
I love Christmas for so many reasons. Giving praise and sing songs of thanks to our Holy Father for his son who offered his life so that we may live with grace and freedom. For he is the reason for this season (teehee i'm a poet...haha) ok i'm gonna get back to the subject. Without Jesus we would have no reason to even have Christmas, December 25th would just be another day. We give presents as maybe a reminder that its better to give then to receive. Coz really God gave right? We had nothing to give Him that He didn't already have. I'm not talking about our love and devotion, nor giving Him our hearts. I'm just saying He has never asked for us to give Him a new toy or IPOD. This is the time of the year where I'm physically blown away by God's hugs believe me after working 96 hours this week, it's only God's strength that keeps me going.
The bad part about this time of the year....I get a bit ugly ok I'll be honest I get REALLY ugly. I guess exhaustion takes over my body, heart, and mind. I take everything personally. I get so home sick that I become bitter. I hate that I will spend another Christmas with out my parents, sister and her wonderful loud house. I loath that fact that I have never ever EVER had a big loud family holiday. I squirm that my in laws are not big "yay it's Christmas people", and they never have been.
Then the overly controlling part that insets that the kids get what they asked for from Santa is under that tree even if I have to sit on the floor drinking coffee at midnight waiting for the stock personnel to unload the truck (yes, I got that Moxie doll named Avery and I only had to stay at Wal-Mart three nights to get it. I screamed like Avery will on Christmas morning after I paid for it too.)To be honest again, I do love that I am that type of mom, I love giving to my children, they give me the kisses and prayers that make me smile even on my darkest days, and if a Moxie doll is what will make Avery smile...I would go back to Wal-Mart again tonight and wait for the trucks to unload again.
I love that by living in Canada I get to have the white Christmas I dreamed about as a child. I love that my husband is strong enough to deal with my emotional roller coaster. My heart bursts with pride that God blessed me with amazing children. But there is such an ugly part of me that longs to be home. I want to laugh at the loudness of my children playing with my sisters kids. I wanna see my daddy's face when he watches for the first time; his grandchildren opening up their gifts on Christmas morning. I wanna eat my Mommy's pancakes with with loud "can you pass the butter" yells from across the table.
But being the woman God made me to be, I will praise and rejoice because I know in my heart that when you are faithful with the things God gives you...He will bless you with more, when He knows you're ready.
I love Christmas for so many reasons. Giving praise and sing songs of thanks to our Holy Father for his son who offered his life so that we may live with grace and freedom. For he is the reason for this season (teehee i'm a poet...haha) ok i'm gonna get back to the subject. Without Jesus we would have no reason to even have Christmas, December 25th would just be another day. We give presents as maybe a reminder that its better to give then to receive. Coz really God gave right? We had nothing to give Him that He didn't already have. I'm not talking about our love and devotion, nor giving Him our hearts. I'm just saying He has never asked for us to give Him a new toy or IPOD. This is the time of the year where I'm physically blown away by God's hugs believe me after working 96 hours this week, it's only God's strength that keeps me going.
The bad part about this time of the year....I get a bit ugly ok I'll be honest I get REALLY ugly. I guess exhaustion takes over my body, heart, and mind. I take everything personally. I get so home sick that I become bitter. I hate that I will spend another Christmas with out my parents, sister and her wonderful loud house. I loath that fact that I have never ever EVER had a big loud family holiday. I squirm that my in laws are not big "yay it's Christmas people", and they never have been.
Then the overly controlling part that insets that the kids get what they asked for from Santa is under that tree even if I have to sit on the floor drinking coffee at midnight waiting for the stock personnel to unload the truck (yes, I got that Moxie doll named Avery and I only had to stay at Wal-Mart three nights to get it. I screamed like Avery will on Christmas morning after I paid for it too.)To be honest again, I do love that I am that type of mom, I love giving to my children, they give me the kisses and prayers that make me smile even on my darkest days, and if a Moxie doll is what will make Avery smile...I would go back to Wal-Mart again tonight and wait for the trucks to unload again.
I love that by living in Canada I get to have the white Christmas I dreamed about as a child. I love that my husband is strong enough to deal with my emotional roller coaster. My heart bursts with pride that God blessed me with amazing children. But there is such an ugly part of me that longs to be home. I want to laugh at the loudness of my children playing with my sisters kids. I wanna see my daddy's face when he watches for the first time; his grandchildren opening up their gifts on Christmas morning. I wanna eat my Mommy's pancakes with with loud "can you pass the butter" yells from across the table.
But being the woman God made me to be, I will praise and rejoice because I know in my heart that when you are faithful with the things God gives you...He will bless you with more, when He knows you're ready.
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