tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82291176912673451722024-02-07T03:53:31.981-06:00Memory MakerRandom thoughts from a girl trying to be more deliberateMs Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-66537088238479452622015-10-26T19:47:00.003-05:002015-10-26T19:47:33.737-05:00Teaching Outside the Box or err.. Schedule <span style="background-color: lime;"><span style="color: #444444;">Mondays</span></span> in preschool are not always the best. Yes, of course we start out the day with the best intentions and usually LIFE smacks us right in the gut. The kids have missed their friends and everything is on loud and fast mode. It's like they want to catch up all the conversations they didn't have over the weekend. Then there are others who are tired… really.. really tired. Weekends are hard. Running here and there to see family , shop and make memories. No one wants to waste precious time just sitting waiting on a preschooler to take a nap. Yes, Mondays are often hard.<br />
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Today was a different kind of <span style="color: lime;">Monday</span>. <br />
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First lets talk how a preschool classroom is traditionally ran. NORMALLY there is free play time and at some point in the morning a teacher , for sake of ease lets just call her Miss Control Freak from here out, calls everyone to clean up. That takes time. We finally get everything cleaned up and Miss Control Freak calls everyone to circle time. Which, lets be real… rarely is a circle. There are kids on their bellies. There are kid bumping into others. There are kids trying really hard to do criss cross applesauce but their little legs aren't ready for all that twisting. Then, if we are being really real.. someone is picking their nose. So , Miss Control Freak gets everyone to circle and all the miserable children listen. It goes something like this .<br />
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Miss Control Freak: Lets sing a song ! LALALALAL Sit up ! Dont touch your friends hair. Don't play with the blocks. Dont lick his shoe…. LALALLALALALLALA…<br />
Now, I'm gonna read you a book. Ok.. I'll sit here until you are quiet.<br />
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( crickets)<br />
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Now that everyone is ready to listen ( and scared to make a sound ) I will read.<br />
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Once upon a time…… ( What do you THINK is going to happen ? What color is the monkeys shirt ? ) The end.<br />
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" Ok, you guys can go back to playing now. "<br />
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As the children frantically race back to claim the spot Miss Control Freak caused them to lose in the first place by having circle time you hear " No ! I was not finished ! I was in there !"<br />
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Children play and Miss Control Freak calls them down two at a time to do a small group activity at the table.. again causing them to stop all the learning that takes place during play. <br />
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DING DING DING ! Time for a science experience . EVERYONE follow Miss Control Freak !<br />
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It never ends. Miss Control Freak is constantly asking us to stop what we are doing and do what SHE wants us to do.<br />
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Friday as I was cleaning a table one of my really sensitive little boys looked at me and said " Ms. Debbie, why is your face angry?"<br />
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:(<br />
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Really.. do I look angry ? Deep Breath ? Does my face look angry ? Why ? It has not been a bad day..maybe a little hectic. Sigh…..<br />
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If my day is hectic it is my own fault. I am the time keeper. I am the control freak. <br />
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Today is <span style="color: lime;">Monday</span>.<br />
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Today as the children were playing I took the IPOD down and I just sat down and started playing some music. First two children joined me. They just sat around me. By the second song most of the children were with me. They were singing . They were dancing. They were laughing . They were loving. Music. It should be happy and simple. Right ?<br />
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As I realized I had most everyone with me I asked them could I tell them a story. From memory I told them the story of Junior the spider. With a little acting and some flair I was able to keep everyone's attention. It was loverly. <br />
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That went well. I didn't demand or even ask anyone to stop what they were doing and join me. <br />
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As I finished my story I noticed Ms Dallas had joined me. ( Yes, my story telling skills are that good that she wanted to listen too. ) I said " I think Ms Dallas has a cool science experience to show you. She rolled straight into " Little Miss Muffet " and asked the kids did they know what curds and whey was . They replied no. THEN LETS GO FIND OUT !<br />
And they did.<br />
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I know they loved it since later I walked in to find them reenacting the story with friends. Who knew spiders GROWL ! <br />
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Lets try something else. <br />
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Usually when I do a graph or chart something I plan small groups. Today I picked up my marker board and started walking around to each child and asking them " are you afraid of spiders ?" It worked. They continued what they were doing . An added benefit was that not every child had the same answer. See.. when Miss Control Freak does this in a group the kids tend to all say the same thing. It's called preschool peer pressure. <br />
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After graphing , I just set the board up so they could look at it at their leisure.<br />
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Reading still took place. I read them books while they were eating breakfast and lunch. I asked first " May I read you an awesome story I like ?" When a child seemed to wander and was still I would ask could I read them a book. <br />
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My friend didn't ask me today why my face looked angry . I was more relaxed. I know the kids benefit more from uninterrupted play . <br />
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This is what preschool in my world should look like. I think I'll try it again tomorrow. Miss Control Freak just might lose her job.<br />
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<br />Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-47903807621163402732013-02-05T19:45:00.003-06:002013-02-05T19:45:49.866-06:00A 1950's Wife I would love to be a 1950's wife. I know many of my friends , and some that are even very close to me would laugh at the thought of my energy, independence and sassiness rolled into the role of a June Cleaver housewife who stays home and raises children and bakes cookies. <br />
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I have always kind of known this about myself but days like today made me think to myself " BAM , you are SO 1950's wifey material. " ( Ok , maybe you have a hard time picturing June say BAM! but bear with me.)<br />
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Randy and I are rarely ever apart. By rarely I mean... mostly NEVER. He is here to see me at my best and my worse and all the in between. I can never perform miracles in housekeeping or self adornment because he is here . All. The. Time. ( Not complaining... ) Today I came home from a conference at the local school for one of our little girls to find him gone. I have had the flu for the past few days and the front of the house has GONE TO THE DOGS. ( Ok, maybe June wouldn't say that either... ) Randy has tried to help me keep up with laundry ( it was sweet I was about to run out of underwear. ) but the laundry was piled on the couch. There was medicine and snot filled kleenex's everywhere. ( sorry.. ) and mounds of mail and paperwork had taken over the desk yet again. Being the great wife that I am I called him to see where he was and he was at choir practice at church. I wanted to go for a ride with the windows down and suck in the fresh air. I was a little BUMMED at first but then I thought BAM! ( Ugh.. sorry June) I can perform some housecleaning miracles in the next hour and a half and surprise my hubby. It will be as if I just waltzed in from a Boy Scouts meeting and he is coming in from work.<br />
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First I folded all the clothes on the couches and put them away. I stripped the bed and threw the sheets in the washer. I started defrosting the meat for spaghetti which he said he wanted yesterday. STRIP THE BED THAT I SLEPT IN SICK ALL WEEK . I cleaned the table of snot rags and even dusted the top and arranged his music magazines he is reading on the edge with his glasses on top. I vaccuummed the carpet . THE BED SHEETS ARE FINISHED IN THE WASHER! IN THE DRYER THEY GO. I threw the garlic bread in the oven. I took all the medicines out and put them back where they belong. I washed the snack cups from the end of the preschool day. I cleaned some of the papers off the dining room table and arranged the flowers he gave me earlier in the week. I finished the sauce for the spaghetti. THE SHEETS ARE DRY ! PUT THEM BACK ON THE BED! HURRY! As I hear the back door open and Randy comes in I slow my pace and grab a plate to put his dinner on. I sat at the table with him and talked about practice. I am not eating today ( or tomorrow, its a cleanse give me a break) but I sit.. and listen. After Randy finishes eating I dish up the leftovers ( BAM for lunch being ready for tomorrow!) and wash the dishes. <br />
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That was an hour and a half. Pretty good huh ?<br />
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Now we are sitting side by side in the livingroom. He has his earphones on and is listening to something on Youtube and here I sit banging out my thoughts on my lap top. He hasnt noticed all the cleaning I did in the hour and a half he was gone.<br />
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( Oh and I wore a dress today and touched up my makeup before my meeting AND didnt put on a tshirt and sweats to clean. ) <br />
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I did a little research on what a 1950's wife is.<br />
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Excerpt from " HouseKeeping Monthly May 1953 - which was nine months after my husband was born. With my thoughts added in ......<br />
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<ul style="font-family: Verdana, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">
<li>Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have be thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favourite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed. <b>Well, I think I proved that I can do that tonight ! I mean, it was a jar sauce but I was in a hurry. I did sprinkle a little extra garlic in it. </b></li>
<li>Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.<b> I didnt have 15 minutes to refresh after running like a mad lady cleaning up 4 days worth of flu evidence and I dont wear ribbons but I did squirt a little HAPPY cologne on. </b></li>
<li>Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it. <b>A little more interesting GIVE ME A BREAK JUNE.. His day wasnt boring and geez.... I am not an babysitter</b>. </li>
<li>Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Run a dustcloth over the tables. <b>BAM! </b></li>
<li>Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction. <b>Immense personal satisfaction ? I am trying to feel it as he listens to his phone with his earphones on and ignores my now relaxed self. Maybe I am missing something here. Where is that ribbon ? </b></li>
<li>Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet. <b>CHILDREN Were QUIET ! There are NONE ! And well. I did have 80s music blaring. Does that count </b>? </li>
<li>Be happy to see him. <b>I was.... so I could STOP and he looked pretty cute in his little beebop hat .</b></li>
<li>Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him. <b>CHECK !</b></li>
<li>Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. <b>I tried.. </b></li>
<li>Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax. <b>Oh Lordy June.. this is getting DEEP. </b></li>
<li>Your goal: To try and make sure your home is a place of peace, order, and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.<b> He looks renewed.. what do you think ? SEE picture above. </b></li>
<li>Don’t greet him with complaints and problems<b>. Check ! </b></li>
<li>Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.</li>
<li><b>See Above picture...</b></li>
<li>Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice. <b>Well... I have had the flu and my voice is pretty low right now I dont know if one would call it soothing.... I put a new pillow case on his pillow and but shoes, well, I have to draw the line somewhere...</b> </li>
<li>Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him. <b>Yep. Ahem...</b></li>
<li>A good wife always knows her place.<b>.</b></li>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">So dont you agree ? I would make a GREAT 1950's wife. </span></span></div>
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<br />Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-27054456377762898202013-01-30T22:15:00.000-06:002013-01-30T22:15:00.680-06:00Thinking of Mom Someone wrote me tonight and asked me for the link to moms memorial video that I made for her service. I found it and of course I had to watch it again.. and cry.<br />
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As I watched the video I was reminded how strong a woman my mother was. Even days that the ground was covered in ice and snow and we were on our way home from another chemo treatment she walked on her own as though she hadnt a care in the world and no burden was too heavy for her. <br />
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Sometimes I think about my mom and all the things I want to tell her.<br />
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I want to tell her that Danielle is starting over her life and is happy now.<br />
I want to tell her that Addam is engaged to Josie .<br />
I want to tell her how funny Geneviette is and what a joy she is to our life.<br />
I want to tell her that I stopped to see Aunt Gerl and Uncle Ray and that Aunt Gerl looks more like grandma every day.<br />
I want to tell her that Sport is so happy in his new home with us and that Randy spoils him more than dad ever thought about it.<br />
I want to tell her that Randy is playing BASS at our church now.. a BAPTIST church.<br />
I want to tell her that I read her bible and see her notes in the side bar and I am reminded of how important she wanted us to know that having a relationship with Jesus Christ is.<br />
I want to tell her that the plum tree I brought from the house on 9th street is growing so tall.<br />
I want to tell her that her grandkids are all doing well now.<br />
I want to tell her that I am happy and content.<br />
I want to tell her how very much I miss her and that I think she was a great mother.<br />
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There are some things I want to ask her too.<br />
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How old was she when she had to start coloring her hair ?<br />
Why didnt she tell me that having grown children hurts so much more than having young children?<br />
How did her faith grow so strong ?<br />
How did she keep smiling ?<br />
Did she ever get tired ?<br />
Would she sing with me one more time... I wont walk off the stage...<br />
Why didnt you tell me that growing older had problems , like that whole coughing.. tinkle problem ?<br />
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There are so many things... I wish I could say.<br />
I miss mom.<br />
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<br />Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-7833692687229439612013-01-02T13:38:00.000-06:002013-01-02T13:38:14.430-06:00Oh Christmas Tree <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
As I took down the Christmas tree last night I was reminded what precious memories our tree holds. We have a tradition each year to add an ornament that signifies something important that happened in our life that year. The tree also has homemade ornaments that children have made us or that Geneviette has made. It used to be covered in ornaments that Addam and Danielle made but when they got married I passed those ornaments on to them to use on their own trees. In retrospect, I wish I would have kept them. Selfish maybe... but when I put the tree up I miss seeing their tiny handprints or handiwork on the tree. Last night when I took it down I snapped a few pictures of some of the ornaments .</div>
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This first one is one that Danielle and my mom made. There were more and I think Danielle has one for her tree. Such precious memories. </div>
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In 2002 Randy and I got married and this was the ornament to signify that !<br />
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This tree is an ornament that Geneviette made when she was three and in our preschool.<br />
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We used to have a lab mix named Sway. We all loved Sway so much. This ornament has been broken and I almost threw it away but then I rationalized. Sway was in an accident with a car and lost one of her legs . She ran great for a three legged dog. So.. this broken ornament kinda fits now.<br />
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Randy and I have made two trips to Nashville. He loves it there. I love.. that he loves it there. <br />
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Randy's Aunt Steele does a lot of little hand work and beading. She made this stuffed star for our tree . You cant see the beading but there is a lot . She did a great job !<br />
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My first job was when I was 16 and worked at McDonalds. This ornament is 30 years old. Wow...<br />
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Randy lost his son in a car accident in the year 2001 . Scott was 21. We have this little ornament he made hanging on our tree to remember him.<br />
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I have been to Hawaii three times. Once was to visit Addam and G. We went to a children's museum that had a fabulous fairy tale exhibit with Cinderella's carriage. This was G's ornament that year. Addam also bought a motor cycle and started riding and Randy and I went to Texas .<br />
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I love monkeys.. I especially love monkeys in clothes. I really love monkeys in clothes on ornaments given to me. It's she precious !<br />
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We have lots of teacher type ornaments on the tree that have been given to us.<br />
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Of course there was a guitar to symbolize Randys hobby. This was actually in a shadow box when we got married and I took it out for the tree.<br />
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This is little G's handprint when she was three ... precious huh ?<br />
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There are so many more on the tree with stories behind most. I have added a few blingy ornaments that add color and pizzaz but those tell a story too right ? <br />
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Christmas is a wonderful time around here. As I take each piece of decoration out I am reminded of when I got it. Why I got it and who was with me. Christmas brings a special kind of memories.Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-12464340577939482402013-01-01T13:33:00.001-06:002013-01-01T13:33:25.445-06:002013 is here. The Mayans Were WrongIf you know me very well you know how ridiculous that whole blog title is.<br />
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I don't worry much about tomorrow. I never have been much of a worrier .<br />
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Ive never really considered myself a woman of strong faith . I mean , when I compare myself to people like my mom, my aunts and ladies from church like Mrs. Pennington I feel so inadequate and so NOT a vessel ready to serve. It isn't my heart that feels different , though who knows what is in another persons heart, it is all the wrappings of my heart, of me. I wear clothes that are not always modest. I am not meek ( at all ) and most people would probably think I am not humble. I don't lift my arms in praise in a service but little tear drops escape my eyes when I sing. It is like I am at the throne of God and it is too personal to speak or sing, or lift my arms .. and sometimes even hard to breathe.<br />
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I do have faith, it just looks different than most. My faith helps me to smile when I am hurting because I know who holds tomorrow. My faith helps me keep my head up when things go wrong because I know God has a bigger plan for my life. My faith helps my love others because he loves me - even with all my worldly flaws. <u> So who am I to judge ? </u><br />
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A friend posted on facebook that she doesn't do New Years resolutions. She picks a character trait that she needs to work on , a weakness ... and focuses on that for the year. There is no deadline. You don't have to spend more money on yet another gym . You don't have to radically change your routine. All you have to do is change your thought process and be more intentional about your life and the choices you make as you open your mouth or do something. She chose non-assuming. She wants to be less assuming about herself and other people. What a wonderful thing to be. Much of life's problems happen when we assume what someone is thinking or what they will do. Disappointments usually follow assumptions.<br />
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When I started thinking about what character trait I would like to work on I wanted to arm myself with many choices so I googled ( of course ) character traits. Some of the traits I found that were interesting to me were not really things I could / or should work on . They just made me giggle.<br />
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Dainty - I would LOVE to become more dainty.<br />
Bossy - Randy says dont worry I already have that one down pat.<br />
Awkward - Well... that sounds fun . <br />
Sarcastic - Who me ?<br />
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What I needed to focus on is really very evident. I just cant put my finger on the word for it. I am not a private person at all. I need to be more private. My character trait for 2013 will be unobtrusive. This doesn't mean that I wont post about school and the awesome things we do. I hope those post encourage others to go the extra step when they are teaching small children. What the world doesnt need to see is what I cook. What I think. What I wear. What song I am singing. I mean, why post that stuff anyway ? I really never have the intentions of trying to make anyone feel like my life is better than their life or that I am some amazing person. I am not.<br />
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<tr><td nowrap="" style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" valign="top"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Main</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Entry:</span></span></td><td style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="Headserp ocfs" id="Headserp" style="border-top-color: initial; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: initial; color: #666666; display: inline-block; font-family: Arial; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: relative; width: 330px;">
<span class="queryn" id="queryn" style="bottom: 5px; color: black; display: inline; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; position: relative;"><b>unobtrusive</b></span> <span class="aud" id="aud" style="padding-left: 8px;" title="Listen to the pronunciation of unobtrusive"><span audio="http://static.sfdict.com/dictstatic/dictionary/audio/luna/U01/U0107700.mp3" default="http://dictionary.reference.com/audio.html/lunaWAV/U01/U0107700"><embed align="texttop" flashvars="soundUrl=http://static.sfdict.com/dictstatic/dictionary/audio/luna/U01/U0107700.mp3" height="15" id="speaker" loop="false" menu="false" quality="high" salign="t" src="http://static.sfdict.com/dictstatic/d/g/speaker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="17" wmode="transparent"></embed></span></span></div>
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<tr><td nowrap="" style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" valign="top"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Part</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Speech:</span></span></td><td style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><i><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default; position: static;">adjective</span></span></i></td></tr>
<tr><td style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" valign="top"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Definition:</span></span></td><td style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default; position: static;">keeping</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">low</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">profile</span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" valign="top"><span id="hotword" style="position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">Synonyms:</span></span></td><td style="color: #4d4e51; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/humble" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">humble</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/inconspicuous" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">inconspicuous</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">low-key,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">low-profile,</span></span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/meek" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">meek</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/modest" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">modest</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/quiet" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">quiet</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/reserved" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">reserved</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/restrained" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">restrained</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">,<span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">retiring,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default; position: static;">self-effacing,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">soft-pedaled,</span> </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/subdued" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">subdued</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">,</span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/tasteful" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">tasteful</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/unassuming" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">unassuming</a><span id="hotword" style="position: static;">, <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="position: static;">unnoticeable,</span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default; position: static;">unostentatious,</span> </span><a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/unpretentious" rel="nofollow" style="color: #4d4e51; text-decoration: underline;">unpretentious</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><b>What a challenge . This will not be easy for me.</b></span></td></tr>
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Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com123tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-19250678020790178602012-05-17T21:52:00.001-05:002012-05-17T21:52:38.204-05:00Route 66 TourAfter our preschool program Randy and I took off for our monthly date . This one was a tour of Route 66. We jumped in the car , which was already packed and headed to Route 66. <br />
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Our first stop was in Vinita Ok. There we found SummerSide Winery. We looked around and had a quiet lunch . I had a delicious chicken salad sandwich and pretzels. There is something very classy and calm about eating at a winery. What did we have to drink ? I had water and Randy had diet coke. He said it was flat. My guess ? It had been there a while. Who goes to a winery for lunch and orders diet coke ?<br />
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The next stop was looking at some GIANT totem poles . There is some history there but to be honest I am not much of a history buff. It was all put together by a retired art teacher. All I could think was.... my family makes fun of my eclectic nature. Who knows.. one day maybe my backyard will be visited by random people out on a thrill ride . This was in Foyil Ok.<br />
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Jonah , you know - from the Bible. He aint got nothing on us. We went in the belly of a big blue whale and lived to tell about it too. Story is that a man made this fun water side whale for his grandkids. It has slides and diving boards. The water is not anything anyone would want to swim in now but it was a fun stop. - Catossa Ok.<br />
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Our next stop was Arcadia Ok at POPS. Pops is the home to over 600 different labels of soda pop. It is also the home of a 66 foot high LED lit Soda Pop Bottle . We wanted to wait and eat in OKC but it was getting late so we decided to eat here. SO glad we did ! I ordered a regular cheeseburger and it was AMAZING. I have been off my diet for a while ( my tight clothes are evidence of that . ) but I rarely just blatantly order things like cheeseburgers. MAYBE any cheeseburger would have been amazing but for that night, I believe it had to be the best in the world. THEN Randy ordered Root Bear Bread Pudding. I am not a big fan of bread pudding but if Randy wanted to drive to Arcadia just to order this.. I would be in the car waiting and seat belted in without a thought. Some of the souvineers I bought from there were BACON soda and so DUH. Funny and interesting place . <br />
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We spent the night in OKC . Dino the famous piano player was checking in at the same time. Randy didnt recognize him at first and mistook him for the valet. oops. :)<br />
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If you wondered this isnt a Motel 6 and yes, I picked it out. :) </div>
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On the way home we took a little jog off the path to Muskogee Ok home of the Renaissance fair. That was a real treat. Addam, Josie and Geneviette met us there. The music was breathtaking and relaxing and calming and invigorating - yes - all at one time . I finally rode a horse drawn carriage . Instead of riding under the moon light with romantic music softly playing it was through a street where jestors and " freakish" type people were roaming. Pardon me for the use of the term freak but I dont know how else to describe that costumes that we saw. They ranged from a full cat, to a pirate to a devilish looking team with knots, horn-type nodules sticking out of their forehead. AND.. there were MANY MANY.. that had much more revealing cleavage than I had or have ever had. <br />
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It was one of the best weekends we have had in a long time. This was date # 5 in my year of dates planned by Randy. We got our kicks on Route 66.<br />
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<br />Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-15728552841290907972012-05-17T21:29:00.001-05:002012-05-17T21:29:23.679-05:00Where the Wild Things AreMy favorite book as a child was " Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak . He wrote it in 1963 . I was born three years later in 1966. I can remember really loving this book in the 5th grade ( I think) . Why I think it was the 5th grade is I remember the library was upstairs and very dark and Woodruff school is the only school ( other than my highschool ) that had two stories. The librarian even had a little film strip of the book. I remember sitting on the floor in a small group of kinds and watching the story strip. The library had a distinct smell - a cross between old books and the yummy cinnamon rolls cooking in the cafeteria downstairs. <br />
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What I find alarming is this is listed as a picture book and just the fact that I discovered it in the 5th grade really points out how much more advanced readers children are today. If I handed a 5th grader a book about a boys imaginary friends and it was a picture book he would probably laugh out loud. Another interesting note about the book is for a while the book was banned from libraries for being TOO SCARY.<br />
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If you've never heard the story , here is a description of the book from Amazon.</div>
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The Story</h3>
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However, after more the 50 years, what keeps <i style="font-style: italic;">Where the Wild Things Are</i> popular is not the impact of the book on the field of children's literature, it is the impact of the story and the illustrations on young readers. The plot of the book is based on the fantasy (and real) consequences of a little boy's mischief. One night Max dresses up in his wolf suit and does all kinds of things he shouldn't, like chasing the dog with a fork. His mother scolds him and calls him a "WILD THING!" Max is so mad he shouts back, "I'LL EAT YOU UP!" As a result, his mother sends him to his bedroom without any supper.<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: inherit;">
Max's imagination transforms his bedroom into an extraordinary setting, with a forest and an ocean and a little boat that Max sails in until he comes to a land full of "wild things." Although they look and sound very fierce, Max is able to tame them with a single glance. They all realize Max is "..the most wild thing of all" and make him their king. Max and the wild things have a fine time creating a rumpus until Max begins to want to be "…where someone loved him best of all." Max's fantasy ends when he smells his dinner. Despite the wild things' protests, Max sails back to his own room where he finds his supper waiting for him.</div>
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Im not sure why I love this story so much. The little boy in the story is dealing with all the feelings that kids do even today. Being rebellious and angry, wanting to be in control yet not having the emotional tools to do it. When all is said and done he just wants to be loved by someone that loves him back. </div>
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There is probably an adult life lesson in there somewhere. </div>
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I like to be in control.</div>
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I do get a little rebellious at time.</div>
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And.. I like to be loved and the comfort of knowing that no matter what I will always be loved.</div>
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And, coming home and finding supper waiting isnt too bad either. </div>
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I havent seem the movie but I think I will put that on my bucket list for the summer - watch " Where the Wild Things Are" </div>
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</div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-53026956091118786192012-03-29T16:58:00.003-05:002012-03-29T17:22:13.849-05:00The BookLast week I went to a site and had this blog printed in a hard back book from beginning up to the last entry before this one. When the book came in I cried. What I held in my hands could not be replaced or even a value put on it. It was my thoughts, my dreams, my laughter and my tears. Many years ago I gave my mom and dad a book to record their memories. They never finished it but the parts they did write in I love. You know what I mean - one of those books that ask you questions to prompt your memory and open discussions that you probably otherwise wouldn't have had ? The only problem with mom and dads book is that sometimes it is a little hard to read their writing. I know mine can be dreadful too. Knowing this, I have decided when my life is a little dull and I have nothing current to write about that is critical or amusing at the least , I will use the questions in the book to blog . Hopefully, it will serve as something for generations long from now to use to know more about me and who I am. <div><br /></div><div>One of the questions that was in that book is " what is the most important thing you have learned?" </div><div><br /></div><div>That is a tough one. I feel I have learned a lot in the 45 years ( I should say 46 since my birthday is next week but I think I will hang on to 45 a little longer.) The most important thing I have learned in my life that seems to come to me time and time again when I need it most is that God has a plan for my life. He knows me and He loves me and will never harm me. Knowing that everything happens for a reason makes even the roughest times bearable. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are still things that have happened in my life that I scratch my head and say " what was the plan?" or "what good came from that?" As I have matured ( don't laugh ) I have realized that not all things will I see " THE END" And also it doesn't mean that every situation will turn out with someone riding off into the sunset on a white horse singing a song or rainbow with unicorns dancing around a pot of gold. </div><div><br /></div><div>What are some of these unanswered questions you ask ? </div><div><br /></div><div>What did my mom and dad die so young ? Sometimes when I see adults out to eat with their mom or dad I get sad and jealous and miss mine. I know they lived a full life . They were ready to meet the Savior, but I wasn't ready to let them go. </div><div><br /></div><div>Why did my first marriage to Addam and Danielle's dad end - isn't marriage for forever ? </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Life is about living in the moment but always being inspired by the past and challenged knowing that our choices affect the future . Notice I said, THE future and not MY future . Life is about more than just me. It is about the people that I love and people that I will never know. That is a pretty big pill to swallow , but I will take it. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-58565542082654907052012-02-16T21:30:00.002-06:002012-02-16T21:55:51.394-06:00The Man I MarriedWhen I met Randy I was 32 and he was 46 . He managed a restaurant and sang the blues. No, I mean really.. really sang the blues. I loved hearing him sing some of his favorites from Keb Mo. I loved it so much in fact that for his first birthday that we celebrated together I treated him to a trip to Nashville to see Keb Mo. Pure Magic.<div><br /></div><div>Randy dressed in khakis and button down shirts pressed and always smelled so good. He wore expensive cologne and his hair was always perfect. When I visited his house there were rare times that candles were not burning and music playing... always the romantic. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we would go to eat it would always be at VERY nice places... even places that didnt have the prices listed on the menu and waiters stood around to jump at your every whim. </div><div><br /></div><div>Do you have a good picture of who Randy was when I met him ? </div><div><br /></div><div>That was about 12 years ago. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last week we went on a carribean cruise. </div><div><br /></div><div>Romantic right ?</div><div><br /></div><div>Upscale right ? </div><div><br /></div><div>I got a bad wrap for packing too much clothes but as we got in our cabin on the ship and I started to unpack his things. We had a tambourine.... a TAMBOURINE? Maracas ? A wooden thingy that makes music ? Did he have a gig on this boat and forgot to mention it ? </div><div><br /></div><div>The first thing that Randy had to eat when he got on the " floating buffet " with gourmet cuisine ? A hot dog... Yes a hot dog. </div><div><br /></div><div>We had 24 hour room service that was included in our all inclusive cruise price. Randy ordered it several times to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Yes... the moon , the boat, the music and a PB& J. Cant get any better right ? </div><div><br /></div><div>My Randy from ten years ago is totally different from the man I am married to now. He probably would say the same about me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Regardless its all still pure magic. </div><div><br /></div><div>Most days. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-32281838360989686232012-02-15T20:48:00.002-06:002012-02-15T21:11:00.204-06:00Where I am nowI guess I have come to a part of my life that I say " Well, Deb, you must be officially matured because you have been through some crap lately and you aren't freaking out." So.. here I go. <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;">" Well, Deb, you must be officially matured because you have been through some crap lately and you aren't freaking out."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Are the things I have been facing lately really just less dramatic than past circumstances or have I matured ? Am I eating to compensate for the stress ? Am I just crazy and I am not dealing with it by blocking it out , therefore it just seems less stressful. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Probably all of the above. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Over the holidays when my phone was dinging every ten minutes with yet another ( sorry ) but DUMB question or comment from a parent. Or I was receiving a phone call from a grandparents whining about why her grand daughters Letter to Santa wasn't in the paper I decided to change my cell number. "Well... if she came to school when she was supposed to and mom wasn't too lazy to drive her in this wouldn't even be an issue . So, before you start crawling up my back about a Letter to Santa maybe you should address your daughter about her parenting skills that most likely YOU passed on to HER." There.. I said it. Only in my head and here.. because I have better manners than to hurt someone that way. I wish people had the same respect for me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">I think I came dangerously close to having a mid life crisis. Ok Ok I did. I forgot to be thankful for what I have. I won't go into details but lets just say Mid Life crisis' are VERY REAL. It is like a cougar crawls inside your body and says.. you are getting OLD... LIVE! YOU DESERVE IT AT ANY COST ! Meow.... thankfully , I tamed the kitty before she did too much damage. ( Lord knows I committed several unspeakable sins in my head so the follow through wasn't necessarily needed. ) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Danielle moved back home. So far so good. She is very responsible and we are loving having her here. The first few weeks she did have a little fun but I look at that as her coming out party. Coming out of a TERRIBLE relationship where a man made her feel less than worthy of anything she deserved. So party a little she did and I just smiled and made sure she was safe . There were a few that judged her. That is when you find out who your real friends are. You know them.. the friends who's kids are perfect. ............... so far. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">The diet. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">THE diet.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">The DIET.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">I just finished off a bag of carmel popcorn. I'll leave it at that. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">I have so many more things to write about. I love blogging . It makes me feel better. I think I allowed face booking to take up this method of coping with life for me. And well. ... those one liner status updates aren't working for me much anymore. Here I can be myself. Here I can rant and rave and I don't have to worry if anyone "likes" it or not. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Happy to be back. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-80925903772197644652011-09-03T10:36:00.002-05:002011-09-03T10:51:59.776-05:00Life is like a railroad<div>
<br /></div><div> Life is like riding a train . Sometimes slow and you can enjoy the scenery. Sometimes fast . Sometime you go in a tunnel and it is very dark but always.. there is a light as you come to the end. </div><div>
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<br /></div>This morning I got up and walked over 4 miles. It felt really good. I think I have made a turn in my thinking . When I got up working out was my third thought. <div>
<br /></div><div>Thought one : Thanking the Lord for a new day and all the blessings.</div><div>Thought two: censored.</div><div>Thought three: I WANT TO GO WALK!</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I thought I would never hear myself say I WANT to work out, but I did. Now, if this old body can just cooperate with me and get in shape, that would be great. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Ok, met me get back on track... get it ... track? Railroad track. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>As I ride this journey of life out there are some things that I have learned.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>When my train is slow I have learned :</div><div>To look and listen for blessings .. because we all know -</div><div>
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<br /></div><div>I have learned to enjoy those seated around me, they might not always be there.</div><div>I have learned to enjoy the slow paths because right around the curve might be a hill that causes me to race like a crazy woman.</div><div>
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<br /></div><div>When my train is fast I have learned to breath.... just breath.</div><div>I have learned to let others help pull me along, I cant do it alone. </div><div>Enjoy the breeze.. let my hair down and feel the peace blow through me. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>When I go through a tunnel. </div><div>MAN, dont you hate the tunnels? </div><div>I have learned to keep my eyes open and try to adjust to the darkness so I can see but always know there is a light.</div><div>There is always a light. </div><div>There is always a light.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>And last.. a train almost always carries baggage. I have a little myself. Some that no one even knows about. My baggage is heavy and can weigh me down. I need to unload it ever once in a while. If I dont unload it, I cant help carry anyone elses baggage and helping ... is important. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>No sure where this blog came from or why... </div><div>
<br /></div><div>but... toot toot.. it's over. </div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-58299593619996257992011-05-24T23:58:00.002-05:002011-05-25T00:07:07.470-05:00Seeking ShelterTonight there was a tornado warning. In all honesty if a HUGE tornado had not just hit Joplin and killed several people, I think I might have not looked for a " fraidy" hole. Well, also - my grand daughter was at the shelter and the thought of being anywhere but where SHE was during a bad storm made me ill. There is just something about being near your kids when there is imminent danger. <div><br /></div><div>The tornado's passed by us. Thank the Lord we are all safe.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went by and picked up Addam on our way to JBU. He came; but reluctantly. You could tell that he thought it was stupid. Addam does NOT like crowds... As we walked into the JBU Health Complex and you could see huge crowds of people he paused and I heard him quietly groan. </div><div><br /></div><div>What he doesnt know is that the only other time in my life I have been to a storm shelter was when I was EXTREMELY pregnant with him. We lived in Fort Walton Beach and there was a hurricane warning. The doctor suggested since I was ready to deliver to stay at the hospital. I was near time so I secretly hoped that barometric pressure would dip or surge ( WHATEVER they expected) and cause his little body to make it's entrance. He didnt... he stayed very quiet all night and waited in the hallways for the danger to pass.</div><div><br /></div><div>Much like tonight..... very quiet... and waiting for the storm to pass.</div><div><br /></div><div>I DO appreciate him and love that he gave in to my panic to be near them and went with us.</div><div>Thanks Addam :) </div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-5515427688602152362011-02-19T23:23:00.002-06:002011-02-19T23:35:16.659-06:00The New MeThe New Me -<div>loves to read again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Likes to shop - a little too much.</div><div><br /></div><div>is leading a Bible study ( I know... right ?) </div><div><br /></div><div>is becoming a little eccentric.</div><div><br /></div><div>Loves monkey's in clothing pictures. ( see above ) </div><div><br /></div><div>Likes to work out ( as long as I dont forget my sports bra... otherwise dangerous. ) </div><div><br /></div><div>Doesnt wear my shirts quite as low cut .</div><div><br /></div><div>Loves to cook every night ( but never gets around to it. ) </div><div><br /></div><div>thinks almonds are over rated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wants to write a love story.. or song.</div><div><br /></div><div>will almost... a.l.m.o.s.t. look at herself in the mirror while getting out of the shower. </div><div><br /></div><div>wore fake eyelashes once and now I am dying to do it again.</div><div><br /></div><div>loves red dresses almost as much as black</div><div><br /></div><div>wants to go on a cruise</div><div><br /></div><div>sometimes wishes she could go away and pretend to be someone else- someone without expectations.</div><div><br /></div><div>is driven but in a different way... driven to live not succeed.</div><div><br /></div><div>believes that living is success.</div><div><br /></div><div>still loves making memories.</div><div><br /></div><div>The new me... is a lot like the old me ; only better and</div><div><br /></div><div>a </div><div><br /></div><div>little</div><div><br /></div><div>more </div><div><br /></div><div>honest</div><div><br /></div><div>with </div><div><br /></div><div>herself.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-79412505436836813712010-12-30T23:07:00.002-06:002010-12-30T23:33:14.199-06:00The Different ChristmasThis Christmas was different. This year, was the first without mom . As I busied myself getting ready for the holiday festivities I couldnt help but think about my mom and how hard last Christmas had to have been for my mom. It was her first without my dad. She tried so hard to be strong... and she was . I tried to be strong this year. I think I have a little of my mom's courage and determination ... or maybe I'm just stubborn and hard. This Christmas was different.<div><br /></div><div>I replaced a lot of my old decorations with new bright eccentric whimsical ones. I love them. They were a signature of my year and the new outlook I have . If it makes me smile , isnt a sin against God and doesnt hurt anyone - WHY NOT!? So, I started collecting monkey pictures. Not just normal monkeys but monkeys in clothes. I LOVE them! New home decor incorporating silly monkeys that make me smile and new whimsical pretties for the holidays.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Then there were the little changes - like instead of turkey we had ham. Instead of Christmas Eve with my brother we did it on a Monday night the week before. I moved the tree that has ALWAYS been in the foyer to the dining room. We had three parties within a week and a half and I used a lot of boxes instead of wrapping paper - ha ! </div><div><br /></div><div>This year we got to see Geneviette wake up and find that Santa had come to our house. What a joy to see the belief. The night before we watched a video message from Santa. G's eyes were as big as buttons. Some people believe playing Santa is a lie and wrong to tell children. So is saying " Honey, I'll help you in just a minute " while you talk on the phone and know it will be 20 more minutes. So, I chose to be honest when it counts and BELIEVE ! She knows Christmas is to celebrate Christ's birthday. Get over it.. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>This year we had a new , different family with us. Randy's new found son Jonathon and his family came to visit. We had a grand time getting to know them better and figuring out how we all will fit together as a family. Adding 6 over night can really add to the chaos of Christmas. We went to Branson for a few days. The last thing we did was go see " The Christmas Miracle". " The Christmas Miracle" is about the birth of Christ. At one point as a host of angels was singing " Glory to God" I turned to look at Randy and his eyes were filled with tears. I knew at that moment he was thinking the same thing I was - wow.. mom and dad and his mom and son are all up there.. singing right now at the throne of God. What a precious moment as our hearts were meeting at the same time and place. The time with Jonathon and his sweet family was well spent. I know this is the first of many different Christmas's with them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, this Christmas was different but in many ways and the most important ways it was the same. Our kids were here to celebrate with us. We are blessed with too much - stuff. And Jesus is still the reason for the season. </div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-89419356414587818222010-06-29T08:09:00.005-05:002010-06-29T20:11:42.797-05:00Mississippi you're on my mindI am in Mississippi. <div><br /></div><div>Maybe I should back up. </div><div><br /></div><div> Several weeks ago Randy got a letter that he thought was a joke. Surely, it would have been one in bad taste but I knew it didnt sound like a joke. A lady that Randy had a one night stand with in his younger days said " she had a 23 year old son that wanted to know who his father is." Really? At this time, my mom was being placed in hospice. This was all way too much to deal with. Thankfully my weightloss doctor has me on anti depressants to counter the other medications I am taking. I dont know what it feels like to need medication to get through days- but I am sure I would have needed something - anything at this point. Instead, I just shrugged my shoulders and said " Oh well... it isnt the worst thing that has happened this year. We'll figure it out." </div><div><br /></div><div>After a few emails and trying to decipher this ladies motives and intentions we were confused. I mean, seriously, why wait 23 years ? Then again.. God's timing is perfect. As mom got more sick we just had to set this problem aside. When we had taken care of moms affairs and life had slowed down a little we decided to get a DNA test done.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last Thursday Randy and I were driving to a concert - cruising down 540 on our way to Booneville. My phone " dinged" with an email. As I opened it I realized something that could potentially change our family forever was waiting on the other side of that PDF. I didnt understand what all the report had to say so I called the help line. As she told me that Randy's test was 99.99 percent positive I drew in a deep breath. After getting off the phone , I told Randy. It was a long quiet drive to Booneville. Then, we put on those happy faces and sang our heart out to kids for an hour. After the show we went to have dinner and finally talked. Randy cried. He had done this a few times before when we talked about this. I am sure his heart was a mess. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday we laid to rest my cousins 21 year old cousins daughter. I sang " Tears in Heaven " . Life taken away.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Afterwards we drove to Mississippi to meet Jonathon. Life given.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jonathon and Alecia seem to be a nice family. They have four children. We met one, Parker, a cute energetic little red haired one year old. Randy and Jonathon look a lot alike. One of my favorite features on Randy is his arms and hands. I dont know why. Jonathon has his dads arms and hands. As I looked at Jonathon I tried to imagine Randy that young and couldnt help but be a little jealous that I didnt know Randy 23 years ago. </div><div><br /></div><div>In my heart I know I was born to be a mother - a caretaker. I would have loved to have a baby with Randy, but I didnt. This lady did though.. that he doesnt even remember. </div><div><br /></div><div>Opps.. there it goes. You knew my feelings would surface eventually instead of just being a report . I am not sure how all this will go. I know that God has a plan in our lives and it isnt my job to second guess him. All the "weird" feelings I have about this are selfish and that isnt good. So, I am putting on my big girl panties and dealing. We are blessed to have this happen now.. and with this sweet family. </div><div><br /></div><div>It'll be ok. </div><div><br /></div><div>So... here we are in Mississippi .</div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-24139119899052614752010-05-23T11:18:00.004-05:002010-05-23T12:13:40.795-05:00Mom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ16MxLLdfNkiNuEtLf1LO2ADynFHVKJVmNVrW2qXz65y13cgWKI7vTbSf6dLoPJnUDnvRXXHwIcLgn0l-Q0YSb34gpBlw60Q1_IJipXjUIS1Eq0At3IfmBuWWlEaE0mnFAm7eTbfSsOA/s1600/IMG_0675.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ16MxLLdfNkiNuEtLf1LO2ADynFHVKJVmNVrW2qXz65y13cgWKI7vTbSf6dLoPJnUDnvRXXHwIcLgn0l-Q0YSb34gpBlw60Q1_IJipXjUIS1Eq0At3IfmBuWWlEaE0mnFAm7eTbfSsOA/s320/IMG_0675.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474513754740129778" /></a><br />Eight days after posting my last entry - my mom went home to heaven. Here are some things that are forever etched into my memory and my heart about those last days. ( This will be long- grab a cup of coffee . ) <div><br /></div><div>The day we brought mom home and the hospice nurse came to visit with us to tell us what we would expect to see as mom started her final journey home. She got there in the evening on Thursday night . There were little things that told us she knew mom was almost there. We were going over mom's medicine and when we came to the synthroid , which she had taken forever since her hysterectomy, the nurse said they dont provide that. Then she looked in the bottle and said " I think we'll be ok." It took a while to let what she meant soak in. I resisted the urge to count the pills to see how many pills/ slash days we had left with mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>Keith and I decided to take time off work to be with mom. The doctor had told me a " few " weeks. Keith had went into work on Thursday. Thursday morning mom woke up and said " I'm ready" I said " ready for what mom?" She replied " To go see Jesus." I asked mom was she sure and was there anything that I needed to take care of . She said no. I asked her should I get Keith ? She said " yes, Keith needs to be here with us." Pam called Keith and he got on his way home. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mom held on for a few more days and throughout the days there were a lot of things that she said that made us linger on every word.</div><div><br /></div><div>" Turn him around , I cant see him" who mom? " my sheep, I cant see his face."</div><div><br /></div><div>" Did you see those flowers? They were beautiful . They were right there."</div><div><br /></div><div>" They called and said they are ready." Who mom? " The funeral home. Are you ready to go? They said they are ready for me."</div><div><br /></div><div>One night while I was with mom alone my friend Beth came over to visit. I went in to check on mom and I said " Mom your feet are so swollen." She replied not for long. I said " What do you mean mom?" She said Isnt that what they told you that I wont be here much longer? WHAT DO YOU SAY? I said " yes , mom.. they did. How do you feel about that? " She said she was ready. I asked her was there anything I could do. She said no. I said " Do you think dad is there waiting on you?" She smiled and said yes. </div><div><br /></div><div>I asked mom what she thought Heaven would be like. She said " It will be beautiful. No more sorrow no more pain.." I thought she was going to start singing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I asked mom was she scared and she said no. Facing death but so sure of where she is going she had no fear at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>My aunt , moms sister, came up to help us take care of her and to say goodbye. She was a huge help. One time as I walked out of the room she said mom said " Goodbye Deb, I love you. See you in Heaven." </div><div><br /></div><div>Once we were all in moms room talking to her and telling her if she was hanging on for us that we would be ok... dont worry. As we cried, we heard a car pull up. Great timing , I think not, who will leave and go to the door? Randy did. It was Steve, our pastor . He said he was just in the neighborhood and felt the need to stop. He did. He prayed with us. What a comfort. What a reassurance that God was there, with us Great timing ? Yes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mom's nurse was sent from God. I think she was specially chosen.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first day I met Genia she walked to my moms bedside and said " Ms Betty, I told you I was going to ask you this. Is it well with your soul?" My mom smiled and said " It is." </div><div><br /></div><div>Genia said she felt she was there to be a vessel. She said she felt moms job on earth was not finished and she was there to help her do whatever it was she needed done. As she did procedures we could hear her singing . Later we found out that she prays for her patient and that is one of the ways she does it - through music.</div><div><br /></div><div>Genia said that mom had touched her heart in such a short time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Genia had touched ours.</div><div><br /></div><div>When everyone thought that mom would have been gone Genia said " How much time do you spend together?" My brother said who? Me and my mom? She said " No, you and your sister." Keith explained not a lot that we both have very busy lives. Genia said " Wouldnt it be just like a mom to hang on a little longer to have you spend time together and remember how important it is?" Every Friday since then Keith has been at my house , just to check in. He calls. Mom would be proud that we are finding the time to reconnect. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the last days Keith and I rarely left moms side. We hung on every word she said Until --- Genia told us something . She said she believes that when believers entered the gates of Heaven that the streets are lined with loved ones that had went before. Those people are telling her what a difference she made in their life and recounting all her good deeds. So, everything mom said might not be meant for us. </div><div><br /></div><div>Genia was a blessing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Keith, Pam, Randy and I spent moms last days spending time with her and looking through photo albums and talking. We started planning her funeral. She had requested two songs. I went to pick out her casket and Keith took care of the business end. We started to not feel like we had to be at her bedside every minute. By this time she had slipped into a coma . On Thursday evening all of us were around her bed talking and knew the time was close. One by one we all walked out . At 6:50 I walked into her room and waited for her to catch her breath. Many times she would have apnea for 30- 45 seconds at a time, which felt forever. She never did. As I called Keith and Pam back into the room we checked her pulse and then her blood pressure. As " Sheltered in the Arms of God" played on the CD player in her room, she entered the gates of Heaven. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am sure my dad was standing there saying " what took you so long Betty?"</div><div><br /></div><div>We did all the things we had been taught to do. Hospice arrived and we went outside. After they prepared mom and left with her we all sat outside on her patio. </div><div><br /></div><div>A member of moms class had brought supper at 5:00. We had not eatten. The four of us took time together to have a meal as a family at moms. I am guessing for the last time. Mom and dad would have liked that. </div><div><br /></div><div>Since then we have found notes from mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>How she feeds the dog.</div><div>How to clean the silver.</div><div>and even a hand written poem she copied and tucked in her cookbooks called Dont Grieve for Me. </div><div><br /></div><div>What a mom. Faithful in life. Faithful in Death. An example from beginning to end. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks mom, we miss you . </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-54670169515281427632010-04-28T21:25:00.002-05:002010-04-28T21:58:26.313-05:00Hospice and the Long Good ByeI am sitting in the dark next to my moms hospital bed waiting on the hospice doctor to come in. It is 9:25 pm, so perhaps I should realize that wont be tonight. Lets go back a few days.<div><br /></div><div>Mom's health has been deteriorating rapidly. She has no sense of night or day and gets confused easy. As a family we decided we would take turns getting her in routine. Every morning I have been going and waking her up and getting her breakfast, making sure she takes her medicines and letting the dog out. Yesterday morning when I went in I let the dog out and popped in her room with my usual " too perky in the morning" GOOD MOOORning MOM. I looked at her bed and it was empty. For a brief second I felt optimistic that she had beat me up and was in the bathroom. As I started in the room, I realized how wrong I was, she was on the floor. I said . " Mom.." She said " I am ok, I just fell " I couldn't get her in bed and had to call for help. Surprisingly , I remained calm. I knew we had to get some answers to this drastic change in her . Keith and I brought mom to her oncologist and they gave her some IV meds, but still no answered questions. At one point in the day, one of the nurses asked me " were we comfortable taking her home ? " Well, I was a little nervous before but now that you asked.. I am VERY nervous about it. They decide to admit mom to Washington Regional. Keith stays the night. I get up and have an appointment with moms doctor at 8:30. I want to ask the BIG questions. These are questions that I think I know the answer to ,but I have to hear it from him. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I sit in the waiting area of the oncologist office I am looking around the room. So many different people. An older lady walked by and commented on my sandals . " How cute". She sat with her husband. They were BOTH seeing the doctor and getting treatments. What an ordeal that must be. I doubt it is at all like the buddy system in weight watchers. There was a VERY young girl.. how scared she must be. As I looked around me I realized that although we all came from different walks of life, we were all going through the same things. They call my moms name.</div><div><br /></div><div>I go back.</div><div><br /></div><div>And wait.</div><div>And wait.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr Travis comes in and listens to me. He basically tells me that mom has fought a good fight. The treatments have taken a toll on her body and her mind. He said that dads death was hard on her. That mom is an " I'm fine" lady. No matter what happens in life she is " fine". He feels like she internalized all the feelings of loss with daddy. That, her health , the treatments all come down to one thing. A few weeks. A few weeks.... I took a deep breath. You mean, we have a few weeks left ? Yes... Whether we do treatment or not. </div><div><br /></div><div>Wow.. I am going to lose my mom not even 6 months after losing my dad. Seriously? wow.</div><div><br /></div><div>As Dr Travis and I finished our discussion he told me that hospice would be over to the hospital to set up a plan for mom . We are doing home hospice. As I walked out of the office trying not to gasp for air and through the filled waiting room I wondered, what do these people think seeing me leave holding back tears . They know why.. they have to. They know that one day, that will be them.. or their daughter. I got to the car and slammed the door and sobbed. Harder than I have in a long time. I can do this . I can do this. I can do this.</div><div><br /></div><div>I called Randy. If you can hear a heart break,.. I heard his. </div><div><br /></div><div>I came across the street to the hospital where Keith was with mom. I called him and asked him to come downstairs and bring a washcloth.. cold. Wet... He did. We sat in the hallway and talked. He was upset.. I was upset. He went home I went upstairs to face mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>My eye problem I have been dealing with is in FULL SWING. I look like a raccoon with red circles around my eyes. As I walked in mom said " sis , your eyes sure are bad." Yes . mom they are .. these crazy allergies. </div><div><br /></div><div>We have waited all day for Hospice. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am sitting in the dark next to moms bed. She doesnt know yet. Although I think she suspects it. As I listen to her breath I realize the things about my mom I will miss. I 'll miss her strong faith and honest " tell it like it is " concern. I'll miss her yummy banana pudding. I'll miss her smile that hides so much pain. I am also convicted. I too am an " Im fine" girl. Many times, I have a smile that hides my pain. </div><div><br /></div><div>With each breath , I wonder... what do you think about when you know you have just a few weeks to live? What do you want to do? What if it were me? Have I loved enough? Have I given enough ? </div><div><br /></div><div>Im gonna miss mom. Today she said " Deb, when I turn this way, I can see David sitting right there." Is it possible? Is he sitting by her side waiting for her to join him? </div><div><br /></div><div>I think so.</div><div><br /></div><div>Daddy , she will be there soon. I hope in the mean time we make you proud. </div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-55959670818813312352010-04-07T15:43:00.002-05:002010-04-07T16:07:25.856-05:00I know betterToday, this week ( well, this whole year really, but who's taking score??) has been a little crazy. I am have learned not to blog when I am overwhelmed or emotionally fragile and just down right mad, so.. I should probably sign off now - but I wont. For some reason I feel like SPEWING all over the place and sharing my agitation with others. I know better.<div><br /></div><div>We have been waiting two months on an inspection that determines our funding ( or lack of ) . I know I am good at what I do. I work endlessly in it. When I fill out something that ask for hobbies there are no spots for lamination or lesson planning, but in my case there needs to be. Rarely can I take a mental break from work. I am constantly on the next page of what I need to do. That isnt a bad thing and I am SO thankful that I LOVE my job... but waiting on this inspection is crazy. The sad part is - as ready as we are - the day could fall apart as they sometimes do with 16 preschoolers and all the mental and physical preparation would be in vain. I am not a good " waiter." I am exhausted. I know better.</div><div><br /></div><div>My mom went to the doctor today. Her count is higher than it has ever been. When I go see her it sucks the life out of my as I watch her fade. I have to start finding the joy in spending the time with her and value the time I do have more than the time I will lose. I know better.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hired a contractor to come do three odd jobs. He came . He asked to be paid. I asked what he did. He said " We did two jobs today." I paid him. I go look to find out even those two jobs are not complete and now he wont return my phone calls. Almost a THOUSAND DOLLARS. I am TOO TRUSTING. Of course the husband says I should have never paid him the full amount. You know what I say.. I shouldnt be handling this stuff anyway. If I am not doing it right....then PLEASE do it for me. PLEASE ( or shut up .) The end. One of us knows better. </div><div><br /></div><div>Weight Loss. Slowly but surely it is coming off. I can tell a difference in my clothes. I am not the incredible shrinking man like Randy. He is 7o plus pounds less now. So.. whenever we are together, my 40 plus is unnoticed. waaaa.... I know better. </div><div><br /></div><div>Birthdays. I am turning 44 tomorrow. Thankfully that isnt my bust size anymore, I guess that is a blessing.... It should be good. I am having one of " those weeks" ( you know... two workshops to do on Saturday and one isnt even WRITTEN YET.) . Randy said he heard Price Cutter has their greeting cards at 40% off ....yeah.. I know better. </div><div><br /></div><div>My eyes. My eyes have been messed up for over a month now. When I girl is over weight you know what she hears a lot. BuT YOU HAVE SUCH PRETTY EYES... hmph... now what? I know better. </div><div><br /></div><div>I cant get in touch with my tax person that I have used to four years. I finally went to a new one . He says.. she did it all wrong. Last year I had to pay in over 6,000. If SHE DID IT WRONG.. what WILL this year be.... Sometimes making more money isnt worth it. Ugh.. I knew better. </div><div><br /></div><div>All in all my life is good. I have heard though that people that suppress feelings of anxiety have heart attacks. If that is true.. I hope those that are around me the most know CPR. I am a walking heart attack. </div><div><br /></div><div>I need a break.</div><div><br /></div><div>I need a break.</div><div><br /></div><div>I need a break. </div><div><br /></div><div>See.... now you are depressed too. </div><div><br /></div><div>I knew better. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-60126849737818496472010-03-16T22:58:00.002-05:002010-03-16T23:11:06.897-05:00Everyone needs somebodyToday was moms birthday. <div><br /></div><div>Today was her first birthday without dad.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I was leaving her house Geneviette says " Is nanny taking good care of pawpaws truck?"</div><div>Me- Yes, why?</div><div>G- Who's gonna drive it now?</div><div>Me- I guess no one. Nanny offered it to me and to Uncle Keith but we dont need it.</div><div>G- Oh, Whats she going to do with it?</div><div>Me- I dont know.</div><div>G- Do we come see nanny because she is alone?</div><div>Me- Yes</div><div>G- PawPaws in Heaven</div><div>Me Yes he is. What do you think about that?</div><div>G- Will Nanny ever get another husband?</div><div>Me- I doubt it G.</div><div>G- Why?</div><div>Me- She is older and doesnt feel very well. </div><div>G- She needs someone.</div><div>Me- Why?</div><div>G- So she wont be alone.</div><div><br /></div><div>I almost cried. What a deep thinker and loving heart my beautiful grand daughter has at four years old. Precious , precious times. I told mom about our conversation. She teared up too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Birthday Mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>The best present wasnt given too you, it was from you. A heart that loves and a family that cares. I hope my legacy of love is as strong as yours. </div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-39143796948758262142010-01-31T09:15:00.003-06:002010-01-31T09:36:32.499-06:00The Journey of Becoming OlderI wasnt sure what to title this blog. This morning as I checked my facebook account I saw my cousin had posted to pray for my Aunt Patsy, she has had a heart attack. How does this happen that one day you are young and playing.. then growing up and getting married and then you get to this stage in life. The stage where you see your parents get sick . You see your parents leave this earth and go to Heaven. You see all the older people that have been such a large part of your life... start to pass away.. one by one..<div><br /></div><div>I am so thankful I went to the family reunion this past October. I went back and read what I had wrote about it. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(41, 48, 59); ">One of the things that stood out to me over and over again while at our festivities were the looks on my aunts and uncles faces. I remember as a kid lots of laughter and fun. I think maybe I got my " funny side" from the Prince family. My moms family is an " easy to smile" family. This trip as I looked around the room I didnt see as much laughter and smiles. My moms brothers and sisters are all in thier 60 -80's now. I saw an older generation looking and remembering and maybe even a look of sadness. Was it a look that seemed to whisper " This may be the last time I am here"? Was it a look that said " Times have changed"? Several times I wanted to ask " what are you thinking about ?" but I didnt want to break their silence and wasn't sure I could handle the answer I got. Sadness...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#29303B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I know it is inevitable that generations will pass. We expect it. We prepare for it. But it still hurts... </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#29303B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-86893814074643376702010-01-05T22:01:00.002-06:002010-01-05T22:08:31.927-06:00Dads Jacket and HatMy dad passed away the 18th of December .I havent written about it because I am not ready yet. The hardest part has been seeing my mom deal with his death. FORTY EIGHT and A HALF years they were married. That is a long time. Mom has cancer. We don't know how long she will live. When this happened she cried so hard and said " I can't do this without him." over and over and over.... I just put my arms around her as she sobbed.<div><br /></div><div>My mom is strong.</div><div><br /></div><div>Very Strong.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday she broke down and said " It has been two weeks since we buried your dad."</div><div><br /></div><div>Tonight when I went in his jacket and his hat were not on the rack anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>I didnt say anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I see my mom get better each day, I see more and more things of my dads move. I am not sure where they are going. She asked me did I want his Bible.. not yet. I dont want his Bible yet. I dont know that I am ready to hold it in my hands with his name on the front and realize even more , that never again will he read it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh.. I know.. he doesnt have to. He is sitting at the authors feet.</div><div><br /></div><div>But it still makes me sad.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am taking the hat and the jacket as a sign. A sign that my mom is healing and that is a good thing. </div><div><br /></div><div>But .. it still makes me sad.</div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-19957193316200636942009-12-31T16:13:00.002-06:002009-12-31T16:33:24.684-06:00Good Bye FredToday has been an emotional rollercoaster ( of sorts - maybe that was a little dramatic ) for me. <div><br /></div><div>First there was the pomerian that showed up in our house a couple weeks ago.</div><div>Then it left.... it was meant to be. Long story.... ( I have copied and pasted this part of the story from my preschool blog ) </div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(41, 48, 59); "><h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="font-weight: normal; font-size: 18px; color: rgb(27, 4, 49); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;color:#29303B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;color:#1B0431;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></h3><div class="post-body entry-content"><div>My dad passed away Friday the 18th. The funeral was Monday the 21st. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>On Tuesday the 22nd , Danielle and I are out shopping and Randy says to " Hurry home, he has a surprise for me." I called my mom and she said the same thing. So we hurry home. Geneviette ( the four year old grandbaby ) is at the fence with her arms stretched out as far as they will go yelling " Don't look ! It's a puppy and it's for Christmas!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Seems the neighbor heard about our plight with the pomeranian and thought we really wanted a dog. Some elderly people around the block had a dog they couldnt take care of and thought we would make a good home. Lydia said " God has blessed you with this dog." I think Randy was so shocked he didnt know what to say... and how do you argue with God ?</div><div><br /></div><div>So.. meet Fred. Fred is here to stay and fits in our home so well. He is great with</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMz2ZgEE1ZXL6cbUWRNQUGwzSily37n2pegwjgpGkfJ9BK6Ms31mOnYkFSCsTD-jLkPsyYg-XRSYTPdB-en1GlRncwGcvIkSQvyldYLmbqM3hNqDkKDeSRFskg971wHvo2FaNRELTvc5I/s200/P1090894.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419727640557013554" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px; " /><div>Geneviette which hopefully means he will be great when preschool starts. I have already emailed our environmental rating scale observer about the implications of having a dog in the home with the kids. We will make it work.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love Fred already.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today : The end of the story. </div><div><br /></div></div></span><div>I had not been by to thank the elderly couple that gave the dog to us ( through neighbors ) and I was taking Fred to the vet and decided today was the right time. I rang the door bell and no one came. As I got to the truck this little old lady opened the door and sweetly called " FREEEDDDIEEE" . I took Fred to her and quickly realized how much she loved Fred. She invited me in and we talked about how much she misses him. She said every day she has gotten up and ached missing this little dog. ( Understandingly so- cute and precious as he is .) I asked her did she want him back and she cried and said " Yes.. I do" I choked back the tears knowing what I needed to do and said " I will go home and get all his stuff and bring it back to you." She said ' I thought this morning I heard him in the hall way when I woke up, I thought my daughter had brought him home to me. My daughter passed away two years ago today." I am getting really choked up. Having just lost my dad , I know the pain she must be feeliing. I again said " Well, I will go home and get his stuff and you wont be missing him anymore." She said "I dreamed my Debbie had brought him back to me." I said... " Who? What did you say?" She replied " My daughter that passed away two years ago, her name was Debbie." I said ' Do you know what my name is?" She said " no mam" I said , " My name is Debbie and it looks like Debbie has brought your little dog back to you just when you needed it most." At this point my tears are flowing and I hugged her and came home to get his stuff. By the time I made it back to her house, the tears were gone. I took the kennel in with all the accessories we had bought him . including his stylish new red parka for Christmas. I unloaded it all in his spot in her house. I took his dish to the sink and got him water and filled his food bowl. I hugged her again and told her if she ever feels again like she cant take care of him to call. We can help out or take him back.. what ever is needed. I think Fred is an angel. Or maybe my friend Dana was right when she said that my daddy has already charmed an angel and thought I needed Fred for a few days. I think Fred came to me when I needed him most and I think I took him back when his really mommy needed him more. </div><div><br /></div><div>Who would think on THE day TWO years ago the she lost her daughter DEBBIE, that I would stop by to say thank you....</div><div><br /></div><div>Somehow I think I havent seen the last of Fred.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-74396452859721289762009-12-07T18:36:00.003-06:002009-12-07T18:50:13.365-06:00Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas TreeI just finished putting up the Christmas tree after the boxes were on the porch for a full week. I have decided that we are becoming the red neck family that stores stuff on the porch. Have you ever driven by a house and the front of it had boxes, old cars and goats? Did you wonder how they got to that point? Let me tell you... one Christmas box at a time.<div><br /></div><div>Putting up the tree has always been a tradition for Danielle and I the day after Thanksgiving. Since she isn't here, I figured I might as well break them all and I am just now getting around to decorating a little. Another thing we always did was each kid put their own Christmas ornaments on, which in some way symbolized the year. When Addam and Danielle got married I gave them their ornaments for their first Christmas tree away from home. But.. that is another blog for another day. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>As I put the ornaments on the tree tonight it was like a trip down memory lane.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was the ornament from Nashville Tenn . I took Randy there for his birthday the year before we got married. Yes, the year before. What a sinner.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then there is the bride and groom with 2002 on it. We always confuse the year. So glad once a year to confirm it and be sure. </div><div><br /></div><div>There were several ornaments from old daycare children. Several were from Skyler Ames- such a beautiful girl.. then and now. I even had a few " teacher ornaments" from kids that might should have been retired or broken when they left, just to assure no children like them come along behind.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have ornaments that hung on my tree as a child. Some my mother had made....some that I just remember.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are homemade ones that Scott, Randy's son made. He died in a car crash before we were married. I wonder what his life would be like now, if he had lived? I wonder would he have liked me or if I would have been the mean evil step mother...</div><div><br /></div><div>SHINY! After the kids ornaments were gone the tree was a little bare so of course I bought new ones that are huge and sparkly.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wonder how much the little Ronald McDonald ornaments are that I got when I was 16 and worked at McDonalds?</div><div><br /></div><div>There are several from Hawaii and our trips there and one that Addam and Lauren sent to us.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This year I have a few from Geneviette that were bought last year and the first one from preschool she made TODAY! I am SO excited. NO one.. will be getting these ornaments.. until I am dead. </div><div><br /></div><div>Take notice. </div><div><br /></div><div>My Christmas tree isnt anything like the ones I saw yesterday on the tour of homes with friends but then again.. they havent lived my life . I would bet a few of them would trade their fancy tree's for all the memories I have on mine. </div><div><br /></div><div>My Christmas memory tree.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-3222902776195128402009-10-23T00:01:00.001-05:002009-10-23T00:01:50.179-05:00video of mom singing<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6-J5QO2Yp4g&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6-J5QO2Yp4g&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229117691267345172.post-28865546515062289922009-10-21T13:07:00.003-05:002009-10-21T13:45:02.115-05:00The Family Reunion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmHtufyvLksw96hc7UzWdUkI4ITLkcAkHG8T_qT7oWWG7cK543ekWOzOLFoj3b_ITrHNWiByDlsHxSYjMvUpeqSChYEpVwyDIs8anXMtSLH24oAfsV4aO16_SIRKI5igKHx7xrfliHdI/s1600-h/P1080481.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmHtufyvLksw96hc7UzWdUkI4ITLkcAkHG8T_qT7oWWG7cK543ekWOzOLFoj3b_ITrHNWiByDlsHxSYjMvUpeqSChYEpVwyDIs8anXMtSLH24oAfsV4aO16_SIRKI5igKHx7xrfliHdI/s200/P1080481.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395125510855442594" /></a><br />I have hardly slowed down since I came home from the family reunion and there wasn't a lot of time to blog while there but I wish I had taken the time. Blogging when emotions are raw and pure are good for the soul. Well, as long as those emotions are not angry and directed toward someone else . Or before your exhusbands funeral when you are hurt and confused.. not good then either. <div><br /></div><div>One of the things that stood out to me over and over again while at our festivities were the looks on my aunts and uncles faces. I remember as a kid lots of laughter and fun. I think maybe I got my " funny side" from the Prince family. My moms family is an " easy to smile" family. This trip as I looked around the room I didnt see as much laughter and smiles. My moms brothers and sisters are all in thier 60 -80's now. I saw an older generation looking and remembering and maybe even a look of sadness. Was it a look that seemed to whisper " This may be the last time I am here"? Was it a look that said " Times have changed"? Several times I wanted to ask " what are you thinking about ?" but I didnt want to break their silence and wasn't sure I could handle the answer I got. Sadness...</div><div><br /></div><div>Seeing Geneviette with our family really made my heart smile. I think kids " now days" ( I guess using that term I put myself in a definate age bracket ) do not know their extended families as they should. Sometimes it is important to know where you are from to know the direction you are headed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of.. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am so glad I got to see Dale. Dale is my cousin , formally known as Jimmy Dale. :) He is one of the people that has proven that a person can over come what they are dealt in life. He is professional, accomplished, handsome and kind... most of all kind. I was worried about Dale when this reunion was planned. I will just leave it at this - even a family that tends to be close minded can show love and compassion and respect when need be. </div><div><br /></div><div>The food... My aunts are great cooks and such proud cooks. There was a cake the first day that had a tag on it called " the ugly cake". It might have been ugly but yum-o was it good. The second day I scanned the table looking for my favorite and said " My favorite cake is gone- the ugly cake." My sister in law looked and me and said " Debbie, I think that was the cake that was covered in ants yesterday and Brenda handpicked them out." hmm... I confirmed that it indeed was. Brenda didnt want to hurt Aunt Carolyn's feelings, so she didnt remove it from the table " and got MOST of the ants out." Yep... me.. the ant eater. Thanks for the heads up cousin! :)</div><div><br /></div><div>The reunion itself was held in the Biscoe Community Building. This old building is where most of my aunt and uncles and my mom went to grade school. Next door to that was the Baptist Church where my mom and dad were married. I felt like I was standing on sacred ground... so full of stories and memories and where my story began. </div><div><br /></div><div>Another vivid memory I have is of my aunts and uncles ( 9 of them ) standing around the piano singing old gospel songs. Aunt Rosey started playing and then Aunt Gerl joined in and then my mom. As I type this I feel a lump coming up in my throat. I know it was a high point for my mom. As they sang my Uncle WO broke down and cried. They put their arms around him and continued to sing. What a testimony of faith.. and love. </div><div><br /></div><div>There was other singing. My cousin Little Bill - now we call him Bill. :) did an acapella version of Beaulah Land. You could see Bills love for the Lord as he sang. After his song was over he boldly told anyone that he would love to explain what this song means to him if they would like to hear it. Then.. three of my cousins did " Bobby Sue." Yes, they did. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday the Prince family filled the little Methodist Church in Brassfield. There were flowers at the front in honor of my grandparents. They would have been so proud. Randy and I did special music. I almost broke down as I looked out and my cousin was wiping a tear from her eyes. Why was she crying? Did she too realize this might be the last time we are all together? My mom has cancer- ovarian. Her mom has had breast cancer for 15 years. Times like these are precious. As we left the church we drove past my dad who was walking down the gravel road past my grandparents old house to my aunts. Dad told Randy about having to bury a baby that mom miscarried at the corner of that old house . He said he put it in a coffee can and dug the hole. As he said it tears streamed down his face. So many things, So many... make us who we are today. So many things that we rarely talk about. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even the prayers were different there. They prayed for the farmers and the land. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think I would love to live there.. where life is slower. Where kids still know what cotton fields are and say yes mam and no mam. Where the neighbors share a garden and put vegetables up for the winter... Where a shoe tree ( a tree with shoes from the grandkids nailed all the way to the top ) is acceptable yard decor. Ok, maybe not that... but I do think it was a better time. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was good to see everyone and be reminded that families still do cherish the things that are important. Family. </div><div><br /></div>Ms Debbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02881158560938169986noreply@blogger.com1