tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9041886636904792462024-03-14T03:25:03.589-07:00Loving lifeRachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-69821409101211612502015-12-23T23:32:00.001-08:002015-12-24T13:41:59.353-08:00Families come in all different shapes and sizes. Some are big, some are small. Some are close, while others, not at all. Tonight on Christmas Eve, there is nothing more important than the gift of the father and family that has so graciously been given to me. <br />
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Our roots, they run deep. From the mountains of Eastern Kentucky to a corner on Daisy Hill. Papaw Frank left the land of coal mines and stills, looking for something better. He soon found that something better, Mamaw Patty.<br />
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Married in the Fall of 54, they started out with a lot of love, and not a whole lot more. They made their home with Mamaw and Papaw Bailey, and soon started a family. First came Debbie and Lonnie, then Amanda, and lastly Cliff. Six people in one bedroom was a lot, three bunk beds, a double bed, and a crib. When it came time to take a bath, they would put an old wash tub in the kitchen floor. Lonnie usually had to take a bath last, because he was always the dirtiest. In their finest clothes, finger curls and all, they would be in the same pew at church each and every Sunday.<br />
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Mamaw and Papaw worked hard to provide for their family. Papaw worked at the mill, while Mamaw ran a household. They would hunt and grow a garden to feed an army. They would can all summer, so that when winter came around, they would never go hungry. They'd even bury potatoes, cabbage, and brocolli, and dig it up in cold weather, and it would be as fresh as the day they had picked it.<br />
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Christmas in those days was the best time of the year. After slaughtering three pigs the day after Thanksgiving at Papaw Till's, the preparations of the season began. When it came time to get the tree, they'd climb the hill behind the house, and cut their own. It would be adorned with ornaments, old colored bulbs, and strung with popcorn. The cooking seemed to go on for days. Bob Hurst's chicken made the best dumplings and Mamaw Bailey's divinty and fruit cake was to die for. The best part of the holiday though was family. Donna, William, and the kids would come home. The Baileys, Aunt Elsie, Uncle Bill, they all came, and they all enjoyed being together.<br />
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Finally after several years of hard work, by his own two hands, Papaw Frank built the house that stands to this day. That first night in the new house was a long night. It seemed so big and that hallway was so long. They soon adjusted though, but they still kept the sidewalk hot between Mamaw and Papaw Bailey's house too. <br />
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Years passed, and before you knew it, Debbie, Lonnie, Amanda, and Cliff were married and had started families of their own. Mamaw and Papaw added four other children to their family. Treating their in laws just as if they were their own children. Then along came the Grandchildren<br />
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Thats where I came into the picture. Hunting trips, Fishing holes, sleep overs with foam mattresses, and Sunday night suppers at Mamaw's house, they were the best. Ballgames, Band concerts, cross country meets, and plays, they never missed a one. Shot days and a ride to Salem to get a sandwich, they did it all. We even got extra chicken nuggets in the cafeteria line at school. Big green bowls of popcorn, huddled around mamaw and Papaw's cable tv, when the Kentucky Wildcats were playing, that was the place to be. It was a wonderful childhood and before we knew it, we were all grown up and starting our families too.<br />
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Over the past few years we have endured a lot in this family. You cannot replace a Papaw like we had. Cancer, NICU visits, surgeries and even Autism. When I found out my Frankie had Autism, I was brought to my knees, and I felt a pain that I have never felt before. But when I looked around, each one of you were on your knees too. That is what we do, we love, we support, we carry each other's burdens, and we go on.<br />
In this family cousins are like extra siblings, and Aunts and Uncles are like bonus parents. Everyone has their own special gifts that makes up this rare gem that we are.<br />
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With each passing year we grow, bringing new little ones in the fold. As we grow, let us never forget the traditions passed on from those before us, and let us never forget the roots that have been planted firmly in our hearts.<br />
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So, this Christmas Eve, Bless be this tie that Binds us, our faith and our family, for there is not a more beautiful package under the tree, than the one that is surounding me. Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-90671865647661817242014-07-21T11:25:00.001-07:002014-07-21T11:25:24.355-07:00My Granny's Eulogy from my heart<br />
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On a cold winter morning in February of 1933, at their farm
on Pleasant Ridge, Virgina Bottoms Marrs
and Benjamin Black Marrs welcomed their daughter Judith into this world. Born during the Great Depression, Judy was
one of seven children, 1 boy, and 6 girls.
She came from humble beginnings, but what they lacked for in material
things, they made up for in love.</div>
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Being the youngest of seven, Judy always had a
playmate. Likewise, she always had a
boss too. Anyone who knew Judy well knew
that she didn’t like to be bossed, and when the day finally came that she got
to fill that role, she enjoyed it, and she did it well. Some of Judy’s fondest memories were from her
childhood, growing up on their farm, and spending time with her sisters. They would walk together to a one room school
house, in the summers they would work in the tobacco patch, pick berries at
Rosenberger’s farm, and swim in the quarry next to their home. At Christmas they would go to the hay market
and buy bushels of apples and oranges and get a set of water color paints. It may not seem like much now, but for Judy
it was a treasure that she would remember for years to come. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the war started Judy’s mother and her sisters Eva,
Velma, and Jean went to work. The one
room school house on Pleasant Ridge closed, and Judy started school at
Borden. While in high school Judy was a
cheerleader for the Borden Berries. It
wasn’t long and the suitors came a calling.
The Marrs girls were all beauties, and her dad once said that if all the
young men who came to see his girls would bring a rock, he’d have a nice gravel
driveway. It wasn’t long before a young
man by the name of Johnnie Lewis had his sights set on Judy. Before they had a telephone, Johnnie would send a postcard to Judy in the
mail asking her out on a date for the following weekend, and she did a lot of running down that long
driveway to meet the mail man. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John and Judy continued to date, and in 1950 Judy graduated
from Borden high school. After
graduation, Judy took at trip with her sisters Eva and Margie. They drove Eva’s convertible all the way to
Miami where Judy got to see the ocean for the first time while making memories
with her sisters that lasted a lifetime.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally in June of 1952 Judy married her high school
sweetheart and the love of her life, Johnnie.
They had a garden wedding at the home of John’s sister, Joyce. It was beautiful. They had a white lattice woven with sweet
peas from her mother’s garden and Judy wore a simple white dress with a white
hat. They were so happy, and so in Love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Judy and John made their home in Souders” Holler”, next to
John’s parents. Being the youngest, Judy
didn’t have to do a lot of cooking growing up like her older sisters did, so
her kind mother- in- law Katie took her under her wing and taught her how to
cook. One of the things that Judy
perfected was Katie’s recipe for pie crust, it was the best. Judy always took pride in baking her pies,
and she never made a bad one. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In August of 1953 John and Judy welcomed their firstborn, a
son, Andrew Benjamin. They were so
proud, Judy’s heart filled in a way that she never had known before, and Andy filled her heart with that same love and
joy until her final breath.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In November of 1957 they welcomed their second child, a
daughter, Katherine Louise. Once again,
Kathy filled a part of Judy’s heart and made it full. She was a friend and constant companion to
Kathy her entire life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In 1959, John and
Judy bought their second farm in Borden, and made a home to raise their young
family in. They grew crops of corn, had
a beautiful garden, raised piglets and cows.
John worked the land of a morning, and would drive to GE where he worked
second shift. Judy took a job at the
Borden post office sorting the morning mail and would continue to work there
until her retirement in the early 1990’s.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They enjoyed Sunday afternoons at Granny Marrs’ home, family
get togethers with the Lewis’ at Joyce
and Pat’s , where everything seemed as if it stepped out of a Norman Rockwell
painting. Camping trips as far as Los
Alamos, New Mexico where they visited Joyce and Jim. They made wonderful memories with their
children, memories that they still carry to this day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Andy and Kathy soon were grown and had families of their
own. The yard was filled with grandchildren
climbing the dogwood tree, playing games of tag, toy trucks in the garden, red
tricycles, a babybuggy filled with
babydolls, and a green LTD and cherry red pinto in the driveway. John and Judy had made a beautiful life
together.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On September 8<sup>th</sup>, 1989 just a year after his
retirement, John suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. Judy was heartbroken and on that same day a
part of Judy died too. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Judy once again found joy in her children and grandchildren,
and weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, and life moved
on. She filled her time with her garden,
growing red ripe tomatoes by the bushel full, going to auctions finding a use
for someone else’s lost treasures, and touring every cemetery within a hundred
mile radius. She watched her
grandchildren grow and flourish, and soon they were grown and starting their
lives and families of their own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In her final years she welcomed great -grandchildren into
the family, and even a few great- granddogs, all whom loved her, and they too brought her happiness and
joy. As her health declined, she enjoyed
sitting on the back deck looking at the fields, visiting with family and
friends, Andy’s constant and devoted companionship, and Saturday shopping trips
and hair do’s with Kathy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They say that in this journey we call life that it’s not the
end or the beginning that matters, but what happens in between that makes it
all worthwhile and gives it meaning.
Judy made her “ in between” count.
She enjoyed life, was fun to be around, had quick wit, and great
humor. She was devoted, and anyone who
knew her loved her spirit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If she were here today she would say not to cry for me, for
I am in Glory where there is no pain and suffering. The soil is rich and the Harvest
plenty. Surrounded by her sisters,
barefoot with the dirt between her toes, walking hand and hand with her beloved
Johnnie. And when she meets the Lord
face to face he will say, well done my good and faithful servant. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-74763049412860204762013-11-20T20:54:00.002-08:002013-11-20T20:54:52.333-08:00ThanksThis is my favorite time of year, Halloween to the New Year. From the smell of the leaves after a cold rain, to the first snow, I love every crazy, busy minute that the season brings.<br />
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The entire month of November I have seen all of the posts on social media every day of the things that people are thankful for. I really enjoy reading them, and although I can't possibly list all of my thanks in 30 facebook posts or one single blog, here is to giving it a try. <br />
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My black Old Navy yoga pants from 2006. They have stuck with me through two pregnancies, and although they are faded, stretched out, and nearly see through, they are still my favorite pants. <br />
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The guy that works the counter at the Speedway on Westport Road by the St Matthews Target. Every morning when I stop in to get my 32 oz diet coke, he smiles, rings me up, and tells me to have a good day. He doesn't act like he rode to work on a unicorn while stopping to rescue a litter of puppies on the side of the road, and for me who isn't a morning person, I'm thankful for his monotone voice and quiet demeanor. <br />
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The Carpool line. I know I complain about it sometimes, but I love being able to pull up to the door of Frankie's school and not to even have to get out of my car. His teachers even unbuckle him out of his car seat, and then they pack in the 10 pounds of backpack he has to take with him as well. They rock!<br />
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While we're talking about them, I'm thankful for teachers. There is one job in this world that I would not want to have, and that is being a teacher. That says a lot, because in my job I clean up poop, deal with all kinds of body fluids, smells, etc etc. Their dedication to my children and their well being is to be commended. Especially Frankie's teachers. They love him, nurture him, and are giving us hope that we once thought we didn't have.<br />
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TV shows like Hoarders and websites like the people of Wal-Mart. Even on my worst day, when I look like holy hell and I have laundry stacked on top of the dining room table to the chandelier, they make me feel just a little bit better.<br />
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Jimmy Johns. Because while the kids are perfectly fine eating leftovers from two days ago, I'm over it. Also, because they bring my Pepe without tomato and with hot peppers to my doorstep freaky fast.<br />
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Barney, Dora, The Backyardigans, Mickey Mouse, and any other character on Nickelodeon or Sprout. This entire gang of a holes as annoying as they are, have given me the opportunity to shower, wash my hair, shave my legs, feed my facebook habit, and have a phone conversation over the past six years. Thank you, Thank you very much.<br />
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The surprise phone call from my hubby during the afternoon in between patients. Although we only talk for a minute, to hear his voice and to share a funny story, it makes my day. <br />
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Speaking of my husband, I'm so thankful for my better half. He is one of the most hard working, dedicated individuals I know. He trained for 14 years to enter into a profession where he works 60-80 hours a week. He misses doctor visits, birthday parties, holidays, school plays, etc etc to help other people's loved ones live. On the days he gets home before bedtime, he always drops everything and rescues our little rug rats and gives me a break. He loves me for me, and he still gives me butterflies. He just makes life better. My how I love him!<br />
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My children. Olivia is sweet, spunky, caring, and so inquisitive. She was my firstborn, she was the baby that was held every waking minute of the day, rushed to the pediatrician at the first sign of a sniffle, and the person who literally changed my life. My Frankie, well, he is the cutest little boy I've ever laid eyes on. His blonde curls and smile can literally melt your heart. He loves like no child I have ever been around. I don't know if it is because he can't express himself with words, so he uses his actions, or if it is just because he is so sweet. Either way, he has my heart, as well as all those who know him. My children although they wear me out sometimes, are wonderful. They make life worth living and are the most precious gifts I've ever received.<br />
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My parents. I'm thankful for the things that they taught me, and for the examples they set. I'm thankful for discipline when needed and love all the time. I'm thankful for the Sunday mornings when I was a teenager, where they would wake me up and make me go to church. I'm thankful for every softball game, basketball game, band concert, etc etc where they were front and center cheering me on. I'm thankful for meals together, advice, and now their friendship. They are pretty awesome. <br />
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My extended family. My brothers, in-laws, Aunts, Uncles, and cousins. My brothers are three of the best guys I know. Chad, well he was my big brother, and hero. I always wanted to be just like him growing up, I even tried to stand up and pee once, because I thought if he could do it, I could too. Zach, my baby brother, he was like my first baby because he was so much younger than me. He was the first person who introduced me to my dislike of Barney. Andrei, even though he is technically Bobby's brother, I think of him as my brother as well. He has loved me and welcomed me to his family from day one, and I love him for that. All three of them also have awesome women in their lives whom I love dearly. The rest of my family, well they are awesome. Their love and friendship is something that is rare, and I know how blessed I am to have them. <br />
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My friends. Some of the most wonderful blessings in my life are the handful of friends that I consider family. They are truly golden, they are constant, and they love and support me at my best and my worst. I can't imagine trying to navigate all of life's twists and turns without them by my side.<br />
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Last, but not least, my faith. My hope in something greater than this life. The promise that I am never alone, and the comfort of someone who I can cast all of life's burdens on, because he cares for me. His mercies are new every morning, and his love endures all things. He has given me all of these things that I have to be thankful for. Thank you Lord!<br />
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<br />Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-60284095929919542302013-03-25T12:50:00.000-07:002013-03-25T12:56:48.129-07:00The Best DayOn a crisp March weekend in this part of the country, it can only mean one thing, March Madness. People frantically trying to fill out brackets, watching each game closely and cheering their favorite college team on. This year though, in our little town, people were less concerned about their NCAA tourney bracket and focused on something greater. We were playing for the Indiana High School State Championship. Well wishes, players names and numbers, and red and black adorned yards and signs all across town. Pep sessions, t-shirts, news stories, and articles in the paper put our town of 800 on the big stage for the first time. People relished in the atmosphere, showed their pride and school spirit, and for the first time felt like something great was in our grasp, and that we finally would get our storybook ending. <br />
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Driving up I 65 Saturday morning as the sun was coming up, my family and I were caravaning to the big game. I have attended state finals before, but never to watch my hometown team. I can remember seeing the other schools there, the excitement they had, and it only seemed like a dream that I would ever be there rooting on our beloved Braves. Now here we are, on our way to cheer on our team, it was our turn, and our time to shine. Other cars passed us on the road, flags flying, horns honking. Stopping at a rest area, seeing people donned in red and black giving each other high fives and hugs, the day had finally come for our team, our school, and our community. <br />
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Hearing the roar of the crowd when the team took the floor, and listening to the sweet melody of "Back Home Again in Indiana" before the game started brought so much emotion to the surface. I am sure that emotion was palpable for everyone in the crowd who called Borden home. From the tip off to the final horn, our kids played hard and confident. They hit big shots and at times, it almost looked like the angels of Borden past were up there giving them a little tap, just at the right moment. In the final seconds of the game when it was apparent we were going to win, I turned around and looked at the crowd. Thousands of people there for our team, our town. The horn sounded, the team celebrated and I think that everyone from Borden had to wipe back the tears that flowed. It was a moment of pure joy, a moment that I know I will never forget. You see, I've said it before, and I will say it again, it was about so much more than a game. It was about a group of boys that while working together on one of the family's farm last summer decided that they were going to win a state championship. It showed each kid in the crowd that with hard work and determination, the sky is the limit and that they too can do great things both on and off the court. It showed the Borden community that years of rallying around and supporting the school, even when times weren't great was all worth it. It showed everyone else what we have all known for a long time, that our community and school is relevant, that we have something special that is hard to find. It showed that people of the past who are no longer with us, that their hard work and dedication to Borden and the school lives on and has not been forgotten. It was amazing. It was the best day, and a moment I will cherish.<br />
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After the game the team headed to the bus carrying their state championship trophy to head back home. Amidst the charter buses of every other school there that day stood our little yellow bus. Our humble coaches and team carried the trophy onto the bus and headed south, having accomplished the goal that they and so many others have dreamed of long ago. They were welcomed home as heroes. The town and surrounding communities stopped, and watched a parade of fire trucks, police cars, and fans ushering that little yellow bus down the highway into town. People lined up by the road for miles, not only from Borden, but our neighbors who supported us along the way. Tears flowed again because at that moment to everyone there, Borden was the center of the universe. It was a homecoming that even Hollywood couldn't orchestrate.<br />
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Some people say that this is the end to our fairytale, our Cinderella story, but I beg to differ. It is the end to a chapter, a great chapter, and the story will go on, and these kids and this team will be legends, as they should be. Not only did they represent what we are all about, but they brought a town together and solidified what we have always known. Our pillars of faith, family, and community are what makes this place so special.<br />
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There was a sign on the edge of town for years that said "Welcome to Borden, a small town with a big future". They were right, and our future is bright.<br />
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I believe, I believe, I believe that we have won...STATE!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-28253848551344853092013-03-19T12:04:00.000-07:002013-03-19T12:05:27.930-07:00No place like homeOver the span of my thirty one years of life, I consider myself to be a very blessed person. I have a loving God, wonderful husband, two beautiful children, an amazing extended family, church family, and friends. I am educated, I love my profession, and I have a job that I enjoy. Upon thinking about all of these things, one of the blessings that I am most thankful for is my hometown, the place where I grew up, and where my roots are firmly embedded. <br />
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I'm sure when most people talk about their hometown, they feel a sense of pride and nostalgia. It has a place in their hearts, it is special, it is home. To some people Borden, Indiana is nothing more than a small dot, that doesn't even make some maps. A town that consists of a caution light, one gas station, churches on every end of town, and most recently a coffee shop and a Subway (which is a big deal). Our school is one building, consisting of students K-12. People make the joke that if you blink when driving through town, you'll miss it! This weekend our Boys Varsity Basketball team will make history, and will be playing in their first ever State Finals Championship game. What most don't understand is that this weekend is about so much more than a basketball game. <br />
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Borden is a community that usually only makes the news when tragedy strikes. Whether it be an accident on Hwy 60 that intersects town, or tornadoes that have now affected our community for a third time, you rarely hear the good news about how wonderful this little farm town in the valley really is.<br />
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My roots go back multiple generations. My parents, grandparents, and great grandparents have all called Borden home. My Grandmother had either a child or grandchild in the Borden school for 50 years straight. This is just one family, and there are many, many more. It is a community that loves thy neighbor in every sense. Last year when the tornado of March 2nd hit Daisy Hill, the community came together and helped those who were affected. The Boy's Basketball team even helped with the clean up. That is who we are, and that is what we do. We love our school too. <br />
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I can remember in elementary school saying the Pledge of Allegiance every morning before class started. I think of teachers like Jo Ann Wright, where we would sing every day before class, even sing a special song about Borden, Indiana that she wrote. Mrs. Wynn, she not only taught me, but she taught my parents too, as did so many other teachers. Whether we sat in the pews next to them on Sunday morning, were friends with their own children, or they were our coaches , our teachers cared for each and every single one of us. Only now do I realize how wonderful that was, having to send my children to a school where I don't know who is influencing them. It is very scary for me, and I long to have the feeling of community that I once had growing up in Borden and attending school there. <br />
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I have lived in other places, and have traveled far and wide, and I can honestly say that there is no place like home. On any given Friday night during basketball season, a town with a population of 800 will fill a gym that seats 2000 almost to capacity to watch a ball game. There is nothing better than watching the team roll into town accompanied by the fire truck after winning the big game, with a caravan of fans following in their cars, and people standing on their porches waving. It isn't just something written for the Hollywood movie, "Hoosiers", it is a way of life here. My grandpa said it best when he told us that he had been many places, but no place was better than the bottom of Daisy Hill. Living in Louisville, I choose to drive 30 miles each Sunday morning, passing many churches along the way, just to go to my little country church that I grew up in, and that my parents and grandparents grew up in as well. It is important that even though we don't physically live in the community because of circumstances beyond control, that my kids still feel at home there, and that the roots continue to grow deep in their hearts as well.<br />
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Whether you are a transplant, or whether you have shopped at Brewer's and Randall Martin's store, there is no better place. Whether you picked berries on the hill for a nickel a gallon, hauled watermelons and cantaloupes for the Kirchgessners, or pitched hay for Frankie Brown, there is no better place. <br />
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This Saturday our Boys will do something that Borden players of the past, both boys and girls have only dreamed of. Finally we are not in the shadow of our larger neighboring schools, it is our chance to shine. It has been a long time coming, and a foundation that was set decades ago. A foundation that is strong, based on faith, family, community. From Daisy Hill to Jackson Road, from Starlight to Martinsburg Knob. From Deam Lake past Dow Knob, down the valley into town, the Borden faithful from far and wide will ascend on Indy and Bankers Life Fieldhouse to cheer on their beloved Braves. Win or Loose, these kids and this community are winners. We have grown up in such a wonderful place and have the privilege of calling it home.<br />
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Alabama may have football, California may have surfers and sunbathers, but this is Indiana High school basketball, and it doesn't get much better than this! In the words of Merle Webb in the movie Hoosiers, "Let's win this game for all the small schools that never had a chance to get here." <br />
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How bout them Braves?Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-61278231219709466252012-09-25T12:15:00.000-07:002012-09-25T12:15:57.399-07:00Rainy DayToday is just one of those days. A day where you want to crawl back under the covers, and sleep your worries away with the rain drops. In running my daily car pool this morning, trying to get everyone where they needed to be, I had a million things on my mind. I need to get to they gym, what will I make for dinner, making out invitations for the bridal shower, etc etc. I would have given my life savings for just one more day on the beach where all I had to worry about was keeping Frankie from getting too much sand in his eyes, and making sure Liv had enough sun screen on. Reality was slapping me in the face though, and I didn't like it, not one bit.<br />
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I have to confess, vacation made me think about just how hard the past 18 months has been for our family. It is the first time that things have slowed down enough for my mind to wrap around everything and try to process it all. This was a double edged sword, because although it allowed us to relax for a period of time, it also allowed everything to really, really sink in. For me it has brought emotions to the surface, emotions that I have been ignoring for quite some time. <br />
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I am mad. I am worried. I am scared. I am exhausted. Now, I know that all of these are negative, and yes, I am also happy, excited, and hopeful. The positive ones are easy to show, but the others, they tend to stay hidden deep down in a place that only I am allowed to visit. All of this time, I have tried to keep a positive attitude, to look at all of the good things, while deep inside, the negative ones have been slowly chipping away at my spirit. I need to be honest with others, and most importantly myself. <br />
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I'm mad. I'm mad that my boy, my beautiful, blond headed, brown eyed, baby boy has Autism. I want to know why he has it, what has caused it, and what I can do to make it better. I want to know why he has to try so hard to master simple tasks. I want to know why he can't do or experience all of the things that his sister can. It is true. All parents who have a child with a disability always tries to let their child do and experience everything that other kids get to do, but I'm just being brutally honest, sometimes you can't. I can't take Frankie to a place like Chuck e Cheese, it is a painful experience for him. I can't take him to a bunch of ball games, because the crowd and the noise, it is just too much for his little sensory system to try to process. Birthday parties, they are supposed to be fun, but we usually have to leave before they even cut the cake because all of the kids overwhelm him. Yes, we try to do everything that he can, but some things he just can't do, not yet. <br />
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I'm worried. I'm worried about Frankie, and all of his treatments, therapies, etc etc. I'm worried about Liv. I'm worried because we have to devote so much time and effort toward Frankie, that she will feel left out. That she may get over looked at times, because we are focusing on her brother. Trying to balance raising more than one child is difficult even when everything is perfect, but when one child has a problem, it magnifies it even more. <br />
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I'm scared. I'm scared that things may not get much better than they are right now. Frankie is making huge progress, and is doing well, but that doesn't give us the green light that all will eventually be OK. No therapist, No doctor, No teacher has ever said that everything will be alright, and that he will be able to grow and experience life just like everyone else. They say that we are on the right track, that we are seeing positive things, but they never tell you that your kid will be a good case. They don't know, and we don't either. <br />
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I'm exhausted. I am tired from worrying, from staying up at night, wondering what I will do tomorrow to make things easier for my boy. Having therapists in my house almost everyday of the week. Trying to take Liv to extracurricular activities to make her feel as important as her brother. Trying to keep a constant eye on Frankie, because at any given moment he may be climbing up the outside of the staircase to the top, or unlocking the door and running out into the street, or trying to jump in the creek, or eating the end of the pacifier. Constantly putting things in his mouth, pooping out beads off of Livi's purse, you name it, he has done it. <br />
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Maybe it is because today is a rainy, gloomy day, and my mood is the same, or maybe I felt like I had to get all of this off my chest and out in the open. I feel though that I need to be honest about this journey. There are people that ask my opinions on their children who are going through this process, and they need to know that it does stink sometimes. It isn't all happy and positive thoughts. It is a struggle some days to make it to the end of the day without crying at least once. Then there are the good days. The days where Frankie will do something new, or say a word, just one word. Where he climbs in my lap and kisses my face a hundred times, because that is how he tells me he loves me. The days where he and Livi play together, and laugh out loud at each other. The days where she is concerned about his every move, just like a mother hen. The days where daddy gets home before dark, and we can all eat dinner together. Those are good days. <br />
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Being a parent isn't easy, in fact, it is pretty freaking hard. It is hard whether your kid is normal, or if your kid isn't. It is hard whether you work full time or stay at home. As hard as it is, it also is wonderful, exciting, and filled with joy that just overflows my cup. If I could make my baby better, I would in a heart beat. The people who say that they wouldn't change a thing, they are really lying. I would make things easier for Frankie in a second if I could. I didn't chose this for my child, but I have to trust that the Lord knew best when he gave Frankie to me. He has filled my heart in a way that I never knew was possible. He captivates everyone he is around. I LOVE him just the way he is.<br />
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Tomorrow will be another day, and it could rain and pour, or just maybe the sun will come out. Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-30593264233593213202012-06-04T13:50:00.000-07:002012-06-04T13:50:27.371-07:00Finding Joy: Where the heck is she?While sitting in a huge line of traffic on I 71 the other day, I was a little more than irritated. I had one kid in the back seat licking the last of the sucker that was keeping him occupied while in this traffic nightmare, while the other was screaming at the top of her lungs that she had to pee and could not wait another minute. After 15 minutes of crying that she was literally going to pee her pants in the car seat, I decided that since I had not moved in 10 minutes, I would jump out, open the van door, and let her pee right there on the side of the interstate. I really didn't care that all 5,000 cars in the line behind us would see this wonderful example of parenting, I was just praying that the news chopper circling above us would not show it on live TV. Door open, squat, pee, back in car seat in about 40 seconds. Any mom would give me a big round of applause for this feat, because we all know how freaking hard it is to unbuckle and buckle car seats while under pressure. After getting back in the drivers seat, I sat there, frustrated that I was stuck in this traffic jam and having a little pity party for myself. For the first time in a long time, I literally just let it all out, and started to cry right there. How had life become so difficult? Why can't we catch a break? Why is the semi in front of me not moving? Where is my silver flippin' lining? I never knew that bumper to bumper traffic could be so eye opening.<br />
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This past year has been difficult to say the least. I keep hearing that things will get better, and that they will get easier. Guess what? They really haven't, at least not as much as I thought it would. The constant worry of Frankie has already taken a toll on me. I know that some may not understand this, but literally everyday, 100 times a day, I think about when or if he will talk. If he will ever call me Mommy? If he will be able to grow and learn like his sister? Will he be able to be a "normal" kid? Will he be able to grow up and have a family of his own someday? The list goes on and on. I know that I should not worry right now if he will be able to play soccer with the other kids, that I should think about today, but it is challenging. I have literally been in a hole that seems to be impossible to climb out of. Yes, people, I am having a big pity party.<br />
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This morning I was reading a devotional and it was talking about joy. As I was reading it made me think of a verse that I memorized a long time ago in my summer church camp days.<br />
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"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:2-4<br />
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I'm not one that usually "preaches" on my blogs, but this is my blog, and it was so profound to me. It was speaking directly to my heart. It confirmed to me that right now may be difficult, but that there is a light at the end of this tunnel. Not only that, but it made me look at all of the things that are good and wonderful in our lives right now, and that finding joy isn't quite as hard as I have been making it. <br />
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As I was pulling in the parking lot picking up Frankie from school recently I noticed a beat up clunker of a car parking beside me. The mom quickly got out and opened the trunk and took a wheelchair out of the back. She hurried over to the passenger side in the back seat, where she got her little girl out, and put her in the wheelchair and was quickly pushing her in, because it was starting to rain. Here I sat in my brand new mini van that has plenty of room, and I got my little boy out of his car seat, and he ran inside the building while trying to jump in every mud puddle on the sidewalk. What a cry baby I have been. My baby may not be able to talk, but he can run, play, jump, etc etc. Joy was standing in the parking lot that morning. <br />
Joy was in my bed this morning, poking me in the ear, and giving me tons of loves. Frankie gives me the biggest kisses and hugs every morning. It is his way of saying "Good morning, Mommy!" <br />
Joy was in the traffic jam the other day too. The fact that I didn't have to clean out pee from the car seat and that I found one more sucker in the bottom of my purse to keep my kids happy. <br />
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Finding the positive in challenges is difficult a lot of the time. Trying to be happy when you just don't feel like it is hard. Everyday though, I am going to wake up and try to find Joy, where ever the heck she may be!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-82293307414136051292012-03-20T12:14:00.000-07:002012-03-20T12:14:45.138-07:00ChallengesEver have those days where you feel like your parenting skills are at an all time low? Where it doesn't matter what you do something always goes wrong? It seems to me that I have been in this slump for about two months now.<br />
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Since finding out that Frankie has Autism it has been very hard for Bobby and I as parents. I still can't talk about it much because I always tear up and my emotions are still so raw. Everyday I have to tell myself over and over that today is going to be a good day, and sometimes it is, other times it isn't. I think as parents no matter what is going on with our children, we all have those days. Trying to be positive and trusting that things are going to be alright is much easier said than done. I feel like I am at a crossroads right now, trying to decide what path to take, knowing all along that no matter which way I choose that there could be both positive and negative outcomes for my child.<br />
Which therapies do we chose? Where do we send him to school? Which school is the best? The list goes on and on. It is so difficult for me to grasp at times that this isn't a problem that I can fix. Being a nurse and Bobby being a physician, we are used to problems that most of the time have solutions. We are accustomed to having a treatment plan for every ailment. Take this pill and it will help the problem, or have this surgery and it will fix the problem. With Autism there is no one treatment. There are so many different opinions from different professionals about what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. I can talk to three different therapists about a plan of care, and all three will give me different answers.<br />
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I am trying on a daily basis to find a silver lining in this situation, but there are days when it is incredibly hard. We have to trust that the decisions that we make are educated ones, that have been carefully made. We have to pray and trust that what we are doing is right. If it isn't, then we will learn and try again. I want to see immediate results. If I give someone who is in pain a shot of Dilaudid, I know in a short time if it has been effective or not. It is human nature to want instant gratification, we live in a society where we can fly across country in just a few short hours, where we can talk on the phone while picking up the dry cleaning. It has taken months for us to start to see positive progress in Frankie's therapies. It is positive though, and that is all that matters.<br />
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I want to continue to ask each and every one of you to continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers. I can't tell you how many well wishes, notes of encouragement, kind words, etc etc that we have received. Thank you so much for the support. When I look at my Frankie, he literally melts my heart and breaks it at the same time. I at times wonder what he is thinking, if he understands certain things. There is one thing for sure that he understands, that is Love. He is the most loving child I have ever been around. The hugs and slobbery kisses that I get at least a 100 times a day helps me deal with all of the challenges we face. Hearing the occasional" wuv woo"makes me want to do a cartwheel! I am so thankful for this wonderful child.Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-82185565093298828252012-01-23T12:03:00.000-08:002012-01-23T12:03:25.804-08:00The hardest words to hear...All too often we use facebook and blogs to keep up with long lost friends, we share cute things our kids do, or what we eat for lunch. We open up on the surface, but we don't talk about what is really going on in our lives. Although I don't think that sharing my most intimate thoughts and feelings with hundreds of friends is appropriate, I am opening up about a struggle in my life. Not because I want sympathy, or because I want everyone to know my business. It is because my family is beginning a journey that will be lifelong, with an incredible amount of dedication and hard work ahead of us. I need the insight of others to take this on. I have some incredible friends who may have advice and knowledge that I do not. I feel vulnerable, I am fearful. I am a mother that would do anything for my child.<br />
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Every parent can empathize with the feelings and worries that you go through when expecting a child. You want your baby to be perfect in every way. As a mom you try to eat all the right things, you follow every doctors order. You can't wait for your bundle of joy to arrive, but the anticipation and anxiety for a healthy child doesn't go away until you have that sweet baby in your arms. You count ten fingers and ten toes, they are good and pink, all is well. You breathe a sigh of relief, you got them here healthy. Everyone in the family tells you how beautiful the baby is, they look like daddy, grandpa, great uncle Bob...and on and on. You go home all clad in blue, happy to begin this wonderful life with a new member in the family. Everything is perfect, or so you think...<br />
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When Frankie was almost four weeks old, he gave us quite a scare. He was hospitalized for pertussis (whooping cough). Pertussis is a very dangerous childhood disease, and in a newborn can be fatal. After almost a week, we were in the clear though, and Frankie got to come home on a breathing monitor, but was doing fine. Again, we breathed another sigh of relief. <br />
Life went on and Frankie seemed to grow and develop like any other baby boy. It wasn't until almost a year later that I began to notice that something wasn't quite right.<br />
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When you have the second baby, automatically you compare their growth and development to the first child. Livi didn't walk until the week of her first birthday, but Frankie was walking at 10 months old. We thought that we were ahead of the curve. I then started to notice some differences though. His inability to pay attention to toys, his dislike of loud noises, he didn't follow simple commands like "get your cup" or "bring me that toy". He wasn't speaking, but that didn't concern me as much because Livi didn't talk until later. We live in a bi lingual home, so that is typical for children to speak later. Then we got to 18 months old, and I started to notice that he can count to 10, but he doesn't wave Bye Bye...he doesn't look at me and call me "mommy". I knew in my heart then that something was wrong. I expressed my concerns to others but I got the typical answers, "He's just a rambunctious boy", "boys talk later than girls". Then I questioned myself, "Am I overreacting"? I'm a nurse, my husband is a doctor, we should know what to do...That all goes out the window when it is your child. The child you carried for nine months, the child that you love so much you would do anything for. Then we did the right thing, we acted like parents, and we went with our gut feeling. He was our baby, and we knew him better than anyone. <br />
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We entered the First Steps program when Frankie was 20 months old. He went through a series of evaluations and qualified for speech and occupational therapy. We still didn't have any solid answers, but we had a plan in place to help our boy. Over the next few months we began intensive therapies, at first, the progress was slow. It became more evident though to others that in fact we were doing the right thing and that there were in fact delays. <br />
We are now almost a year into therapies, and we are starting to see some great progress. Although his speech is still very delayed, he is starting to begin to use a few more words. His social interaction has drastically improved, but there is still so much more work to be done. <br />
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Over the past two months Frankie has went through some very intensive evaluations with the best professionals in the area. On Friday we finally got a diagnosis. Frankie has Autism. <br />
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There are no words to describe the feelings that you have when you hear those words. In our minds we both knew that it was likely, but in our hearts we were holding onto the hope that it wasn't so. Later that afternoon I was laying in the bed with him watching him nap and I realized that this was the beginning of an incredibly hard task, that would last a lifetime. A task that I never expected, but at the same time realized that I had to step up to the plate. My child will have to try 10 times harder than other kids just to master simple tasks such as saying "mommy". We will have to be dedicated as parents like never before to do everything that we can in order to help our child. <br />
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I look at this beautiful, sweet, loving baby boy and he absolutely melts my heart. His smile can light up a room, and his energy is felt by everyone around him. His eyes are bright with a sparkle that immediately gets your attention. He is a gift, he is wonderful, and he is mine. He is LOVED. <br />
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I am asking that you will help us in this journey, with prayer, advice, and encouragement. I am typically a private person, but I will do all that I can to help my child. We are blessed to have the best therapists and schools. Our family is incredible. The next step is to continue to bombard him with therapies, and be educated on the path that we need to take, as well as more testing. Again, please keep us in your thoughts, this is the beginning of a journey that is going to be incredibly hard, especially for my perfect boy. Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-67713658610601977052011-10-12T11:30:00.000-07:002011-10-12T11:30:49.253-07:0035+The year was 1976, it was a rain drenched day in October. They say that rain on your wedding day is good luck, right? That must be true because on October 23rd, my parents will celebrate 35 years of wedded bliss. <br />
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I love to look at my parents wedding pictures. My dad in his tan tuxedo with a peach bow tie, ruffled shirt and all. My mom with the 1970's long black "Cher hair", complete with a form fitting empire waist gown. They look so happy. They look like kids, in fact, they really were. My mom was 18, and my dad had just turned 20 the week before. I went away to college at 18 and didn't even know how to make spaghetti, let alone be ready to get married!<br />
My dad said that when they got married they had $500, his Monte carlo, and a house with an outside crapper. Of course, I wasn't around in the winters of the late 70's, but from what I hear, they were horrendous. It was so cold in the little house they lived in that they had frost on the inside of the windows...Burrrrrr! (I can't get over the outside crapper, it must have been so cold!)<br />
They both worked full time, but lived on one income and saved every penny of the other paycheck. My dad walked to work, my mom used the only car they had because she worked in town. They saved enough money to buy my late great grandfather's house, it had one bedroom, but it did have an indoor crapper, so it was an upgrade for sure! <br />
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Two years later my brother Chad came along, and I followed two years after that. My dad worked for the railroad and was away from home much of the time. After I was born, we moved to Corbin, KY, only about three hours away from home for my dad's job, and you would have thought that they moved cross country. My mom said that it was horrible to have two babies and not to be around family. A few months later, my dad got laid off from the railroad. They called my family that day, and in the ice and snow, they moved my parents back home in one afternoon and evening. They were so happy to be back, even though they didn't have jobs. They were home. After some hard times, my dad was fortunate to get a job at Colgate Palmolive less than a year later. He worked there until they closed the doors in 2007 and he took an early retirement. <br />
My mom was a stay at home mommy. She cleaned houses on the side, and she would take us with her. When I went to kindergarten, my mom went back to school. She cleaned houses during the day, and went to class of an evening. I can remember her staying awake all night studying, and then do it all over the following day. She finished school and got a good job, and all was well...<br />
When I was 11, and my brother was 13, my mom and dad got the surprise of their lives when she got pregnant with my little brother. It wasn't exactly the plan that they had hoped for, but the Lord, along with some shotty birth control, brought us Zach. After Zach was born for the first two years, my mom sacrificed her job to stay at home with him, just like she had with us. My parents had a freshman in college, a senior in high school, and a kindergartner. <br />
Years went by, Chad and I finished school, I got married, and they became grandparents. Zach graduated high school this past spring.<br />
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When I look back and think about my mom and dad, what they have endured through the years in their marriage, and that they are still together and still are in LOVE with each other, it makes me proud. It is easy to give up when times are hard, but instead they have always taken the path less traveled. Some might wonder what the key to a good marriage is, what made them stay together for all these years?<br />
I know that they both had strong examples of what marriage and family means. They never spent one night apart unless one was in the hospital, my dad never "slept on the couch" because they had an argument. If they disagreed about something they would discuss it, and agree to disagree. They kept faith and family at the center of their lives. They never disrespected each other, they simply loved each other more than themselves. They were a united front as parents. They disciplined when necessary, and they loved at all times. They never missed a ball practice, band competition, baseball game, basketball game, etc etc. They were front and center of it all. My house was the house that all the kids wanted to be at, and my mom always fixed dinner for a few extras. <br />
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Looking back and thinking about the most important thing that my parents have taught me, it has to be COMMITMENT. Their commitment to each other in their marriage, their commitment as parents, as employees, as a family, and most of all, their commitment in their faith. It is simple, you show up, and you do your best. <br />
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Thank you mom and dad. You made it to 35, and here is to 35 more, and an indoor crapper!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-90036907507228899702011-04-03T22:26:00.000-07:002011-04-03T22:26:24.826-07:00swagger wagonThere are two things in life that I said I would never do. I would NEVER wear "granny panties" and I would NEVER drive a mini van. I have come to learn something recently, NEVER say NEVER! <br />
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When I was in college and still living at home, my granny would come over a few afternoons a week and help my mom with the mountain of laundry that was always in the laundry room in the basement. Granny and mom would always laugh at me and tell me that there would be a day when the leopard print thongs that lined my underwear drawer would be replaced with "granny panties". We all know what they are. I had volleyball shorts that covered less skin than a pair of control top hanes. Funny that now almost ten years later, marriage, and two kids, the leopard print thongs are in the bottom of the drawer buried underneath the control top panties. <br />
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A few weeks ago Bobby was involved in a serious car accident. Thank the Lord that his injuries were minor, but my old civic had driven her last mile. Cars can be replaced, but my husband can't! The first few days after the accident we had to decide what we were going to do about a new vehicle. Bobby and I aren't the kind of people who buys a new car every few years. We drive them until the wheels fall off, or if they no longer serve their purpose. We decided that instead of buying a new smaller sedan for him to drive, that it would make more sense to upgrade the family vehicle. I love my CRV, but after you fit two car seats, and all of the gear that goes along with two babies, there is barley room for anyone else in the car. So, the race was on to find an appropriate family vehicle. <br />
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When Bobby and I were dating we made a bet one night, one that both of us remember quite vividly! I said that I would NEVER drive a mini van, I didn't care if I had to tie the kids down to the roof of the car, that I was not going to drive one. Let's just say that he stood to benefit greatly if he won the bet. While driving on the lot to look at the larger SUV's, the wager was fresh on my mind. I thought to myself, I am not going to lose this bet, I am not going to be the "soccer mom". After looking at the larger SUV's I learned something very quickly, they aren't much bigger than what I drive now, and the ones that are cost as much as a small house. My image isn't worth 60k! Discouraged, I looked at Bobby and I said, "Let's just go and look at the mini vans." His eyes lit up with excitement and at that very moment I knew exactly what he was thinking. He knew that he was on the verge of winning a bet! The wonderful husband that he is, he told me, "Babe, we don't have to look at them, I know that you don't want to drive one". The sensible "mommy" inside of me was telling me otherwise. I knew that it was the best option, I just didn't want to admit it. I decided to test drive it because I knew that I was going to hate it and that would end the debate really fast. I got behind the wheel, and I fell in love. It was so nice, and it was so spacious. It was so much cheaper than the Tahoe that I had my eye on. It was the right choice to make, but I was having such a hard time convincing myself that it was OK. It is a double whammy...turning 30 and buying a mini van in the same year. It is like they just put another pair of "granny panties" in the top of the underwear drawer and I might as well just go out and buy my daily women's multivitamins. I'm turning in my cute coach clutch for the over sized mommy bag! I had been trying to avoid it, and convince myself for the past three years that I'm not getting older, and that I am just as cool as I used to be. Those days are long gone. <br />
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After a few days of haggling with the salesmen over pricing, I finally was driving off the lot in my new mini van. I had a small breakdown, and Bob was grinning ear to ear. I technically had lost the bet, but I realized something, I really had won. I have everything that I have ever wanted. I have a wonderful husband who loves me unconditionally, I have the two best babies a mommy could ask for. I have a job that I love. I have a family who surrounds me with love and support like no other. I have a faith that can move mountains. What else could I possibly want or need, I have it all.<br />
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It is amazing to me that in the act of buying a car, I had come to such an epiphany about my life. I am adjusting to my new role as the eternal soccer mom, but I have decided that I am going to rock out my mini van and be the coolest mom in the neighborhood. After all, I was the kid that had the parents that always had extra kids for dinner every night. I was the kid who had the dad that coached baseball and basketball for 26 years now. I was the kid that had a mom that made the effort for us to eat together as a family every night of the week. If this is what being a "soccer mom" is all about, then I'm in it for the long haul. <br />
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I haven't went out and bought a bumper sticker or the stick figurines of the entire family, including the cat just yet, but I will make turning 30 look good while wearing my control top "granny panties" and cruising in my swagger wagon. <br />
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ps. for those of you who don't know about the swagger wagon, go to YouTube and type in swagger wagon and watch the video...hilarious!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-14965818413499451042011-02-28T13:32:00.000-08:002011-02-28T13:32:20.777-08:00Journey for a lifetimeRemember when you were newlyweds how fun and exciting it was? Everything was fresh and new. Vacations, romantic dinners, long drives to nowhere, they were fun times. Then you decide "Let's have a baby"! Then those times seem like a distant memory in a life long ago. For a split second we thought that it was a great idea, then we changed our minds...God had a different plan though, and after less than a week of "trying" Olivia was already on her way! <br />
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As a woman not all, but most of us dream of the day that we start a family. We create this glamouous image and plan of how everything is going to happen, and when in reality, things never really do go exactly as we had imagined it. <br />
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From the moment I saw the pink plus sign on the five different pregnancy tests sitting in a shot glass filled with pee on the back on my toliet, my life has never been the same. After calling my husband and telling him that he needed to come home from work NOW, we decided that the 99% accuracy of the home pregnancy test was not enough, so we headed to the hospital at midnight to have a friend draw my blood to make for certain. I didn't sleep at all, the next morning I woke up early and drove straight to my parents house. When I walked in the door my mom was standing in the kitchen and I told her that I had some news. Her reply, " You're pregnant aren't you? I told you to wait awhile before you did that!" Of course, my mom quickly warmed up to the idea and is the best "Gi Gi" that I know. <br />
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I immediatly went out and bought all of the pregnancy books I could find. I was going to do EVERYTHING that the books said, and I was going to embrace this wonderful miracle that my body was going through. Three weeks later it happened, I woke up one afternoon after working all night, and I had this nauseating feeling come over my body like a wave. My body knew this feeling, it felt exactly like a bad hangover. Great, not only are my boobs so sore I can't even look at them, I feel like I had one too many martinis last night. Everyone told me, " It will get better, morning sickness only lasts a few weeks". They LIED. At my next OB appointment I had lost 7 lbs. What the heck? I could starve myself before I was preggo and never lose a pound, get me knocked up, an instant weight loss plan. After 9 months of listening to people tell me how wonderful their pregnancy was, how they had never felt better, I literally was nauseated at their stories. I puked everyday, was hospitalized twice, and was so over this "amazing experience". <br />
The day had finally come, and I had a plan of how I wanted my delivery to go. Olivia had a different plan. 36 hours later I was lying on an operating table looking into the eyes of my sweet daughter. It was love at first sight, and it was worth every time that I puked, including twice during my c-section. She was here, she was healthy, and no matter how she got here, or how much I really didn't embrace my pregnancy, the end reward was life altering and mind blowing. We were responsible for this tiny life, she depended on us completly, then without warning, before the pain meds wore off, the anxiety set in. How are we going to do this? What will I do if I can't get her to stop crying? etc etc. A beautiful experience and time had now became a constant worry from the very first day. After another three exhausting days in the hospital, struggling with breastfeeding, going on no sleep at all, they bring you discharge papers to sign, and the prize is this tiny little baby, strapped in car seat, ready to go home in your care. That was the longest drive of our lives, probably it had something to do with the fact that Bobby drove about 20 miles an hour on the interstate because of the new, precious cargo that we had on board. When we arrived home, it was a relief to see my mom's car in the driveway. She was there, she had came to my rescue. I had never been so glad to see my mom in my life. The first few days were rough, as they always are with a newborn. Sleep deprivation, coming to terms with the fact that I had my stomach cut open from side to side, and that just getting out of bed was a challenge. Not to mention the fact that no one tells you what it feels like when your milk comes in. Engorged, blisters, really? What happened to the book saying that women never looked more beautiful than they do when they are a nursing mother. Really? You got to be freaking kidding me! They make it look so easy, but for me it was so hard. Finally I came to the conclusion that the breast pump was my best friend, and continued to be for 5 months. After a few days my mom told me that she had to go home, the 25 miles away from me home. It could have been Californina as far as I was concerned, I just stood at the door and sobbed. She told me, I'm just 30 minutes away, if you need me I will come. I walked back in the door, looked at Liv and Bob and I thought, well, lets get on with it. We can do this, and we did. <br />
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Within a few weeks, we had the feedings and diaper changes down to an art. Bobby went from being afraid to holding a newborn baby to taking sweet little daddy naps on the couch with his girl wrapped tightly in his arms on his chest. Sure, there were some bumps in the road. After I figured out that I didn't need to take a shower with the shower curtain open and the baby sitting in the carseat directly in from of me. Or that I didn't have to sleep with my arm literally hanging over the side of the bassinet on her chest to make sure she was still breathing ( I think that is why I have carpal tunnel). We felt that we were so good at this, that at her first birthday party, I was already four months pregnant with Frankie.<br />
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Dirty diapers, dirty laundry, sleep deprivation, toys scattered everywhere, potty training, are everyday occurences in our home. Motherhood doesn't look like a Norman Rockwell painting, where all of the family and children are gathered in their Sunday best, sitting around the fireplace in a spotless house. There are some days that I just want to pull the covers back over my head, but I don't. These little people need me, they depend on me, and even though things never go as planned, we go forward. <br />
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This Mommy thing for me has never went exactly as intended, and there are days that I would like to just hit a pause button for about 12 hours and go back to those days before kids. Then I think about how much joy they bring into my life, about how I miss them the few hours a week that I work. Their smiling faces, snotty noses, and dirty little hands are the best. I love slobber kisses and the sweet little germs that they give me. This Mommy thing, it isn't as perfect and glamorous as some make it out to be. It is a journey of a lifetime that lasts for a lifetime, and I'm loving every minute of it. Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-44760698147818378652011-02-10T12:25:00.000-08:002011-02-10T12:25:26.810-08:00The SOUL of a shoeI have been searching high and low for an good pair of boots for Liv the past few weeks, and finally I found a reasonable, cute pair yesterday that I just knew that she would love. Of course, I was right, she could not get them on fast enough, they fit like and glove, and she LOVED them! She actually loves them so much that yesterday and today both, she has refused to even take them off for her nap. A three year old napping in her boots is one of the cutest things that I have seen.<br />
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When I was younger one of my favorite past times was going shoe shopping with my Mom and Granny. On any given Saturday afternoon it was not unusual for the three of us to end up in the shoe section at Value City. We took Value City shopping very seriously, (for those of you who don't know, Value City was like TJ Maxx is now). On one occasion we went in the store to shop and it was "spitting" snow outside, and when we finished, there was about 4 inches of snow on the ground...those were fun times! I would try on every pair of high heels I could reach. Those were good times that the three of us will remember for a lifetime. <br />
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I am addicted to shoes. I tend to argue that a good pair of shoes can totally make or break an outfit. I'm not some high end fashion guru, but shoes is like the period at the end of a sentence. The last line of a good book. The punch line of a joke. Without them, the story would not be complete, and your feet might get cold! I took the opportunity today to check my closet (which is a mess), and look at the many pairs of shoes I have, old and new, and take inventory.<br />
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I still have the first pair of high top Nike basketball shoes that I wore my freshman year in high school. They are white with the classic red swoosh down the side. They signified the first varsity ball game that I started in. I remember it well. It was a home game, we were playing Charlestown. They had a girl on their team who was a senior who eventually went on to play in the WNBA. I scored three points. Not much, but for my first game as a freshman playing against such a good team, I was proud! They were great shoes.<br />
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The next pair I noticed was wool clogs that I just had to have about 10 years ago. They were expensive shoes, so expensive that my mom told me that she would buy one shoe, but I had to buy the other with my own money. I wore them for years until they literally had a hole in the wool. Once again, they were great shoes. <br />
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Another pair of shoes that I came across were a pair of pointed toe black stilettos. My "dressy" shoes. The go to pair that every woman has. I actually bought these shoes to wear to my papaw's funeral. It was sweltering that day late in August. I wanted to look my best because he only deserved the best. <br />
I wore that same pair of shoes to my first Kentucky Derby. We went in style, we had box seats. I spent so much money on my hat, that I had to wear a dress and pair of shoes that I already had. We had a great time, Big Brown won, I puked in a popcorn container, and I will Never. Drink. A mint julep. Ever. Ever. Again.<br />
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I have not one, but three pair of knee boots. I know, a little excessive, but I LOVE them. When I was about 20 months preggo with Liv, or at least it felt like 20 months, my husband made a bet with me one night that I could not get into my high heel knee boots that he LOVES as well. I was out of breath, but after about 10 minutes of stretching and pulling, I got those babies zipped, and well, he lost the bet is all I have to say! I had Liv that same week. <br />
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Running shoes, work shoes, flip flops, and flats. Some are new, others are worn. Our shoes say something about the person that wears them. The right pair of shoes can make you feel just ordinary or make you feel extraordinary. From the gym, to work, to a hot date, they take every step we make. It may be time for me to clean out my closet, to let go of some of those shoes that I have held onto for so long. The memories though, they will stay with me forever. <br />
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What do your shoes say about you?Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-62052719303170798752011-01-30T11:07:00.000-08:002011-02-05T21:12:47.339-08:00I wish it were meIf I had a dollar for all the times that I heard my parents make the statements "I wish it were me instead of you" or "This hurts me more than it hurts you" I probably would be able to go and buy that new Honda Pilot that I like! As kids we thought that these statements were just a crock, that there was no way that my butt being spanked hurt my mom as bad as the sting on my back side. The older that I get, and now being a parent, I have to agree that those statements hold some truth.<br />
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This past week has been an emotionally and physically draining week. We spent 5 days in the hospital with our baby Frankie who was diagnosed with a nasty case of pneumonia, double ear infections, and RSV. It is hard for me to even begin to grasp how this child became so sick so fast. This was not the first time that he has given us a scare, at three weeks old he was diagnosed with Pertussis (whooping cough) and was hospitalized and came home on a monitor for weeks. Frankie is now on the mend and we are home, Thank God! Since things have began to slow down some, and I have got some much needed sleep, my mind is just now beginning to grasp what we went through this week. <br />
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Having a sick child has to be one of the single most difficult things to go through as a parent. For those of you who have children who have been critically ill or have chronic conditions, I have so much respect for you. The feeling of helplessness, the feeling of guilt, it just tears away at your heart.<br />
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When we brought Frankie to the Emergency room, I knew that he was sick, but I just didn't realize how bad he really was. His temperature was almost 105 after being treated around the clock for 24 hours. His beautiful little eyes were swollen shut, and the color had faded from his sweet little face. You would think that with a nurse for mommy, and a doctor for daddy, we would not have let our child get that sick, but it happened so fast. We were trying to rationalize everything from a medical standpoint, and did not listen to our gut instinct as parents. Watching them stick my baby time after time to start an IV because he desperately needed IV fluids, seeing him being suctioned, having to hold him down literally so that they could do all of these things was awful. Daddy could not even take it and would have to leave the room. I knew that all of these things were necessary if my baby was going to get better, I do the same things to my own patients, but this was different. It was my baby. My son. I was humbled. When all of this was happening, I kept on thinking about what my parents would say when I was sick. "I wish it were me instead of you" and now I knew full circle that what they had said all of those times was so true. I wanted to get in that bed and trade places with Frankie. I wanted to take all of that away from him, and it broke my heart that I could not do so. I can remember when I was in labor with Livi and had been in hard labor for about 24 hours and nothing was happening, so the doctor said that it was time for a c-section. I had never even considered having a c- section because I figured that a big ol' girl like me would be able to birth a baby with no problem, but Olivia had a different plan. My mom and Bobby were as exhausted as I was and after we decided to have the c-section at 4am, my mom followed the doctor into the hallway. I could see her from a distance and could hear her. She said something along the lines of "That is MY baby in that bed, and I want to make sure that you have had enough sleep to do this" in a Kathy Wilson kinda tone. Then she came back into the room crying and telling me that she wished that she could trade me places. At the time I thought that she had just went off of her rocker temporarily and that she needed a nerve pill, but now I know that feeling. An hour later our sweet little girl was born, and we were both fine. <br />
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As parents, we want the best for our children. We want them to be good, successful people. We want to see them blossom into the person that we have tried to raise them to be. When they fail at something or when they have a stumbling block in life, we want to take that away from them. We want to clear the path and make everything better. It is our nature, it is what all parents do. When they are sick, we want to take all of that hurt and pain away. My mom once told me that "An old cow bawls for her calf". It is true, in every species mommies want to protect their young, they would kill, and even die themselves for their babies. It is the way that God made us, it is our job. As a person of faith it only makes my faith stronger to think of the sacrifice that God made with his own son, for all mankind. What a heart wrenching decision that must have been.<br />
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It is simple, when our kids hurt, no matter how old or young, as a parent, it hurts us too. I will say the same thing to Liv and Frankie that my parents said to me, that "I wish it were me" and only when they have a child of their own will they fully understand the meaning of those words. Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-22148033441941368282011-01-09T20:53:00.000-08:002011-01-09T20:53:37.347-08:00Old schoolIt was only one of the biggest events of the school year, the Homecoming game. The band had spent weeks practicing on the perfect song, the ball team had been preparing extra hard, and the queen candidates had picked the perfect dress ensemble. The gym was decorated with lots of balloons and tulle. It was packed. The ball players looked stellar with their warm ups on. They escorted the cheerleaders in the gym. Then followed the girls in their ball gowns, they were beautiful, big hair and all.<br />
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This past Friday I attended the Homecoming game at my old high school. My little brother was nominated for King , so of course, his big sister was there to cheer him on. The night was great, and even though he wasn't crowned king, I was still proud. After I left, I was thinking about how much had changed in the 12 years since I roamed the halls of the school at Borden.<br />
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For those of you who don't know, I went to school in the same building for all 12 years. The elementary school was located upstairs, the Jr and Sr high school was located downstairs. Even today, grades k-12 are still in the same building, but there has been much growth and improvement. Change is good, but sometimes it is funny to remember about how things "used to be".<br />
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When I was in school we didn't have air conditioning. I can remember sitting in class in late August feeling on the verge of a heat stroke at times. The cooks would roll a cart down the hall with trays of ice and white styrofoam cups. That was how we were supposed to cool off, a cup of ice when the heat index was 105! Speaking of the weather, we didn't have snow days for a dusting or a few inches of snow. Our school bus drivers had freaking chains on their tires! We were bundled from head to toe, but we had school.<br />
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When we played softball and little league baseball back in the day we played at the "town park". It was an all dirt field across the street from the Borden Tavern and Brewer's General Store. There wasn't a concession stand, we walked across the street to the store for a bologna and cheese sandwich with white bread and miracle whip. Brewers had the BEST sandwiches. If you could hit a home run in the trees, you were definitely going to make the All stars. While we were waiting for our team to play we would hit the playground in front of the Borden Mansion, or better yet, ride our bikes down the school hill. There was nothing like the sound of the chains squeaking just to see how high we could swing. When we were older, sometimes we would even sneak behind the old shelter house and maybe have our first kiss! After the game the town drunks would come out of the tavern and cheer us on and we would go to Judy's Dairy Barn for a dip cone. Speaking of the town park, what about the Saturday morning flea markets? I can remember getting those belts that were actually chains with charms all over them or a cheap birthstone ring.<br />
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When we were in school spirit week was the best week of the year. The week would have theme days such as hat day, or pajama day. At the end of the week it was red and black day. The entire school would be decked out in their red and black attire. A school wide pep session closed the school day with the big game that night. The entire school k-12 attended the pep session, it was so cool as an elementary student getting to go to the high school gym and hear the pep band play and see the ball team!<br />
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The fall festival was another highlight of the the school year. There was everything from a cake walk to paying a dollar to get a baseball bat and smash an old car out in the parking lot for fun. We actually had a REAL turkey dinner made by the cooks and it was always soooo good!<br />
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If you were in elementary school when Mr Hobbs was the principle we all knew what 1-2-3 meant...THANK YOU!! What the heck is this that they don't call the class parties "Halloween Parties" or "Christmas Parties". Now they are called holiday parties, and it doesn't seem the same.<br />
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Silk shirts, stone washed pleated jeans tight rolled, all while wearing eastlands(with the shoe strings rolled) or white canvas keds tennis shoes. Umbro shorts and color changing t shirts. Those were the days. They were good days. They are days that I miss. <br />
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Change is inevitable, change is necessary, and most of the time, change is good. Even though things have changed since I was in school, our school continues to grow, and continues to be the special place that it always has been. I know that most of you who aren't from Borden probably won't appreciate this blog like those of us that call this school home, but it was a great place to go to school and an even better place to grow up. Even though this small town girl lives in the city now, it is always good to go home. I hope that one day my kids can experience a school like Borden. Maybe they will get the chance to be Braves after all...Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-30762767983716419842010-12-21T11:21:00.000-08:002010-12-21T11:21:49.831-08:00Tis the season to be MARYI am absolutely exhausted today. I asked myself why this morning. Why am I so tired? Why do I want to hit the snooze button and skip the gym today? It is because I have succumbed to the season. The season of Christmas that is. <br />
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The past few weeks our agenda has been incredibly full. Christmas parties every weekend, shopping, cleaning, church activities, preschool activities, trimming the tree, etc etc. I literally could go on all day. All of this combined with our normal day to day schedule has become almost more than I can handle. I have tried not to become one of "those" people that gets caught up in the commercialization of Christmas...but I have.<br />
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Growing up I can remember my parents being exhausted by the time that the big day rolled around. I didn't know why at the time because I thought that Santa had all of the hard work to do. Like delivering toys all across the world in a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer. One of those reindeer even had a shiny red nose! As I have grown older I now know why. Mom stayed up into the wee hours of the morning cooking and wrapping gifts. Dad stayed up to assemble an assortment of toys. I always would be amazed that Santa had the same wrapping paper that my Mom did. Even though Mom and Dad made Christmas such a special, amazing, and magical time, they never let us forget what it was all about. It was about faith, family, and giving to others. <br />
Christmas Eve was a jammed packed day in the Wilson Family. We would start out by going to my Mom's parents for lunch. I was always excited because we could play with our cousins the entire day. I can remember playing in Granny and Papaw's bedroom one year and we all found a big box with a blanket over it. My cousin Erin was the oldest and the tallest at time time, so she was able to maneuver the blanket off of the box. Inside was a brand new TV. We were amazed at our discovery and ran to tell our parents about what we had found. I don't remember the exact explanation that they gave for our findings, but we believed it!!! Amazingly, the next morning Santa brought the exact kind of TV to our house, it was incredible!<br />
I remember the last Christmas with my Papaw John. I was seven years old. They usually had an artificial tree, but that year he decided to go and cut down a tree in the woods on their farm. At the time I thought that the tree was a little ugly. It was a little bare in places and it wasn't a perfectly shaped tree, but my Papaw was so proud of it. He hung the strands of the old multi colored bulbs, you know, the real big ones. Now when I look back, it was one of the most beautiful trees that I can ever remember.<br />
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After Christmas Eve lunch we would then go to the community Christmas program in our little town, Borden. It used to be held in the parking lot of the hardware store, but because of cold weather they eventually moved it to the old Museum Building in town. All of the community would gather and listen to the Christmas story read by one of the ministers of the various churches in town. After that members of all of the churches would come together and sing Christmas Carols until Santa arrived on the fire truck. I can remember the anticipation and excitement when we heard the siren on the fire truck. Santa would give a bag of candy to all of the children. Those were the best candy canes that I have ever eaten. It is a tradition that is still alive today. The same families are there each year, and as we all leave to go our separate ways when it is over, everyone hugs and gives warm wishes of a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.<br />
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Following the Christmas program we would make our way to my Dad's parents house. My dad has a big family and we all are very close. We celebrate every birthday, holiday, etc etc together. Christmas was especially special. We would all be jammed packed into their small house. The smell of all the wonderful food, the gigantic mound of presents under the tree, it was all magical. I can remember placing the gifts under the tree. It was a nice tree, Grandma always had white doves on it. We would all pack into the kitchen and have prayer together, not forgetting what the season was all about, and then we would eat. My Grandma and Papaw had a dining room table with brown leather chairs and I remember twisting around and around while sitting at the table in those chairs. After eating we would distribute all of the gifts. As a grandchild, if you were old enough to read the name tags, you had to sort all of the gifts and hand them out. Everyone would find their little spot or corner to call their own. Eventually as a family we had outgrown my Grandparent's house and now my Aunt hosts Christmas Eve. Things have changed a little. Papaw is no longer with us, and the next generation of kids are now handing out gifts. Changes and all, we still love each other more and more each year, and we all still celebrate together. It was a tradition started by our Grandparents who knew what the most important things in life were. What an incredible example they set, and what an amazing thing they started so long ago. <br />
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Exhausted from the busy day, when we got home late that night, it wasn't too hard for us to fall asleep. One year while driving home I looked in the sky and saw a flashing light. Dad told me that it was Santa's sled and that we needed to hurry up and get home and go to sleep. Now I know that was a jetliner, but still today on Christmas Eve when I see a plane in the night sky, I think to myself that we better get home and go to bed because Santa is coming. <br />
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Christmas morning we would wake up sometimes before daylight. We would wake mom and dad and run to the living room to see if Santa had come. The tree would look beautiful, the lights twinkling, the gifts arranged so neatly. One year we even had a tent completely assembled in the living room that Santa had brought. Years later I learned that my dad put the tent together at Grandma and Grandpa's house in the garage. He and my aunt rode inside of the tent in the back of the truck in sub zero weather Christmas Eve night, so that it would not blow out of the truck to bring it to our house! They still laugh about that every year on Christmas. After opening gifts, we usually go back to sleep at some point that morning. We stayed at home on Christmas day. It was our day with our parents. Our grandparents would usually stop by that afternoon to see all our treasures. Those were great times. Although we were blessed beyond measure, my family never let us forget about the true meaning of Christmas. I pray that I am able to do the same with my kids.<br />
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Years have gone by and now I can't believe that I am the mom. I'm the one that has been awake until 2am the past two nights making sure that the gifts look perfect and the bows are just right. Putting toys together while trying to get the house clean for the guests to arrive. We are also making new traditions. I host my husband's family at our house on Christmas Eve day. I have learned from his 96 year old Grandmother how to prepare traditional Romanian cabbage rolls (<span style="background-color: yellow;">sarmale</span>) for Christmas. I melt when I see the excitement in the eyes of my kids. We are making memories of our own while still not forgetting where we have come from. <br />
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Yes, I admit it. It is the week of Christmas and I am exhausted. The most important thing that I want my kids to know is that we can't forget the humble beginnings that Christmas is all about. Jesus came into this world in a dirty barn, not the deluxe birthing suite. Not a birth we would call fit for our Saviour. So, as we try to make everything perfect this Christmas just don't forget that humble beginning. Believer or not, let us not forget about giving of ourselves and giving to others less fortunate. Be with your family, enjoy that time with them, because we never know what the next year will bring. Love each other.<br />
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Merry Christmas to all of you and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-85241455593932773112010-12-09T11:25:00.000-08:002010-12-09T11:25:02.834-08:00As long as we both shall liveSome people believe in love at first sight. Call me a skeptic, but I think that is all a big crock. The only "love at first sight" that I believe in is when your child is born and you see your baby for the first time. Then even though it is the first time that you have "seen" the baby, you have loved them since the very beginning. <br />
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Last week Bobby and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary and over the past few days I have been thinking about how awesome this journey with him has been and continues to be. For some, 5 years seems like we are still just babies, but my how many things we have experienced since then. <br />
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I am blessed beyond measure to have meet Bobby. I can remember the first time I saw him, he was in typical Bobby mode...going a hundred miles a minute. He rounded the corner to the nurses station at 2B on a mission. It was about 4am, I could tell that he had literally just jumped out of the bed because he was called in to an emergency in the ICU. His hair was going in every direction, lab coat was wrinkled, pants were too short. Despite all of that, his sweet face caught my eye. He was looking for a chart and I just happened to find it...a few days later we meet for coffee at Barnes and Noble Bookstore. We talked for hours and actually closed the store down. I even remember the green shirt he was wearing...his mom got it for him from Oregon. It was comfortable, easy, like we had known each other forever. When I got home my mom asked me what I thought. My exact words were, "I really like him. He is so nice and sweet. Even if nothing happens between us, he is a friend that I could have for life." We went out the following night, and the three following that. I learned very quickly how absolutely amazing, smart, caring, and funny this guy was. <br />
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Over the next few months we would see each other as much as we could. We would meet in the hospital cafeteria or the the break room for a quick lunch. I would drive 30 miles to Louisville and sit outside University Hospital waiting to see him, sometimes only for 10 minutes, but it was worth it! On Christmas Eve I asked him to go with me to my Aunt's house and meet my family. This was a huge step for me. I had never really brought anyone I had ever dated to meet the entire family before. I could tell that he was nervous, but he went because I had asked him to. Before we came, I gave the family a pep talk and told them that he was my friend and not their doctor. I warned them that he wasn't going to listen to their lungs and diagnose that nasty cough. When we walked in the door my dad was the first to meet and greet him. Bobby said "Hi Mr Williams, nice to meet you". My dad, Lonnie WILSON just smiled and made him feel right at home. It took all of 15 minutes and my Uncles and Papaw had all lined up and were explaining their entire medical history to him over the Christmas ham. It was actually a good thing because it was something that Bobby was comfortable talking about. The next day I was talking to my Papaw and asking him what he thought about Bobby. He told me that he thought that Bobby was a fine man and that I should not let him slip away. Papaw knew what he was talking about, and in my heart I knew down deep that he was the one. Our friendship blossomed into a relationship over the next few months. In May he had to go out of town for two weeks for a conference. I took him to the airport and when he left my heart was so heavy and I felt so sad when he was away. I knew then that I was in LOVE. It is funny that he too had the same revelation while on that trip. He says that is where he really realized that he was in love with me too. When he got home we told each other that we loved each other. It was so special because it had been almost a year in the making. We both knew that these words were not spoken lightly. We were engaged on February 5th 2005 and married on December 2nd 2005. <br />
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Since then we have had many good times and some bad along the way. We survived his fellowship, job hunt, and finally finding a job. We have endured the illness of his grandmother. We grieved the loss of my Papaw with each other. We bought a car, a house, and had two babies in 20 months. What a journey it has been along the way. It is challenging at times. Having a husband who has a job that is so demanding is very hard. Our kids don't have a normal bedtime because when it is 10 o'clock at night and they haven't seen their daddy at all because he left before they were awake, I can't make them go to bed. Liv stands at the window and watches every headlight that comes down our street waiting for it to turn in our driveway. Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, there are always sick people who need them. It is hard for Bobby, because he wants to be at home too, but there are times where he can't. Doctor's wives definitely don't get their nails done everyday and sit at home and eat chocolates. We handle everything at home from repairs to the laundry. Although sometimes I miss him and get frustrated I think about the wives who wait months for their husbands to come home from war, and I am thankful. I have a husband who loves me and my babies more than life itself. He sacrifices everything for us. At the end of the day when he comes through that door, even if it is midnight, he always has a smile on his face. This is our life, it is how it has to be, and that is fine with me. I am proud to have a husband who actually wants to help people. It isn't a paycheck to him. He wants to make a difference and I admire him for that.<br />
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Our love was not love at first sight, it is a love that started with a friendship and grew into the beautiful thing that it is now. We are in this through the good times and the bad. We are a team. How BLESSED I am to have such a loving faithful husband. Bobby, I love you with all of my heart and I am so excited that I get to spend the rest of my life with you. It gets better and better with each passing minute. My cup overflows...Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-81906591842526317342010-11-15T13:13:00.000-08:002010-11-15T13:13:26.218-08:00ThanksmasI was driving home from work this morning and I saw not one, but several houses already decked out for Christmas and I could not believe my eyes! Did I miss the turkey and cranberry sauce? Did we skip the entire month of November? Am I the only person that finds this a little disturbing?<br />
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I love Thanksgiving! It is the only holiday where diets are outlawed and it is ok to wear pants with draw strings. It is all about spending time with family, reflecting on the past year, and taking time to be THANKFUL! <br />
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When I was growing up I loved Thanksgiving. I can remember waking up early that morning to the sound of the vacuum cleaner running and my mom getting that last speck of dirt off the carpet. I would go out to the living room and turn on the TV to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. As my mom would be basting the turkey and giving last minute "honey do" jobs for my dad, I would be watching the pink panther soar above Manhattan, dancing with the Rockettes, all while trying to sing the latest Broadway tune! We would have to hurry and get dressed because soon the entire family would be coming to our house for the day. The cars would start to come up the drive...Grandpa unloading a trunk full of Grandma's pies and chicken and dumplings. My Uncle Mel would pull up by the house and get my great grandma's wheelchair out of the van and let me ride on her lap while he pushed her into the house. My cousins would arrive and we would try to sneak a dessert before the meal. After everyone arrived and the "buffet" was arranged, we would all stand in the living room and kitchen together as a family (there were so many of us that we didn't all fit in one room). Everyone would join hands and we would reflect on all of the things that we as a family had to be thankful for. We would hold hands and pray. We would eat. Laughter filled the rooms. Everyone would go back for seconds, some, even thirds!!! The ladies would then sit and chat over dessert. The men would lie on the couch, in the chairs, even on the floor, and turn on some football while talking about the 10 point buck that they missed while hunting earlier that morning. Tums would be passed around and games were played by the kids. This was my memories of Thanksgiving as a child. <br />
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When I graduated high school and went away to college I couldn't wait to get home for Thanksgiving break. It would kick off on Tuesday evening with the famous Borden-Pekin Basketball rivalry game. It was like a homecoming of sorts, you would run into all of your old friends, talk about what was new in your life, while rooting for the home team! My car would be packed full of dirty laundry that awaited mom's washing machine. As the years past there were some years that I had to work on Thanksgiving. My how I missed being with my family. I would call every few hours to get the play by play of the day. I would finally get home to a house full of family and warm up a plate of leftover turkey...it was the best! <br />
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The first Thanksgiving Bobby and I spent together was actually a week before we were married. The two years before that we were both on call or working, and didn't get to spend the holiday together. It was a crazy time. Not only were we a week away from tying the knot, but my grandpa had just went through major heart surgery the week before and had several life threatening complications. We almost decided as a family not to get together that year, just to go to a restaurant, we thought it would just make things easier. As grandpa laid in the hospital gravely ill he said, "you are still getting together tomorrow, aren't you?" I left the hospital and went straight to the store, bought a turkey, and went home to cook it! I had no idea how in the world to make a turkey, but I did it. We all got together as a family. That was the last Thanksgiving grandpa was with us. That next Friday, I walked down the isle and married my best friend. Two years later we shared the first Thanksgiving with our newborn baby girl, we had so much to be thankful for. It was my first real outing after giving birth. It took me about three hours to get all of the diaper bags packed, breast pump loaded in the car, and about four changes of clothes for the baby! What a day it was!!! Last year was Frankie's first Thanksgiving. When we stood together as a family and reflected on the year and what we were thankful for all I could think about was how BLESSED we were to have a healthy baby. A baby that literally could have died was healthy and strong. How appropriate that he was named after grandpa. What a JOY he has been to our family! <br />
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This is what Thanksgiving is all about...GIVING THANKS! I am thankful for so many things, from my family to the fact that this year I'm wearing jeans that I haven't worn since pre baby days! It's a good day. It's a great day, indeed!<br />
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So before you start to plan out your black Friday shopping spree or trim the tree, don't forget about carving the turkey. Don't forget to be thankful for the little things in life that matter so much. And please, don't turn on your Christmas lights until the day after!!!! Let the turkey have his day too! Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-78637460117171007052010-10-29T11:37:00.000-07:002010-10-29T11:37:26.275-07:00BFF, LYLAS, and so onI can remember my first day of kindergarten just like yesterday. I was so excited about going to the same school as my big brother. What I didn't understand was that we would not be in the same class, so when I got to school and he was not with me, I was a little scared! Then this really nice little girl with long blond hair came and sat in the chair next to me. This would be the beginning of a 25 year and counting friendship.<br />
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In my life I have been blessed beyond measure with a wonderful, loving, and caring family. I realize that this is something that is now often not the case and I am thankful for them. I also have been immensely blessed with friends whom I consider family. Having both of these families in my life has made more of an impact on me as a person than I could ever explain in words, but I will try.<br />
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I went to the same school from kindergarten to high school graduation. In fact, it was all in the same building. To some this may be surprising, but to those of us who grew up together, it was normal . The same girls that I started to play basketball with in elementary school were the same girls that I shared the court with on my last game as a senior. Sunday school, bible camp, summer bike rides, and sleepovers, they were all there. First dates, prom, parties, graduation, and even our first hangovers, we all were together.<br />
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For some people this is where the story ends, after high school everyone goes their separate ways and those friendships that were so strong become a distant memory with the occasional phone call or email. In my case, this was not the end of the story, in fact, it was just the beginning.<br />
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In college I meet new people at a different phase in my life. I never dreamed that I could become such good friends with someone almost instantly. It was just like the first day of kindergarten all over again. After college and across the miles, the story doesn't end here for me either. <br />
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Being a nurse is a great job. It is my passion, it is what I have wanted to do all of my life. When I passed my nursing boards and had a real job, I was so excited, yet terrified. The thought of literally having someone else's life in your hands is a huge responsibility for a 21 year old. My fellow co workers took me under their wings, they taught me how to be a good nurse, they took care of me. I watched them save lives literally, I witnessed them having to tell a mother that their son or daughter was dead. I have seen them hold the hand of the dying person who has not one family member until they take their last breath. They even introduced me to the man who would become my husband and the father of my children. <br />
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Through thick and thin, best friends forever, to those of you special people in my life, we have stayed true to this. We have seen each other at their best, and at their lowest. We have been there for each other through marriage and even divorce. We have been there for illnesses and death of loved ones. We have been pregnant together, and have seen each other become mothers for the first time. Through all of the laughter and some tears our friendships are stronger than ever. No matter what walk of life we have meet in, you are all different, yet so instrumental in the person that I am. <br />
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I want to thank the special few of you who are my closest friends. You know who you are, whether we have been friends since the first day of kindergarten, or have only known each other from work. Thank you. Thank you for being a good friend to me. Thank you for loving me for who I am. Thank you for your loyalty and trust. Yes, I am one of those lucky few people in this world that has a group of friends that I can call family. I know that no matter where we are in life, that we will always share the common bond of friendship.<br />
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A friend loves at all times. Proverbs 17:17<br />
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I love you my dear friendsRachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-51310504770327252042010-10-27T11:04:00.000-07:002010-10-27T11:04:41.731-07:00Trick or Treat, smell my feet...It is that time of year again. The time of year where the candy corn is on every isle in the grocery store and the fun size snickers just happen to magically appear in my shopping cart. Of course, it is the only time that I have a valid excuse to buy such things because we HAVE to get plenty of candy for our two trick or treaters, right?<br />
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I know that I should get into the ghouls and goblins mood, but as a parent, I dread Halloween. The idea of a constant sugar high for three days with a 1 and 2 year old just isn't fun. Buying overpriced costumes and then having to take them off and on my kids every time that I get them in and out of the car to trick or treat because they don't fit in their car seats with them on is entirely too much work! <br />
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As a kid I had great memories of Halloween. I can remember going to the store to look at costumes. Some years I would get one from the store, but most years we didn't. To be honest, the years we wore the homemade costumes were the best. One year I was a "hobo" wearing dad's old flannel shirt, another year I was a referee, wearing dad's referee shirt. Funny thing, a lot of my costumes came out of dad's closet!!! My fondest costume was when I was in the first grade. My Granny had some old curtains in her house that were a shear white fabric . My cousins and I would stand in the window where they hung down to the floor, and we would wrap up in them playing a bride. We would drape it around our head like a veil and then sing "Here comes the Bride" for hours. My Granny and Mom had a great idea to make me a "bride" costume out of the old curtains. I was so excited! I could remember watching the progress on my dress everyday and the excitement that I had about wearing it to school and showing it to all of my friends. The day finally came, I put on my costume that I loved so much and got on the school bus. I was so proud! I didn't win the best costume award that year, but to me, It was the greatest ever! <br />
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Some years we would make a dummy and sit him on our front porch. Stuffing my dad's coveralls with leaves and putting "hunky dory" aka our name for the famous funny mask that we had for years, on top of the coveralls. Once my mom even put the mask on while she was in bed with the covers over her face. My dad came home from working a double shift and pulled back the covers, nearly peeing himself when he saw my mom! We laughed for days!!!<br />
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Popcorn balls homemade by Grandma Pat, crisp fall evenings, the smell of bonfires...that was Halloween to me. In the spirit of the season, I have decided that I will participate in making Halloween fun for my kids, even if I don't care for it as an adult like I did as a kid. Although we have store bought costumes and there is no "hunky dory" on my front porch, we will make family memories of our own. Who knows, maybe I will find an old curtain and make my own costume...Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-82187058534410450062010-10-05T11:48:00.000-07:002010-10-05T11:48:31.535-07:00No Thanks, Ronald McDonaldThis past summer was the hottest on record and I don't think that anyone will disagree, it was miserable!! It felt more like Death Valley than Kentucky. Due to the hot temps there were days we were forced to come up with alternatives to playing outside. Driving by McDonald's I had the bright idea that the playplace would be great fun for the kids. I should have just kept on driving.<br />
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The people who do marketing for McDonald's are quite clever, obviously. So good they could probably convince a fat girl like me to buy a bikini and make her think that she looks good in it. The happy meal, free toys, and the playplace, they are all targets for those little people in the back seat, to lure them in, and get them hooked! We had visited the playplace once before with our older cousins and it was a good experience so I figured that this would be a great way for Liv to burn some energy. <br />
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We had a little talk in the car before going in about eating first, then she could play. For those of you who know my child, she doesn't eat much, sometimes I wonder how she can be my daughter! We got our food, sat down to eat, and to my surprise she finished every last bite of her meal. Frankie and I were still eating but I told her that she could go and play.<br />
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I watched her ever so carefully climb all of the way to the top of the play equipment and continue to go through a maze. At first I was a little nervous because I could not see her when she was in the maze but every few minutes I would hear, "Mom, watch me"! Meanwhile, Frankie was still enjoying eating his chicken nuggets, so I sat and continued to feed him while watching her play. As I was people watching, I noticed a woman who looked more like my mom's age with no less than 5 kids with her, she looked tired and worn out. While trying to figure out if she was the mommy or grandma, I heard this piercing scream from the top of the maze. I knew that it wasn't Liv, and then I saw the mom/grandma look up at a screaming little girl. She was trying to coax her down, but with no luck. She proceeded to climb all of the way to the top to bring her down. Have you ever seen these things? There are no ladders, just platforms made for a 3 year old to climb up. The entire time I was watching her I was thinking, I'm so glad that isn't my kid. Then it hit me, I could see my future right before my eyes. I knew that this is exactly what I was going to be doing. It was not 2 minutes and I hear Liv yelling, "MOM, COME GET ME NOW"!<br />
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I could see her peeking through the window in the maze and I was trying to tell her how to get down, but all I got in return was, "come get me, I'm scared"! Scanning the play area I thought, there has to be an older kid in here that can climb up and get her. No such luck. They were all little ankle biters just like her. I knew what I was going to have to do. I grabbed Frankie out of the high chair and walked to the "platform tower" area. I took one look at it and thought how in the world am I going to get this fat @%% up there all while holding Frankie? Definitely should not have eaten that Big Mac. I started the climb. With every platform that I had to squeeze through one handed, her screams got louder. I had back sweat. This was not good. After what seemed like climbing Everest, I made it to the top platform. I looked and she was at the end of this tunnel. NO WAY can I fit through it. FINALLY, she got close enough that I grabbed her foot and I dragged her to the platform where I squeezed back to the bottom while holding two kids. When I made it to the floor I wanted to kiss it. I looked around and realized that not only did I have an audience inside, there were people in the drive thru watching too. GREAT, I'm going to end up on some Youtube video...FAT MOM CLIMBS UP TO SCREAMING CHILD. Thank God that I have not seen it...yet.<br />
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We didn't even clean up our eating area, we went straight to the car, and I got the heck out of that place as fast as I could. <br />
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Whenever you have the idea that going to the playplace would be great fun, just remember that you could be that mom/grandma climbing to the top to get your crying kid. <br />
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Next summer when it is blazing hot and we are looking for alternative activities, we are going to the pool!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-84742959846032300582010-10-04T08:40:00.000-07:002010-10-04T08:40:54.262-07:00This is what I signed up forI recall vividly the first few days that I worked in the hospital as a nursing assistant while in school. I had brand new scrubs, a cute stethoscope, and shiny white tennis shoes. I would bounce in a patients room with a smile from ear to ear. I was as green as grass. Then it happened, I had to clean out a bedpan and poop for the first time and I thought, "This really isn't what I had in mind, a business degree sounds somewhat appealing".<br />
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In our lives we all have those moments when we think, is this really what I signed up for? What was I thinking? I am crazy! I had that same exact thought at 4am this morning after two nights in a row of my two year old thinking that it is more fun to keep me awake at night.<br />
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When both of my babies were born I remember the feelings that I had in those first few precious hours of their lives. The overwhelming feeling of love, the feeling of accomplishment, the pride you have when showing your child to your family for the first time. Thankful. Blessed. It is a feeling that could never be matched, an amazing time to cherish. Then all of the sudden about 8 hours into it those feelings get overshadowed by the constant feedings, the trying to get out of bed when you have almost been cut in half. Smiling when the 20th person walks in your room for a visit when all you want to do is feed this kid and take a nap. Your spinal wears off! Sitting on the side of the bed realizing that you are never going to be the same. Then going home makes it even worse. The anxiety sets in. How do I get this kid to stop crying, and is that a blister on my nipple? You want to take all of those pretty parenting books and cute little trinkets and run over them with the car. Baby's r us did not mention this feeling on their "We have everything" registry. This is NOT what I signed up for!<br />
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Being a mom is the hardest job that I have ever had. Someone always needs to be taken care of, and there is always things to do. Taking a shower is no longer a necessity but a luxury. Days where you feel glamorous because you are wearing jeans instead of sweat pants. I turned in my stilettos for crocks! I should get the freaking Nobel peace prize for this work! Then when you least expect it, they rock your world! They pat your face and give you slobber kisses. They tell you how much they love you. They tell you that you are pretty. They make your day. <br />
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The next time they are awake half of the night and you have those thoughts about this journey not being exactly what you thought it would be, I will think of all of those moments that make me want to do it all over again. The smell of a newborn and the sweet sounds they make. The first time that they look at you and smile. The first time you hear them call your name. The laughter that outweighs the cries. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, but the reward is endless. They make my life worth living. My cup overflows.<br />
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When the kids take their nap today, instead of watching their sweet little faces while they sleep, I am going to run and jump in the bed and take a nap too.Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-49815049628297362812010-09-28T13:41:00.000-07:002010-09-28T13:42:32.414-07:00RoadtripThis past week we took our first "big vacation" with the kids. We have done a few small weekend trips and they did great so we figured that we were ready to take the plunge. I can honestly say that I was nervous and didn't have high expectations on how a 1yr old and 2 yr old would do in the car for 10 hours, but to my surprise it went quite well. Thanks to the portable DVD player!<br />
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I can't believe that this is a relatively new concept, letting the kids watch DVDs in the car on long trips. I am guessing whoever invented the concept had a whole litter of kids. I know my parents would have given a kidney for one when we were little I am sure. Our road trips growing up seems like yesterday. The old Lincoln town car aka "The Gray Granny" was packed down so far that the muffler would almost drag the pavement. I had my red "going to grandma's" suitcase in the trunk along with Chad's blue matching one. My mom's over sized pink plastic samsonite suitcase from 1975 stuffed so full that my dad would have to sit on it to get the metal latches to close. Chad and I packed in the back seat amidst pillows and a cooler with snacks and drinks. I used to think why don't we just ditch the cooler and leave it at home so that I can actually stretch out my legs. Countless games of paper rock scissors, hitting each other and yelling "didn't hurt" until literally we had bruises on our arms and was crying. Begging my dad to stop just one more time because I had to pee AGAIN. Asking those 4 words that every parent can't stand to hear "Are we there yet"? Then after what seemed like an eternity my mom would roll down the windows, at least the ones that actually worked (the back window in the passenger side didn't work and only my mom and I knew how to open the door) and say, "We're getting close, I can smell the salt water!" Excitement and anticipation took over those feelings of thinking that we were never going to get there. Then we could finally see it, the ocean at last!! After I think about it, even though we didn't have Mr. portable DVD inventor man, it was the best. It was a time in my life that I will never forget.<br />
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As I was driving the last few hours of the trip to Florida I was thinking to myself about how I am the mom now. I am the one who stayed up until the wee hours of the morning making sure that every last thing was packed and ready to go. Getting ice for the cooler, loading the car, getting the first aid kit and the map. Bobby sitting on the suitcase to get it zipped. Where had time gone? Was I really ready to tackle this? Then I thought this was our roadtrip, our first vacation as a family. It was our turn to make memories that would last a lifetime. We were ready, we were the parents. This was our time.<br />
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Then I heard those four little words come out of Livi's mouth "Are we there yet?" I rolled down the windows and said " We're getting close, I can smell the saltwater"!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-22482136986616103002010-08-31T12:58:00.000-07:002010-08-31T12:59:30.827-07:00Mommy, RNEver since I can remember I have wanted to be a nurse. When I was three years old I would tell people that I was going to work at Norton's hospital in the nursery and take care of the babies. I did fulfill my dream of being a nurse, although the thought of working in the nursery terrifies me! I have become an ICU junkie! I love going to work and taking care of the sickest patients in the hospital. I have seen people live after being on their death bed. I have held hands of dying people when no family was to be found. Telling a mother that they have lost a child has to be one of the hardest things that I have ever done. The good days out weigh the bad. I couldn't ever see myself doing anything else until one day when something literally inside of me changed my perspective. <br />
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When I was pregnant with Livi I was sick every day. I had somehow managed to learn how to drive and hold a puke bag at the same time. I LOST 25 lbs! Great weight loss plan? Not really. People would ask me, "You aren't coming back to work after the baby are you?" Well sure I am coming back to work! I had worked hard to become a nurse and I loved my job, why wouldn't I? I thought that I had it all planned out, because full time was only working 3 12 hour shifts a week, I would work mostly on weekends and my cousin and grandma would watch the baby the other times. It was the perfect plan. Early on a brisk November morning, all of that changed. <br />
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After 30+ hours of labor it was time for a c section. At this point, I didn't care how the baby came out, I was just exhausted and ready. When they held her up and announced those words "It's a girl", my entire life changed at that moment. She was tiny, healthy, and beautiful. She was mine. Before I ever left the hospital I had already started to think about what I was going to do when I went back to work. The thought of leaving this precious little being made me almost hyperventilate. After talking to Bobby I called my boss and worked out a part time position, working only 8 shifts a month. This all happened before we ever left the hospital! <br />
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After 6 weeks of maternity leave the day had come. I had been dreading this day. I carefully labeled all of the breast milk bottles in the fridge, had three changes of clothes laid out on the changing table. All of the diapers were organized and ready to go. A hand written note about what to do, when to do it, and what would happen if you didn't! I packed up all of my pumping supplies and kissed her little cheeks about 50 times and then walked out of the door. The tears started to come before I even got in the car. I was going to be gone at night, hopefully she would sleep the whole time I thought. After crying hysterically the entire way to work, I somehow got out of the car, clocked in, and pulled myself together to work. I loved this job, I missed work, I can do this! Then after about three hours the dreaded phone call came. My husband frantically wanting to know how to get her to stop crying. I could her her in the background screaming and my heart was breaking. By now I was engorged, I had not pumped since I left for work, and that is all it took. My milk let down and I started to cry too! Good thing that I work with some of the most wonderful people in the world. They were amazing, they let me cry, let me go pump, and tried to help me make it through the night!<br />
That was the hardest night that I have ever had at work, but I made it. <br />
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After a few weeks we actually came up with a schedule and a solution. On nights that Bobby was on call the baby would stay with my parents, and on nights that he wasn't, a friend of mine would go and be an extra helping hand. It worked perfectly! I only had a few tears when I would leave for work. Before long I was actually looking forward to going to work. It was my time. Time where I could use the skills that I had worked so hard to learn, time to have adult conversations, time to have a little of the old Rach back. It was the perfect balance. <br />
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When I got pregnant with Frankie all of that changed again. I knew that with another baby it would be harder to keep to the same schedule that we had. Olivia was also getting to the point where she was crawling for the first time, trying to speak, clapping her little hands. All things that I didn't want to miss, things that I wanted to be there for. After another long discussion with Bobby we decided that I would cut my hours even more. I would only be required to work 3 shifts a month. In doing this I would have to fore fit any benefits that I had, but it was okay, we had found a solution. It turned out to be the best thing for our family.<br />
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I realize that not everyone has the option of staying at home. Some people do have the option and still choose to work full time. Every person is different. Every person is fulfilled in their own special way. In no way does it make any of us better or worse with the path that we decide. I am fortunate that I do have the option and the choice. I am thankful for the hard work that my husband does. I AM BLESSED!<br />
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There are days when going to work seems like a vacation and I can't wait to get there! At the end of my shift I am ready to see those cute faces and get big sloppy kisses! As parents we do our best, it is a learning process that I have come to find out never ends. Whatever you do, whether you are a stay at home mom or dad, career parent, or part timer, as long as our family's needs are meet then we are doing our job. Keep up the good work. I'm just glad that I get to have my piece of cake and eat it too!!!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-904188663690479246.post-48114334098865509822010-08-30T19:46:00.000-07:002010-08-30T19:46:40.174-07:00The purple dinosaurBarney, Elmo, Dora, Sid, Clifford, Diego, Belle, Zoe, Ariel. At first glance you would think that it was a cross between Mayberry and a strip joint. In fact, these are the names of the characters that are on television every day to entertain our kids. Every where you go you can find Dora towels, Barney shirts, Elmo pillows, etc etc. Whoever invented these characters I'm sure have enough money and revenue to buy a small country!<br />
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There are so many studies out there that talk about if your kids should watch TV, what they should watch, how much they should watch, etc etc. While I think that some of these studies have some valid points, I think that some of them are also a crock. I would bet my next paycheck that half of the people who published these studies weren't stay at home parents with two toddlers. <br />
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I admit it, my kids watch TV almost every day, and they have certain shows that they LOVE. Seriously, if I had my choice to play with a wooden block or watch a purple dinosaur dance and sing, I would pick the dinosaur! What two year old wouldn't want to watch a girl with a cool backpack and a talking monkey speak Spanish? For my kids it is entertainment, and somewhat educational. For me, it is peace. It means that I get to take a shower, fold laundry, or cook dinner. It means that I get to feed my Facebook habit or have the occasional phone call to a friend.<br />
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Someone made the comment to me the other day that they thought it was amazing that at two years old Olivia knows all of her colors, knows the alphabet, can count to 15, and can sing a whole variety of songs (I'm sure that there are a ton of kids out there that can do that). The person commented "I bet that you work with her all of the time". I just smiled and said thank you, but it made me really think, "How in the world does she know all of this?" While I do sit and sing songs with her and Frankie, and count the steps every time that we walk up and down them, I can't take all of the credit. I have to give a shout out to my homeboyz Elmo and Barney for all of their hard work and effort! They have taught her something!<br />
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I think that the key is balance. Should TV take away from outside play or reading time? Absolutely not! We all know that too much of anything can be bad. If I eat that bag of Doritos, my jeans won't fit! If I drink that next martini, I may have a hangover , or even worse, get crazy and get knocked up again! My point is that Dora and Elmo aren't going to make your kids stupid or fat if you are responsible about it. Take that time when they watch their shows and do something productive, or just sit down and relax for a moment. When it is over turn it off and go outside and play with your babies. Nothing should take the place of your interaction with your kids, that is what they need, that is the attention that they crave, and nothing should ever replace it! <br />
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Don't get bent out of shape if Elmo teaches your kids their colors first. If I could, I would give Elmo a tickle or two in gratitude for all that he has done for me!Rachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00084058139523470713noreply@blogger.com2