Tag Archives: Wal-mart

Music makes the world go round

Leave a reply

We mommas do what we can.  Need some medicine . . . Mary Poppins comes to mind. More than once, I have sang “Whistle while you work” especially after spending the whole afternoon out in the garden. Dolly Parton and I are best friends (only she doesn’t know it) when I am balancing the checkbook online.  Singing for me makes any day just go better, and some days, it is the best I have to offer.

Over the weekend, I drove my children crazy! It was a nice role-reversal, I will confess. We are in graduation mode, preparing for our first high school commencement, and thus, are really trying to keep on top of all the details. At the same time, it means that we must be ever vigilant (that right there would have caused at least one of my kiddo’s eyes to roll) at keeping the house clean. As we were cleaning this weekend, we were simultaneously scanning in thousands (no joke) of film negatives and finalizing DVD’s which hold hours of our children’s early lives. The trip down memory lane has been well worth it.

To most people who have visited our home the whirlwind of frenetic activity which describes our weekend is definitely not surprising. We do crazy busy – well. For casual readers, my confession about disliking messes (okay, I loathe disorganization) was shared in my annual blog on the leprechauns a few days back. A few mommas were intrigued not by our wee visitors, but by my explanation of the cleaning day list.   When I still worked full-time (outside of my home – do not ever think this is not work) AND had three small children under the age of five, we had a cleaning lady.

Back in those days our life was blur! So much so that one time my parents came for a visit but were leaving for the airport after we had left for school, work, and daycare. When I got home that night, I was shocked (SERIOUSLY SHOCKED) that my sweet parents cleaned my house top to bottom. It was sparkling clean. Tears in my eyes and lump in my throat, I called to tell them how much their efforts meant to me. My dad stopped me cold. “Toot (don’t ask), we were enjoying our coffee, when this lady came right on in and started cleaning your house. We assumed you knew all about it.” First of all, there is something seriously wrong when my parents don’t check for credentials, but even more so that my life was so busy that I completely forgot it was cleaning lady day. On that second one; I am sure she was shocked because even though she always did a superb job, we ALWAYS cleaned for the cleaning lady. Lest she think we were living in a complete pig sty.

One day, we got the bright idea (I am telling you that sometimes we are parenting geniuses) we were not doing our children or the future college roommates any favors by letting them skip out on the day to day maintenance of this house. Who I am kidding? Once again, it is all about appearances. I did not want the college roommates to think my children were raised in barn. But seriously, mastering the skills of wrestling the world’s largest dust bunny, scrubbing a bathroom until it sparkles, and removing mystery stains from laundry should be required on college entrance exams. So with many tears (mostly shed by our children), we let the cleaning lady go to another lovely family. I’m pretty sure that “Help us!” sign I found later had been scribbled by one of our progeny. The sure give away was the “p” looked like a “d” and the “s” was backwards. Traitors! Sorry future college roommates! That day started the list method of cleaning.

While the list went well, there are other things (not list worthy) I just could not “let it go” (and yes, I did just totally sing that out loud) along with various other songs that just sprang forth over the weekend.

Here are a few examples:

After tripping over my children’s shoes at the front door, I decided to devise a system to say that unless they want me to break a hip and come to live with them in a few years, they better start lining up their shoes along the edge of the wall, toes touching the baseboards. I broke into “It’s all about the base, ‘bout that bass, no tripping. It’s all about that base, ‘bout that bass or you’re in trouble”. My kids then asked me how I knew that song. When I said I saw it over Thanksgiving, they informed me I was completely clueless because my version is a parody song about basting with butter.

The next shining moment came when one daughter stepped over the salad greens she had dropped on the kitchen floor to get more ice for her sweet tea (well, she is her mother’s daughter). This time I broke into, “Stop! In the name of love before you break my heart. Stop! And put that lettuce into the garbage can. Think it over! Do it now –ow- ow!”

My vast song memory (and although not required for this, my ability to sing) came in very handily this weekend. There was a brief rendition of “Don’t stop believing” when the faint-hearted among us thought the work would never be done. A few other songs joined my repertoire according to whatever grumble my children had at the moment.

This wasn’t my first foray into using song to get my point across. Long ago, back when our little town only had a small mecca of the South before it supersized, my children were asking me begging incessantly for a new toy. I finally had enough, and right there in aisle 17, I broke into a completely impromptu rap song about wanting more and more stuff. My children were astonished. My voice carried across the store, and I DID NOT CARE. Parents in the area were surprised, but I received more than a few “Atta girl’s”! The song was such a hit, that one dad even asked if I could sing it again. It was one of my proudest moments as a momma! Of course, this was long before cell phones where I am certain I would have been an internet sensation: “Crazy mom loses it in Wal-mart”!

Song-a-palooza or not, we got all the work done. The house was cleaned, another bazillion film negatives of precious memories were scanned in, various odd jobs were completed, and I think through the magic of music, I got my point across. Well, mostly. . . just watch that first step. Hope they are saving up for in home care!

My view while typing this blog.

My view while typing this blog.

And if it helps any momma (or daddy) out there needs it, here is the cleaning day list!

Cleaning day

What I want today . . .

3 Replies

Reed70

Last year for my dad’s birthday, we bought tickets to a baseball game for the local boys of summer, Pensacola’s very own – Blue Wahoos.  After a much enjoyed Whataburger and sweet tea (of course) lunch, we headed on down to the stadium – sunscreen in hand.  It was my first Wahoos game at a stadium right on Pensacola Bay.  As we were approaching our section, we noticed two ladies hop up from some seats and two gentlemen in what appeared to be our seats.  After a recheck with the ushers, the ladies that had left and the gentlemen now seated were, in fact, in our seats.  They apologized and moved one section over.  All was great until the ladies (and at this point, I use that term loosely) came back.  One of them announced (well, more like hollered), “You are in OUR seats.”  I politely answered that in fact these were our seats.  I tried to further explain, but was cut off by a woman with her face in mine yelling that she had paid good money for these seats.  I stood up and showed her my tickets as the usher stepped in stopping my mother from bopping her in the head.  The usher showed the two where their husbands were sitting and that they had sat in the wrong section in the first place.  Strangely,  no apologies were uttered.

Sadly, I get her frustration.  She wanted to watch a baseball game on Sunday afternoon, and she was proud of her seats.  I get it.  Did I like being yelled at? Nope.  But in the end, we all got what we came for that day.

Right now, I am feeling a giant passel of wants.  Today, my son, my beloved red-headed boy, should be graduating from high school.  But that isn’t going to happen, because he and three sweet other babes were killed when someone made a choice five years ago.  I knew this day would come, and I am trying to hold it together with the best grace that I can muster.

Here is a current list of my wants –

  • I want to tell everyone that my son is attending Yale. (The university he vowed in 6th grade he would attend.)
  • I want to be going crazy, cleaning and shopping and preparing, for a graduation party.
  • I want my eyes to stop hurting from the tears I have cried this week.
  • I want the pounding in my chest to stop hurting.
  • I want my thoughts to be clear, not insulating me from the pain that is going to come.
  • I want to remind a certain few that I am not apologizing for my emotions. There is and forever will be only one momma to Reed.
  • I want to hug my son today – not just see a gown on a chair where he should be.
  • Lastly and more importantly, I want to tell him just one more time how proud I am of him.

But just like those seats at the stadium, what we want and what we get are often two very different things.  So in the last couple weeks, I have clung – tightly- to the One who has collected each tear of mine in His bottle.   I asked Him to show me where He was in the midst of all of this.  It seems every salinated drop has provided spiritual vision that has opened the eyes to my soul.  In all honesty, my provisions have been great and had I blinked I might have missed:

  • The well wishing to another mom who is doing the crazy planning before I had a chance to feel sorry for myself.
  • The hugs from fellow moms of graduates who have sought me out when I needed them the most.
  • A mailbox flooded with invitations from Reed’s friends for their parties because those tender hearts want us to know we are loved.
  • The mom who held me when I sobbed on the front steps of the church on Sunday.
  • The friend almost a thousand miles away who has texted or called every day – just make sure that I am doing okay.
  • The friends who upon hearing my joke about taking up excessive drinking offered to do so with me – just so they could hear me laugh.
  • A midnight ice cream run with a friend because that can solve most of life’s problems.
  • The mom who gave me a pep talk in the Wal-mart parking lot telling me that each of the graduates who knew Reed well was going to change the world because his presence changed the world.
  • The friends that offered to sit with me at graduation to just to hold my hand and pass me Kleenex.
  • The church that called and asked for me to come and speak this weekend, numbing the empty void of no celebration, but more importantly, reminding me of what He has planned for my life and Reed’s story
  • An e-mail extraordinaire that gave me the strength to get out of bed today.
  • Continuing on in traditions – oh yeah – McDonald’s for breakfast on the last day of school.  We have to go on – even when it hurts.
  • A cell phone battery almost dead before 8:00 am filled with texts of love.

Even though the items on my first list hurt with an ache that I didn’t know was humanly possible, I look at that second list and I can feel God’s touch.  I hear His whisper of love and mercy.  I know that He will be there with His bottle collecting my tears, wiping away each one.  So that one day when I am reunited with Reed and I meet God in person, we are going to walk hand-in-hand to empty that bottle right on into the ocean.

Then I will stand before my Father with hands raised high – praising him for each and every sweet provision, including the chance to be Reed’s momma.   After that, I am going to hug the mess out of my boy!

This song says it all . . .

How sweet tea saved the day

2 Replies

sweet teaFor true followers of this blog, you know that I have been on a roller coaster ride with Mother Nature this spring.  At some points, like during the three day snowstorm in April, she and I were not even on speaking terms.  During one of those days, it became apparent that we were in for the long haul, and our menu was in a rut.  What does a wise and frugal mom do when you have your children home?  You make freezer meals – which roughly translated in kid speak is forced servitude, but nevertheless we had fun.

We did need a few supplies to round out our chosen meals, and I coaxed our newest driver into being my second. (Of course, it didn’t hurt that he is a lineman and could push if we got stuck, and undeniably he scrapes windows so much better than I.)  Before we left, I told him that I needed to get something to make sure we were prepared for our journey to roll-back price land.  He assumed (rather incorrectly) that I needed some cold weather preparedness item.  Pshaw!  Nope! What I went back for was the one thing that always makes my day brighter – iced sweet tea!

I didn’t just grab any glass. Oh no! I needed a Tervis tumbler so that my tea stayed nice and cold.  (I know what you are thinking. A blizzard in April wasn’t cold enough?) The shopping trip was successful, and I was never parched. Years before, I would have been eyed as rather odd carrying a glass of sweet tea through a foot of snow (uphill both ways).  Alright, I’m stretching it on the snow, but not the eyeballing.  I’ve carried Southern-style sweet tea with me for as long as have I owned my own cups, but it wasn’t until Uncle Si that people  stopped thinking it was weird.  It took loveable ol’ Si Robertson of Duck Dynasty and his trusty Tupperware cup and tea pitcher for people to realize that sweet tea isn’t just a beverage – it’s a way of life.

Recently, that sweet tea saved me (and my friend) from making a colossal mistake.  We are in the process of launching a new ministry, and we had decided on a name that we thought would represent our hearts desire (but more importantly God’s plan) for women – to know that they are not alone and that His grace covers every hurt.  We even launched a newsletter featuring that old name.  Then our marketing team said in a kind and gentle way, “Nuh-uh! You do not want to do that. You need something more personal and dynamic.”  Stunned! Where do we go from here?

Divine intervention actually came to me while thinking about that crazy trip to the store in the snowstorm. What is something signature about me?  Right there in that glass of orange pekoe and sucrose was the answer – sweet tea.  Thus, God granted me an epiphany into how amazing grace really is – it’s SWEET!

Amazing grace – how sweet the sound!

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. Psalm 34:8 (NIV)

Watch in the coming days to see just how good He really is! I promise it will be sweet!

Just when I thought I was safe

2 Replies
Picture found at www.awayathomemom.com whose blog on this subject made me chuckle.

Picture found at www.awayathomemom.com whose blog on this subject made me chuckle.

I had the honor of speaking to a MOPS group in a town not-so-far from my own this morning.  It was a blessing, bringing joy to my heart with the knowledge that my story of forgiveness touched other lives.  Time and time again, God has used events in my life to teach me about His heart for forgiveness.  Totally unscripted as I stood there before those sweet mommas; I knew how I was to end the talk.

Without forgiveness, mercy and grace are just words. 

It was a great experience, and I am glad I had the chance to go.  But that isn’t what I am choosing to share with y’all.  No, today I am going to share one of those divine appointments that just make you smile.

One my drive to the church, I had drunk a large Coke which didn’t seem to be a problem until I was backing out of the parking lot to head home.  Now here is a serious lesson in pride – something this girl could use some work on.  I was too prideful to scoot back in and ask to use the church’s restroom.  Racking my brain on what was available in Montevideo, I made a bee-line to the mecca of all Southern girls: Wal-mart.

As I entered into the bathroom, I ran into a mom of one of my children’s former classmates.  We hadn’t seen each other in a while, and I don’t think she recognized me at all.  Thus, it wasn’t time for a reunion in the potty department. First, I really had to go, and second, who does that?  Hey!  I know our daughters were not really friends, but your child used to be a classmate of my child.  So nice to see you!  Glad we bumped into each other.  I love what they’ve done with the place.  That probably never really happens.

I soon discovered that this mom wasn’t using the facilities, in the traditional sense.  Nope! Instead of bathroom, it was her conference room. She was having a cell-phone conversation with another one of her children (who apparently made a bad choice at school).  She proceeded to coach the child on what she expected of him; told him, yes in fact, he was in trouble; and explained how he was to apologize the teacher and make better choices for the rest of the day.  She ended with the words all children need to hear: I love you.

Then it came over me, and I knew why God put me in THAT bathroom at THAT very time. Seriously God! I am tinkling here, and you want me to tell that Mom you are proud of her. 

Apparently, her child thought the conversation was over and hung up.  But this mom called back to the school to make sure she connected with the teacher. (This was a good thing because I still needed to wash and dry my hands, and I didn’t want to have to chase her around the rolled-back discounts.)

While she was on hold, I walked right over to her and said, “If no one has told you this in a while, God wants you to know:  YOU are a really good momma.”  I stayed long enough to see tears well up in the corner of her eyes, and then I excused myself.

I keep my eyes and ears open to how I can bless others, but this was new. . . even for me.  So I guess, today I am thanking God for good mommas and full bladders.