I Called Her Nana, She called me "R"

 The woman I am referring to in the title is my Mother-in-love.  When  I Tell you that she was a 

hot mess let me just say there are no truer words.

Nana was a one of a kind.  She was Southern to the core, accent included.  She was a spitfire full of

 love, determination, grit, and had a heart of gold.   If you decided to act a fool she would not be on

 board with that, I don't care who you are.  

I met her  son in the Spring of 1979.  His name is Steve.  Steve and I began dating in June of 1980.  I

 had been wanting to meet his parents, but we were a good distance apart geographically and Steve

 worked a lot so a day trip to meet them hadn't been possible.  One day, when I was out with his little

 sister, she decided to take me by their house to meet his mom. 

  She seemed like the sweetest woman ever, and had an amazing sense of humor.  I loved her

 immediately.  I didn't know it at the time, but there were many more facets to

her.  I could not have begun to image that day how much more there was to her personality.

The woman loved antiques, dishes, picture frames with family photos, costume jewelry, and all 

forms of nonsense (my sister-in-loves term for Knick knacks).  She stopped at every antique store and

 yard sell she passed. 

Nana had her house so full she couldn't put a thing anywhere.  She even had my nephew hang 

shelves over her door frames for more nonsense.   When we would visit, myself or one of her

 daughters, if we said we liked something she would give it to us. She would then visit us and say

"This is cute.  I'm taking it back".  Hot mess.

The piece I loved the most hung over her stove and said "Simplify".   I mean crack up! 

Her home, when I first met her was classy and elegant, as she aged it became quaint and precious. 

She raised four wonderful children and worked hard her entire life.  She loved deeply.  She was 

the person that bought gifts for us that were precious treasures Things she knew we would love. Example:

She and I were in an antique store one day, and I saw a Currier and Ives plate and told her that

my Granny, whom I dearly loved, had them and they made me think of her. The next Christmas she

gave me an entire set including serving pieces.  She was so thoughtful.

I have  decided to write about this amazing woman here and share a few of her stories with all of 

you so here goes...

Steve (Her son) and I were married in 1983, and when our first anniversary came he bought me a Gucci

 watch. She came to the house, shortly there after, and Steve was at work.  Nana spotted the watch and

 asked me where I got it. I told her it was my anniversary present from Steve, and she said "Do you

 have the box?" I said yes ma'am.

She said get the box , we are returning it. You don't need it. I was in shock, but I complied. She marched

right up to the jewelry counter at the mall and returned it.  I know now that she was absolutely right.

She was teaching us about needs and wants.

Nana came to our house on another occasion and she brought me an oven mitt and some potholders

that she found to match the Waverly Rose pattern I was using in my kitchen at the time. I told her that

 she was so sweet to do that.  I then asked her if she would pick me up another set when she went back

 home to Florida if I gave her the money.  She asked me why?  I said in case I scorch or burn one of

 these. Without missing a beat she looked right at me and said "You've gotta cook something to burn 

something R.".  

Nana was a spitfire for sure.  She told me a story from when she was about 16.  She said that her

Mama suspected that her father was being a bit messy to put it politely.  That being said, one day

Nana, her mama, and her cousin Delia Mae decided to squad up and follow him.  They drove to

where they thought he would be.  Unfortunately for him, they were spot on. When they had him in

sight, they saw that he had a woman in the passenger seat of his car.  They followed him to his

 destination....  The woman's apartment.  Nana said her mother, who was with child at the

time, jumped out of the car and as luck would have it, spotted a 2x4 laying in the parking lot. 

Yes honey...A weapon of opportunity.  Nana's mother grabbed said weapon and headed toward 

the passenger side of her husband's car, at which point her husband made a grave error.  He

 He started toward Nana's mama to rescue said woman, at which point Delia Mae got involved.

She intended to stop him.  Nana said "That's when he made a huge mistake.  He pushed Delia Mae."

Nana said "When he did, I jumped up on his back and started poking my fingers in is eyes as hard as I 

could,, while Delia Mae beat him about the head and shoulders with her fists. This statement

 caused me to envision a lightweight boxer and a spider monkey, but I kept my thoughts to myself.  I'm

 not sure How the other woman faired.  I am guessing not to well, but I know this much...The Victory

 went to the Squad that day. I suppose it's true...Crazy in the south runs deep.

She was a protector of her Mama and of her daughters. One of her daughters unknowingly married

a man who was meaner than a snake.  He decided to push her or something one night at their house.

He didn't know Nana good yet.  One of her grandsons called and told her what was going on and a 

few short minutes later she walked through the front door, grabbed a candelabra off the mantle, marched over to him, flung his water in his face and gave him what for with the candelabra.  Situation handled.

Nana had five grandchildren, four boys and a girl.  The girl belongs to me.  She wasn't really the 

the rowdy type.  Her grandsons, however, could be off the chain so to speak.  When they would start

doing the most Nana would always Yell..."I'm going to whip you Asses right now if you don't quit", 

or "Get me my yardstick.".  Later in her life she had a heart attack and had to have open heart surgery.

All the Grands were older by then, and while she was still in intensive care one of the boys and my

daughter went back into  CICU to see her..   The two of them came out, laughing and crying.  I said 

what's wrong and my nephew said "She's going to be fine R." I said how do you know that? He said

"She looked up at me and said "I can't do it right now, but when I get up, I'm going to whip your

Ass.".  

On another Occasion my nephew was staying with me after coming home from overseas, where he had

 been serving in the military.  He and my son were in the bedroom playing a game on their computers,

and Nana had also come for a visit. It was around 3 in the morning. My husband and I were sleeping.

 I woke  up to Nana screaming and yelling at the boys (Men) , running from one to the other hitting

 them with a plastic coat hanger and saying "Get off the silly ass games and lay down!"  My over 6'ft.

 tall nephew, who keep in mind, had just returned from war.. stood up  and said go lay back down you

 little Ewok... Her height?  around 5'.  Like I said before she didn't care who you were.  when I got back

 to bed my husband said what was all of that about? .I said that was your mother beating our son and

 my favorite freedom fighter with a plastic coat hanger for being up to late...I had to laugh.  Again...

Hot mess.

One day Nana and I were talking on the phone, and I mentioned that I was having a hard time

going to sleep at night.  She said "Okay, do this...Relax and image it as you think to yourself  

My toes are so relaxed, my feet are so relaxed, my ankles are so relaxed, my calves are so relaxed and

just go all the way up your body." Followed by "I hardly ever get past my knees.". Hot mess express.

Nana always had myself and one other brother-in-law doing all the things she needed done.  One day 

my brother-in-law said "you do realize we are the outlaws."  I said what are you talking about? He 

said she never asks the other two brother-in-laws to do anything.  They are the in-laws."  I said oh okay. 

One of them is an engineer and the other is an attorney. I know she considered the engineer extremely handsome which he is, and the other is handsome as well but all Nana needed to hear about him was the word attorney.  

In the Winter of 2014, she came up to visit Steve and I.  She wasn't feeling well so we took

her to the local hospital where she was diagnosed as needing a heart valve replacement.  She was

told that she wouldn't live very long without the surgery.  We all begged her to have the surgery.  She

was tougher than nails, but she refused.  She said she had done everything she wanted to do. Steve and 

I took her home and her health began to decline.  Her daughters came to visit and help take care of her,

 but I was her primary caregiver and spent a lot of time alone with her. She shared more stories.  Stories

 about her teenage years, and hanging out with the drugstore cowboys, evidently the bad boys of her

 time, her marriage, and stories about each one of her children and what it was like raising them.  

Nana loved the old tv series Hart To Hart. I would watch an episode with her daily. One afternoon she 

began yelling for me and I went running down the hall to see if she was okay. She was fine, just

super excited.  She said "R it's a Hart To Hart marathon!"  I was internally thinking Oh Lawd..not a 

marathon, but I lay myself down on the couch at the foot of her bed and we talked, laughed, shared 

stories and I learned many things about her that day that I never knew.  I thank God today for that

Marathon.

As the days came and went she begin to sleep more and talk less.  I was cleaning her room one day

and she said "R, am I dying?"  I said you are very sick.  I asked her if she remembered refusing the

heart surgery and she said yes.  I told her that I couldn't answer that question that only God knew

the answer to that.  She said "what is the good Lord waiting on?" I again had to answer with I don't

 have an answer Nana .".I read Mary Kay Andrews books to her, Sang "How Great Thou Art to her and 

talked about God and Heaven and what we thought it would be like..

One of the last afternoons that she was able to speak she said "R when I go you are going to be 

the one who will find me. I've already seen it." Lord I prayed not .  One of the very last things she said

 to me, as tears slipped from her eyes and mine was "R, you are not my daughter-in-law, you are my

 daughter and I love you like my own.".   I knew in that moment that all of the times she corrected me

or told me something I needed to hear , but might not have been quite ready to hear, she was treating

 me like she treated her own, and I cried harder.  I held her in a long hug and told her that I loved her

 beyond words.

Nana was right....  On the evening of September 14th, 2015 I  came into  her room and

God had taken her home.  She was at peace.  I kissed her gently as my tears fell. and I thanked her for

all that she had done for me, and I let her know again how very much I loved her.

Nana most definitely left a void in me, but I am so grateful for her presence in my life, for her

stories, her sense of humor, and most of all for her precious son that I was blessed to be married to.

When I close my eyes I can still hear her recounting one of her stories, and I smile.  

Nana, Life with you was quite a ride and I am so grateful that your son gave me a ticket....

I'll see you when I get there....Love you always "R"

 

                                               

                            My Granddaughter,  My Lady Bug, Beautiful, Amazing, Loving

I have a granddaughter whom I love with all my heart.  She is beautiful, brilliant and loving.  I tell

Her all the time that if God had ask me to place an order for my first grandchild I couldn't have done a 

better job.

She is so amazing.  She was born with the the biggest blue eyes that you could imagine, a heart of gold, and just a sprinkle of sass.  She has the voice of an angel, has phenomenal grades, has starred in and directed as well as produced plays. She has been nothing but a blessing since the day she was born.  Her name is Victoria.  She has my heart.

 When she was a toddler, being the southern grandmother that I am, I taught her that she needed a floral printed ladies handkerchief that had been lightly sprayed with perfume in her purse, along with a clear lip-gloss and a bath and body mist just incase she forgot to perfume up before she left the  house.  I also let her know that pearls were a staple and were always a great choice.  (She had necklaces, bracelets, and earrings that were pearls.  I made sure she was prepared for life). 

The following is a bit more insight into her precious self:

She spent the night with me often and I used a Lavender Lotion from Bath & Body works that was called Sleepy Time.  She ask me one night, as we were getting ready for bed, what it was and I told her.  She asked me for some, and as I was rubbing some on her arms, her little eyes started opening and closing slowly like she was falling asleep standing up.  I suppose she thought it acted on you immediately.  It was the cutest thing ever and she asked me for it every night after for the longest time.

On another occasion, when she was spending the night, as she crawled into bed with me she said Mimi I want to tell you something.  I said sure baby, what is it?  She said a like this boy at school I said you do? She said yes. She followed that up with, I'm not going to kiss him though...I thought to myself praise God but I responded aloud with well that's good.  Think you might be a little young for that.  She said yeah and I only like him eighty eight, You've got to like them one hundred to kiss them. It was all I could do not to crack up.  She fell asleep and I immediately called her mother.  I said well there's about a twelve point differential between you and disaster over at the church.  (Victoria went to a Christian kindergarten).  She said what are  you talking about ? I told her and  she said oh Dear Lord.  I said exactly...Let us pray.

We had the most amazing tea parties with my Old Country Roses china, wearing tiara's, of course, and went for rides in my VW convertible, with the top down,  singing our favorites songs to the top of our lungs. We shopped till we dropped and spent so many nights together.  We had spa days and lunches and were always together.

My twin sister kept her, when her mother was at work, and when my sister would come to the door in the mornings she would say, loudly, "Where is she?", to which Victoria would inevitably reply "She's right here.", while standing proudly at the front door.  One morning, however, My sister came in the front door and asked the daily question, and Victoria replied, "She's in here, and she can't find her pearls." She was a hot mess.

Victoria also had a Little Tykes kitchen set in my kitchen, and when she would cook with her plastic food, she would be playing and cooking so sweetly and then, suddenly, without warning, she would started hurling the plastic food so hard it would literally round the corner and hit the front door.  My husband would look at me solemnly and say "Hell's Kitchen".  That baby was just obviously tired and needed a nap.

At one point her favorite movie was Chronicles of Narnia.  She was about 3  years old.  She decided to speak only using a British accent, and informed me that she wanted everyone else to speak in one as well or she may not hear us.  I mean Crack up!  So I began to the best of my ability to do as she wanted.  That same afternoon when her Pop Pop came in from work and he spoke to her he got no response.    After repeating himself at least 3 times he looked at me and said in an alarmed voice, "is there  something wrong with her hearting? I said she is not going to answer you unless you use an British accent.  He said what the heck???? I said just do it.  He gave it his best and she answered him  He went upstairs shaking his head.  It was a great moment.

I worked at a high school around the same time and I came home from work saying that I had to write a child up for misbehaving and Victoria ask me what that was and I explained it to her little self.  She immediately secured herself a tablet and a pen and anytime someone, most often her grandfather, would aggravate her she would take her pen and begin to "Write them down" as she called it.  I can't begin to tell you how many times I heard "Pop Pop I'm going to write you down"...it was hilarious.

Well...I blinked and that baby grew up.  She now attends an SEC university, is in a sorority, works, volunteers, and donates to the animal shelter in the county she goes to school in.  To say that she is busy is a complete understatement.   I am beyond proud of her.  I want to be the woman she already is.

When she was a Junior in high school I had a talk with her about college.  We were laying on my bed and she was saying how she knew I probably wanted her to go to college online and she laughed.  ( I am that person that wants my treasures right up under me).  I said I get why you think that, but I want you to go wherever your heart leads you.  Roots and wings.  I said your roots are here with me, but I would never want to be what holds you back from your dreams. I love you to much for that.  The next fall it was time to order her senior ring.  She came downstairs with the form and I said "Oh look, you have a quote on the inside. I have a quote book if you want to see it."  She said Mimi, I already have the quote. She said it's Roots and Wings...I cried buckets.

She went on to receive Invitations to colleges that were far to many to count across the nation, and even one from abroad. She even had an interview with Harvard,  but she chose one not to terribly far from home.  

 She came home last Summer.  I was thrilled and I praised God for the time with her.  She has kept me laughing, even when I don't think she meant to.  Examples:

Let me preface this by saying that she has a thing for tall guys.  As her freshman year was approaching I let her know that I had been praying for her to be in a nice, clean, safe dorm and for her to love it.  Fast forward and it's move in day.  As she and I were moving boxes into her dorm there were so many young men who were kindly holding the doors for us and being so polite.  When we had everything inside her dorm she look and me and said "Meems (a slang term, derived from Mimi)  all of the guys here are so tall.  I said "yes they are, and there are so many of them."  I got her all settled in and with a broken heart I left.  The next day I get a phone call from her and she was so excited!!  She said "Meems! I found out why the guys in my dorm are so freakishly tall...My dorm is with the basketball team!!!! Look at God!!"  I cracked up and then I said "Victoria that is not what I prayed for, but good for you!!".

Like I said she has been home this summer and one day she came flying down the steps and she said "I have an announcement!"  I said "okay, Let's hear it."  She said I'm going to live my life like a Kardashian.  I'm going to continue with Orange Theory, eat salads the size of my head, and take up tennis.  That is all."" I gave her my credit card and she headed out to Academy Sports for a couple of tennis skirts and again....Crack up.

She began a new job at a restaurant as a waitress.  She came home after the first night of training and announced (welled up with tears) that she wasn't going to be able to do it.  I asked her why and she said the trays are huge and they weigh a ton...all the while demonstrating with her right hand for effect.  When she was done with her spill, I said "Victoria, that is your right hand.  Are you carrying the tray with your right hand?  She said "That's the way they showed us in training.".  I said "Okay, is that a rule?  That you have to carry it in your right hand, I mean/".  She said "no, they didn't say that.". I said fantastic, because you are left handed. Now, why don't you try using your left hand tomorrow night? Just a thought."  Needless to say the next night went much better for her.  She makes great money there now and all is well.

She would have friends coming over and she would come downstairs, stopping midway, and announce " Prepare the Charcuterie!  The crew is coming!" (Jokingly of course, said because her friends were coming over.) She has her own get togethers at her house now for movies nights and such with her work friends, and her friends from college. She ordered a large balloon for one of  these events.  She sent me a picture of the package.  I said oh that is a lot of balloons and looks complicated.  You may have to get someone to hep you with that.  She replied with "Oh no, I'm not collaborative. I understood completely.  It reminded me how much I disliked group projects at school.  I was always the worker bee. 

Another, incident...she came  downstairs and announced that the coach of the Lacrosse team was very attractive.  She said "I'm going with my friend to his Lacrosse practice.  I have to learn what I can about the game.(Said friend being a frat boy that happens to play Lacrosse)".   Please let me add that this coach was very young. Her brother, being a typical 13 year old, then pipes up and says "You don't have a chance.", to which she replied "all coaches flirt with their students, so let's start there."   I'm sitting there listening and thinking Lord have mercy on a grandmother.

This same brilliant young women called me back during winter and announced that her car was broken, and that she couldn't get the door to open.  It was stuck, according to her.  I don't know a lot about vehicles, but I did have enough sense to let her know that her car was not indeed broken, but that it was 29 degrees outside and the door was frozen shut.  She was very relieved and I couldn't help but chuckle when I hung up the phone. 

 Spring came and she called to announce to me that she doesn't like "boom" weather.  I said "pray tell...what is boom weather?".  She said "You know Meems, it's storms, thunder and lightening."...God love her.  I told her I didn't care for boom weather myself, and hung the phone up thinking how cute she is, and seeing that three year old looking up at me wanting me to make everything alright.

As you can tell by now,  she is very entertaining, and she is fabulous, fearless, driven, respectful,  loves her brother and makes sure to spend  time with him, sends me texts every night to let me know that she is home for the night and each morning to say good morning and I love you so that I know she is okay.   It is my God given privilege to see her achieving one goal after the other.  To say that I am proud of her doesn't begin to touch the way I feel.  I take a moment everyday to thank God for her....I'm going to do that very thing here, publicly........Thank you God!!

  Victoria.......I love you beyond words.  

She Doesn't Cook For Me: The Back Story

    Steve loves to tell everyone that I don't cook.  His go to one liner is "She doesn't cook for me." He neglects to tell the back story,and so for that reason, I'm going to do it here,  just to clear things up.

     Years ago, when we hadn't been married very long, I would rush home from work to cook dinner.  I'd have it on the table when he walked in the door from work.  He was a detective at the time and got home around 5:30 on most days.

     Now when I say I had dinner ready I don't mean ready as in it's on the stove, make you a plate and sit down.  Not even close.  I mean I had the table set.  Linen table cloth on the complete with folded linen napkins, meat on a platter, vegetables in bowls, Ice in glasses, and the tea pitcher there for refills.

     I did my best to mimic my Granny's table on a Sunday afternoon after church. I wanted to be the best wife that I could be and I felt like making dinner and having it ready for him was part of that.

     Well, as it turns out, I was an overachiever. Steve came in the door one day and said the words that he would regret for years.  He looked at the dinner table and he said "I am so sick and damn tired of dinner hitting me in the face when I walk in the door." I don't think my feelings have ever been hurt that badly in my life. I just looked at him, and then a bit of anger crept in to accompany my hurt feelings. I said only one thing..."That won't ever be a problem again Dick Tracy.”

     I'm not sure if he thought I was kidding and would just chalk it up to him having a bad day or
not, but if he thought that I was going to just let that little comment go, he was sadly mistaken. I mean he had a problem, and I am a problem solver.

     The next evening when he came walking in the door he was staring at a table that was as empty as a water bucket in a drought.  I mean I had even moved the flowers from the center of the table for effect.  You could have heard a pin drop.  He was so shocked and confused. He couldn’t have found his rear end with both hands in his back pockets.

     I don't remember how long it took me to cook for him again, but when I finally did it was
greatly appreciated. I still cook every now and then ,but it was so rare at first that his Mom even noticed. She stopped by one day and had brought me two oven mitts that matched the Waverly Rose pattern I had in my kitchen at the time. She asked me if that was my pattern and I said it was and asked her if  she saw them again would she pick me up a couple more. I said I would like to have them for back ups in case I burn or scorch one. She said "R, you have to cook something to burn something.".

    Quite a bit of time had passed since Steve's "Great" remark, and I almost felt bad that she'd noticed I wasn't cooking very much.  Notice I said almost.  My feelings had been hurt that day so badly that I just couldn't embrace the guilt.

     We laugh about it now, but I still rarely cook.  I mean seriously. I said he wouldn't have to worry about dealing with dinner being in his face again and I meant it. What kind of wife would I be if I put him through that again? Bless his heart..

   



   



   

Daddy's Humor...None Like It

     Today is the anniversary of my Daddy's leaving this Earth for Heaven.  I woke up and started 

crying the way I have the last few years on this date.. I was sitting in tears and then I began to roll the film in my mind of memories that I have of him. Many of them include his hilarious sense of humor.   

I thought it would be much better to write about some of those times than to cry buckets all day.  

Write is what I did.  I want to share some of my memories with you here and I hope they 

make you smile.....

On one occasion, back in the 90's Daddy stopped by my house and I just happened to be outside getting my mail.  He got out of his truck and we were talking.  I was barefooted and had on a toe ring. He looked down at my foot and back up at me, and he said "Damn sugar,  He's got you banded like a homing pigeon." (In reference to my husband, of course).

There was another time when my mom had an accident and wrecked her car.  She had repeatedly hit deer, because she lived in the country and so this was like the 3rd time at least. We were standing outside at my sister's and she looked at Daddy and said "Do you think you can fix blah blah blah." whatever it was on her car, (I can't recall now) and he looked at her so seriously and he said "I tell you what to do sugar.  Get you a crash helmet and paint double zero on the side."  I cracked up.

Another time that came to mind was when I was a teenager.  My twin sister Darlene had a 1968 

Camaro and she earned herself one ticket after the other for running the same exact stop sign 

near our house.  I was with her one day and she got pulled over at the same stop sign and she 

received ticket number 3, I believe it was.  We pulled up at home and Daddy was outside in the yard.  Darlene got out of the car yellow paper in hand and he just looked at her.  She walked up to him (I was spectating, of course) and he said "What did you get that one for?" She told him it was for the same stop sign and the look on his face priceless.

He said "Dolly.  Do you see that sign up there on the corner?  She said "Yes sir I do.".  He said "what does it say?"   She said "Stop."  he said "Okay, now go out back to the shed and get a shovel and then you and your sister go on over there and dig up that stop sign and bring it home with you, because it's yours.  You bought and paid for it.".  Love him!!

One Day he was riding down to my mom's with her for something, and they were on a desolate road and came upon a house where a man was sitting on his porch.  He waved to them as they passed by.  My mom said "See  how friendly everyone is here?" Daddy replied with "Friendly, Hell, he's just glad to see somebody.". 

I was at Daddy's house one day and we were standing on his driveway.  My cell phone rang and I said this thing has rang all day, and it's driving me nuts.  He said "That ain't no problem sugar, just lay it right down there under the back tire of Daddy's  truck , because that's what I fixin' to do with mine and I'll just back over 'em and crush 'em.".

When his Mama passed he was devastated.  He loved her very much and understandably, the day of her funeral was very hard for him.  When we were done at the cemetery one of my Aunts said that her church had prepared food and another said that hers had, and that after everyone had gone and had something to eat, they were going to meet back at my grandmothers house.  They were going to look at her pictures and share memories. I walked up to Daddy and I said "Daddy are you going to do all those things with them?"  He said "Hell no, I'm going to the house.  They're taking the shit on tour."  I cracked up again...My Daddy 

was who he was.

After thinking about all of these stories and so many more I realized that what my Daddy was doing was teaching me to laugh in adversity and what a precious gift that has been for me.  A survival tactic. 

Today I just want to say that his lesson has really come in handy. Remembering him and the way he handled things reminded me to laugh and to survive....

Thank you Daddy for all the laughs and for drying my tears from such a great distance on a day that is so very hard for me....

I love you always....

High School Car Line...Let's Go

     Let me begin by saying it has been many years since I found myself in a school car line.  Now  unexpectedly, here I am on round two with my granddaughter.  That's right.  I'm back, but I'm coming with experience.

     I was naive the first time, but I'm a fast learner.  This car line business is no joke.  There are unspoken rules and such, but before we talk about that I have to mention a few dress code changes that have occurred  since the last time I was here..

     Dress code changes you ask?  Yes.  There seems to be only one rule these days as far as dress code goes and it's simply do not attend school in your birthday suit or anything close to it.  My observations on the new standard of dress these days are as follows:

1) Don't feel like brushing your hair?  No problem.  Messy bun looking like you slept in it?  Great
     choice.
2)  Not really wanting to get dressed today?  Again, no problem. Go ahead and just rock those pajama pants you slept in last night.  Yes Lord you are so cute!

3)  By all means, wear your flip flops or the most comfortable shoes you can find.

4)  Hungry this morning?  Come on in with your sunglasses on your head and your Bojangles biscuit sack.  I mean a person has to eat.

5)  There are two accessories that are a must.  Your iPhone, and your Starbucks cup of coffee.

Now I have to say that not all of the student population adheres to this new dress code.  There are those girls, like my granddaughter, that actually choose to get dressed in daytime apparel, curl their hair,  and apply a little makeup each day, as well as some boys that wear jeans and t-shirts, but  the Starbucks, iPhone rule of accessories still applies to these overachievers.

Okay, moving on...

There are several types of parents in the car line.  Usually women but a few men.  Lets address the men first, because they come in one type. Getting it done.  That's it.  Their biggest hurdle is learning the ropes on the way the line moves. When they've got that down pat, it's pull up, child gets out without any other confusion including conversation.  The door just opens, child gets out, Dad pulls away.

Now the moms.  Moms come in several types:
1)  The no nonsense mom:  She is much like a Dad, pulls up, child gets out, off she goes. This is the same mom who doesn't care how far back in the car line she is when the release bell rings.  A few of these moms even have their child climbing up a hill that is as steep as Mt. Everest without a rope at the end of the day, so that they can avoid driving down into the parking lot and getting in all of that mayhem.  Underachievers.

2)  The yoga pants mom:  She has on full make-up with the exercise gear.  She is always smiling, perky, and has a Starbucks cup of her own.  I was an actual eyewitness to one of these moms getting out of her SUV and washing the windows around the entire vehicle while waiting in the afternoon car line.  Now I am here to tell you, she is either a constant multi-tasker, the look at me type, she has major OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), or she needs to steer clear of the Red Bull cooler.  

3)  The Helicopter mom:  Her babies are her life.  She is the one who pulls right up to the front door    of the school to prevent her baby from having to walk two or three extra feet. She hovers over him/her while they are trying to get out of the car.  The seat belt unfastening takes so long others  begin to wonder if it's a car seat or a booster seat situation by chance.  She then has to ask him/her if they have lunch money?  a snack?  Do they need money for anything else that day?  She clings to her baby like a rain soaked cotton dress. When she finally allows her child to exit the vehicle you check your watch to see if it's 3:15.  No need to go home if you are going to have to turn around and come right back.  This woman is the one who will be first in line this afternoon. Bank on it.

4)  The Mimi (me): Was the helicopter mom in days gone by, but now is a bit more relaxed. Allows her granddaughter to pick the departure time, which is something like 7:54 or some odd time. Leaves wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt, holding a coffee mug full of residential coffee with her face being a make up free zone.  Big sunglasses, messy bun, and some lip balm and she's ready to roll  out.  She understands that if you pull up right in front of the door for your baby to get out, he/she would be socially ruined and have to move and change their name.  The only question she has before the drop off is what my granddaughter refers to as "The question of the morning", Do you have lunch money?  Her last statement is always "Have a great day and I love you.".

I am still guilty of leaving my house an hour before the afternoon release bell rings so that I can be at the head of the line.  I can't let go of all my helicopter mom traits and I know my baby is tired..  I have to ask about the lunch money or I'd go nuts worrying about it all day and I will say I love you as she gets out every time without fail.  There is one more thing that I do that she knows nothing about.  I pray a hedge of protection around her and that school each and every morning, because the world we live in now is the real difference.

Just a side note for all of you car liners out there...it's a blessing to have that little bit of one on one time with your babies...enjoy it, talk to them about their day....time flies.  I promise you it does.
   

My Scars, My Pain, My God...

When we were about sixteen months old, my twin sister and I had really bad colds.  My Daddy sat a hot water vaporizer on a chair by the bed we were taking a nap on.  I was restless I suppose, and I rolled of the bed and hit the cord on the vaporizer spilling the hot water on myself.  I suffered 3rd degree burns on a great deal of my body.  My gown was actually going into my skin the burns were so deep and the water was so hot. I also suffered burns on my face.

  I was taken to Georgia baptist hospital, where I had some surgeries and my parents were told that they weren't sure I would survive.  I remained there for 3 months.  I had skin grafts done to repair some of the damage to the right side of my chest.  The skin was taken from the inside of my thighs and used to help with healing.   I used a wheelchair for getting around, when I was finally allowed out of  my hospital  room.

The road was long, but I had wonderful Christian parents to take care of me and many prayer warriors in my family, and  so it was God's will that I survived.

What remained were scars on the top of my left arm and forearm and the entire underside of my right arm. There were also scars on the right side of my chest as well as the ones from my skin grafts on my inner thighs.  There were scars on my face, but God was great to me again and the scaring there was very faint.

As time passed, and I healed completely I didn't think of my scars very often.  I played outside with family and no one at church or in our family ever mentioned them to me. That all changed one day when they were brought to my attention in a cruel way.

  I was four years old and it was my first day of Kindergarten.  My twin sister and I had just gotten to school, and in no time a little boy saw my arms and began making fun of me.  I was beyond devastated.  I had never experienced anything like that, nor had I even entertained the thought of it  happening.

I didn't tell the teacher or anyone.  I just slipped off quietly, cried, and hid behind a big wooden easel that was in the area where we were to paint.  I stayed hidden there all day long.  My sister came and talked to me a few times when she could, but otherwise I was alone.  I felt so ashamed.  That little boy had changed my view of myself in that moment, and there was nothing that could undo the damage he had done to my four year old self.  He had also stolen my joy, and the carefree feeling that comes with being so little.  I didn't understand at that time that I was a child of God, and that the scars didn't matter.  I just thought that I had scars and they made me ugly and different.

The bullying continued... for example in second grade I was standing in line, in the lunchroom, and a little boy in my class (I can still remember his name) began to call me "bacon arms".  I wanted the floor to swallow me up.  When he became tired of it, he finished it up with "No one is ever going to marry you."  I went home and cried and cried because in my heart I felt that he was right.

Third grade came and with it, no difference.  A boy in my class that year began rubbing his ink pen back and forth on his desk top very fast to heat it up, and then sticking the pen to the scar on my left arm until it began to bleed.  I said nothing.  My sister noticed what he had done, punched him in the nose, and then he was the one bleeding.  We all wound up in the office. Out of all of that, all I felt was humiliation and guilt.  Guilt that it was all my fault for having the scars in the first place.  I felt so bad that my sister was in trouble (Not at home), and the fact that everyone knew what he'd been doing to me was the humiliating factor.  In my mind it just brought way to much attention to my scars.

High school came and I was dating age.   I had a crush on what I considered the cutest guy ever to walk the face of the Earth.  This was perfectly normal for my age, and all of my friends were talking to me about their crushes, but I never said a word.  I knew no one would ever want to go out with me least of all the guy I had the crush on, so I just listened to them and kept my secret.

God was good to me and that very boy asked me out and we dated for quite awhile.  I was in Heaven and couldn't believe he wanted to be with me of all people.  I knew so many other girls that wanted to go out with him.  He eventually broke up with me and I was heart broken, but thankful that God had given me that one season of happiness.

Against that second grade boys prediction, three years after my first boyfriend and I broke up  I married a very handsome man and had 2 beautiful children.

All through the years I wore long sleeves as often as I could to avoid as many questions and comments about my arms as possible.  I began a job as a substitute teacher when my son (my baby) was of school age, so as not to miss time with him.  I broke out the cardigan sweaters to cover my arms and I began subbing at the elementary school he attended.  It worked perfectly as far as being home when my children were home.

 A permanent position came open after I had been working there for about 2 years.  I applied and did not get the job.  I was heart broken because the administration had been so good to me.  They even let me choose, each day, which classroom I wanted out of the ones that were available for that day.

I left there really upset and drove right to the High school and gave them my card and my employee number.  They called me the next morning and so it began. I was placed in a special education classroom and I loved it!  The students were all so wonderful and so positive.  They were a blessing in my life.  A permanent position came open there in the Special Education Department and two of the administrators came to the classroom where I was working and offered me the job.

I accepted their offer.  A few years went by, and one day one of my students came up to me while we were in the gym and he was crying.  He said that he was being made fun of, and that he knew he was different and never going to have a girlfriend or anything like that.  It broke my heart.  I asked another teacher to watch my students and I went back to our classroom with him.  I talked to him about how wrong he was and how wonderful he was.

The fact that he was saying the same thing about himself that my classmate in 2nd grade had said about me really resonated with me.  The rest of the class came back from the gym and as they were being seated it dawned on me.  God had brought me here to this room to these children because he was turning my storm into something good.  I knew in that moment what I had to do.

I asked them all to listen to me, and I said that I had to talk to them about something very important.  At that point I said "I'm going to share something with all of you that I have tried my best to hide for at least 30 years.  I removed my cardigan sweater standing right in front of the class and I showed them my scars.  I said I was burned really badly as a small child and I am telling you all this so that when you come to me and tell me that you are not feeling good about yourself for one reason or another and I tell you that I totally understand you will know that I mean what I say.

I told them about my being bullied and picked on and made fun of during my school years and about people coming up to me and saying things like "Oh my God what happened to your arms?".  I told them that they were all beautifully and wonderfully made, and that they were blessings to me and to so many others because we were able to watch them shine and embrace life.  I also told them that people who pick on other people are hurting and in return hurt others.  Most of all I tried to express that they should love themselves as they are, and not waste years, like I had done, living in the shadow of myself.

They were listening so intently.  I apologized for trying to hide my scars, and I told them that unless it was actually so cold in the room that I couldn't stand it, I wouldn't be covering up my arms anymore.  I felt so free.  It was wonderful.  For the first time in my life I didn't care what anyone said.

You see, I knew in that very moment, that God had turned my storm into something good.  The reason I didn't get the job at the elementary school had nothing at all to do with man.  It was simply not the plan that God had for my life.  God knew that I belonged at that high school with those special need students.  He knew that I would not only love and care for them like they were my own, but that I would understand their pain, protect them, and show them that they are going to be okay because they are perfect in their own right.

I thank you God for the blessing of working with these children for so many years.   I praise you for knowing where I belonged, and for the healing that placing me there gave me.  Those students enriched my life in so many ways.  Far to many to list.  I just pray that having me in their lives touched them in a way they will always remember.

God is amazing.....Trust me, I know...

Romans 8:28 King James Version (KJV)

28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Burglary/Birthday Suit Debacle

     Let me begin by saying that as a teenager I loved to lay out in the sun during Spring and Summer. By in the sun I mean, full sun, partial sun, whatever was was overhead that day, count me and my lounge chair in.  The result at the beginning of the season each year would be a slight sunburn.

 One night, having such a burn, I decided the most comfortable sleepwear would be my birthday suit.  My twin sister and little sister, being much more modest than I was, thought I had lost my mind. Since they didn't share my bed, I didn't let their opinions stop me.  I took it right on down to my birthday suit and I was asleep in no time.   

When I woke up the next morning I declared to my twin sister how great I had slept and proceeded to try and convince her to join me.  Like I said she was very modest but after much insistence from me, and a small meltdown, she decided she'd give it a try.  The next morning when we woke up, I looked over at her in her bed and I said "Well?"  She said she had also found it very comfortable.  I said, "You're welcome.", and so began our summer of what I just knew was going to be blissful sleep....

Fast forward a few weeks to the night when I realized that my ideas at the age of 16 weren't always the brightest ones...One of Satan's foot soldiers had come to steal my bliss.

I was asleep,  in nothing but the birthday suit, when I suddenly heard my twin sister say "Arlene." She was low talking.  It was almost a whisper.  She said it again, followed by some very alarming words.

"Arlene, Do not scream and do not turn on the light. Someone is breaking in the window.  I can see his shadow."  I looked at the window and Dear God she wasn't lying.  My heart began to hammer and all I could think was I have got to get to my Daddy.   I grabbed my sheet while simultaneously rolling of the bed and wrapping myself  in said sheet as I went.   I arrived on the floor wearing a pink toga.   The next step was to hit my elbows and knees and start crawling...

I made it across the hall to Mom and Dad's bedroom looking like a foot  soldier under attack.  So there I was in my sheet, my curly hair going crazy trying to get my Daddy's attention without scaring off the man in the window. "Daddy, Daddy."  I repeated.....he jumped up and looked around, but he couldn't find me.

I said a bit louder..."Daddy I'm down here and someone is coming in our window!"  He jumped up off the bed and came around to his closet to get his gun and that's when he saw me.  He gave me an I'll revisit this bunch of crazy after I handle whatever's going on outside look.  He got the gun and went outside while my Mom called the police.

When the police had come and gone, and the man had gotten away, my Daddy came back inside.  I was standing in the kitchen, still wearing my toga and making a cup of coffee.  I braced myself for a lecture that never came.

My Daddy just looked at me, wearing his serious face, and he said "Sugar, that's why you need to sleep with some clothes on.  Daddy loves you.  Go and get some sleep."  

I had never loved him more.  He had saved me and been sweet about my crazy even though he didn't understand it.  I ditched the coffee Idea and headed back to my room.  I put a gown on and got in bed, and with my Daddy's protection the sleep I got was much better than a birthday suit could ever provide.

I love you Daddy....Always my Hero