Time for some Abby pictures!

I realize that it has been quite a while since I posted any new pictures of Abby, so here I am, posting pictures of the angel.

These are some from this summer, our fall against the coffee table and resulting pump knot, and Abby's new favorite past-time, taking folded clothes out of the laundry basket.

Enjoy!

Here's the shot of Abby's poor forehead after she fell against the edge of the coffee table one Sunday. Just like when she fell out of her crib, her Uncle Kenny got a frantic call just to make sure she was okay. She was.

Here's the angel sleeping. She didn't even stir when the flash went off. Aren't those turtle pajamas precious!

This is Abby taking all her clothes out of the clothes basket. She loves this game, but Mommy hates it! If it keeps her occupied, I guess Mommy will just have to endure it.



One of Mommy's favorite games is putting Abby in the clothes basket, but Abby doesn't like that very much. "Oh, Mommy!"

My Miracle Jewelry

I know this is a strange title for a post, but I have to share with you this small miracle.

Meredith just wrote about allergies and acquiring new ones, and although this wasn't an allergy, I can relate to not being able to wear rings and swelling wrists.

Most of you know that while I was pregnant with Abby I had a terrible time with my blood pressure. Well, high blood pressure often leads to swelling in the feet, hands and wrists and anywhere else that Satan can think to have a person swell.

I remember vividly that my fingers and wrists became the size of golf and basketballs, respectively, and I had to stop wearing my rings. With my wedding rings, I simply put them on a chain and wore them around my neck, but a girl needs some bling occasionally, especially when she feels like a beached whale.

On occasion, I would put on the beautiful tanzanite ring my husband gave me on our wedding day and wear it out, and I was insistent that I wear my watch (the one I've had since high school). I mean, you can't teach class without a watch.

Unfortunately, my fingers and wrist didn't appreciate my effort to make the beautiful, and one day, after I barely got them off, I put them in a pocketbook.

Well, those of you who have had children know that your brain turns to mush somewhere around your second day of pregnancy, and after Abby was born, I couldn't remember where the ring and watch were.

Jason and I have been searching for over a year now for them but to no avail. I promise you, I have been through EVERY pocketbook in my closet and never found them.

Last night, I went into the bedroom and Jason asked me to close my eyes. He grabbed my hand, and I had a feeling about what he was doing. "Don't play with me," I said. But he wasn't playing.

It seems he had prayed and asked God to help him find the ring and watch because this week is a particularly hard week for me, and you know what? God came through. Jason found the ring in a Vera Bradley pocketbook. Not only did he find the ring, he found the watch also!

I'm amazed at God's faithfulness in even the little things like finding rings and watches.

What's your miracle story?

The Woman Teacher With The Man Voice

My nephews started school this week. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that McKenley is in HIGH SCHOOL! I mean, wasn't it just yesterday that I was watching him at daycare? And Austen, he's got such personality; it really is amazing.

Their dad was over today to take Jason to pick up Vader (for those of you who don't know, that is what we call his big, black truck that has been sick for several weeks). Vader has been healed and was ready to come back to his driveway.

Anyway.

Apparently, Kenny and Debbie had the boys ride the bus to and from school this week so that they would know what to do should they ever NEED to ride the bus to and from school. Times have changed, I tell you.

I was always one of those spoiled kids whose parents took them to school every day. My mom was the one waiting at 1:30 when school didn't get out until 2:30 so she could be at the front of the line to pick us up.

We had it easy.

Jason didn't have it so well. He rode the bus and befriended the scary girls so that they could kill anyone who did anything bad to him.

Today, they have a bus driver and another adult who is positioned at the back of the bus to make sure that kids don't get hurt (or pregnant, whatever). Why didn't they think of this years ago. I mean, really, can a bus driver really do her job well if she is trying to keep murders from occurring on the back row?

Apparently, the adult at the back of Austen and McKenley's bus was a "woman teacher with a man voice." Those are Austen's words. I can picture her now. Big, tall, square with a slight mustache, screaming at kids.

Oh my! The joys of back to school!

The Spaghetti is Gone

I HATE leftovers. I'm not really sure where or when my aversion to leftovers began, but I can tell you that today it is full-fledged. I've tried to change my leftover-hating ways, but you can't teach an old dog new tricks it seems.

I've realized, however, in the past few weeks that leftover-hater or not, I've got no choice but to eat them.

Most of the time, food that isn't eaten the first time around sits in our refrigerator until it resembles some sort of science experiment. I shudder to think how much money we could make if we just turned some of those Pyrex containers over for scientific study. We'd be millionaires, I'm sure. No doubt, there is a cure for cancer in our fridge.

We had spaghetti on Tuesday night because I was too tired to fix anything else, and I had thawed out chicken from the freezer, and I was dying to try my new grill pan.

The spaghetti was wonderful, of course, but I really, really, really didn't want to eat it again.

I asked my wonderful, creative, great cook friend Amanda what to do with leftover spaghetti other than throw it out, and she said, "spaghetti sandwiches," as if it were something that everyone made!

I'd never heard of such a thing. Spaghetti on bread with cheese? Foreign but wonderful sounding.

I did it. I made spaghetti sandwiches with some leftover bread and provolone cheese, a bit of butter and mayonnaise (my tribute to Paula Deen) and it was heavenly.

AND

All the spaghetti is gone. A miracle in and of itself considering my aversion to eating food more than once.

Life's Little Disappointments

Have I mentioned to you that Abby loves dogs?

The first time we recognized this burgeoning passion of hers was one day when I went to take dinner to a friend who had just had a baby. They have a beautiful golden retriever mix named Charlie, and when Abby met Charlie, it was true love. She jabbered at that dog and grabbed Charlie's hair and tried to give her a kiss. We taught her very early that a dog says, "Woof Woof" and she kept saying "Woof Woof" to Charlie. I think she was trying to communicate in some dog language that only she knows.

Later that week, we went to see my aging great aunt who has a little dachshund, and Abby did the same thing except we would let her grab that little dog because he isn't used to being around people.

She loves the canine species.

We decided that since she has the potential to be the next Dog Whisperer that it was time to get an inside dog. Our wonderful friends who have lots of dogs in their house recommended a Japanese Chin, and we were set.

We would get an adult from a breeder who was trying to place a dog. It was perfect.

Until.

My friend Katie got the dog to make sure it would be a match, and Sally (the Chin) barked incessantly.

"Sally's not the dog for you," Katie explained. "I'm going to kill her if she doesn't quit barking!"

That was that. I was disappointed. I expected to spend all day tomorrow with the new addition to our family, but all isn't lost!

We have hope. We may get another Chin from a different breeder, and if that doesn't work, something will.

As for now, we just keeping letting Abby watch the Sarah McLaughlin commercials about animal cruelty, and Abby keeps saying, "Woof, Woof".

The Back to School Blues?

And we're off!

Classes start tomorrow morning, and as I sit here in my office waiting for the the last of the two longest days of the year to end, I'm surrounded by paper and pens and half-drunk cups of coffee.

I think I'm ready.

I meant to go by my classrooms this afternoon and get a feel for the places I'll spend so much time in the next few weeks, but I didn't make it that far. You would think that with 9 hours on campus, I could find 20 minutes to scope out my classrooms, but you'd be wrong!

Every time I thought that I was finished copying, I'd remember something else. Let's hope that I don't remember something that must be copied at 2:45 this morning. At that point, it's too late because it has been scientifically proven that on the first day of class, no copiers work on campus, not one. Well, if you do happen to find a copier that works, it will jam and you will be left with burns on your hands and ink on your clothes.

My students will just have to wait if I've forgotten anything.

All that to say, Fall Semester, here we come!

Awesome Backgrounds

I know that in the past few days I've been rather spastic with my backgrounds, but I think that I have finally found one I love. I got it from this fantastic blog. You should go there and check it out.

I just had to give her credit for the beautiful background.

Mama and Elvis

As I'm sure all of you know, yesterday was the 31st anniversary of the king's "death". I know this simply because my mother has reminded me every August 16th that I can remember that "Today is the day Elvis died".

I also get a yearly reminder on January 8 that "today is Elvis' birthday".

What can I say? My mom loves the king.

This year was particularly poignant because my parents took a trip to Flat Rock, North Carolina to watch the Elvis show at the local community theatre.

"Maybe they'll do something special since it is the day Elvis died," she said when I reminded her of the significance of the date. "I didn't even think about what day it was when I bought the tickets," she said with contrition in her voice.

I can't even fully explain my mom's love for Elvis except that she was 25 when he died, and I can only guess that she was truly in love with the man.

When I was in middle school, we went to Memphis, Tennessee, and of course, we HAD to go to Graceland. I'll admit that it was a really neat place, and while we were there, my mom bought this bright pink, plastic cup with the word "ELVIS" across the side.

She still uses that cup. "I like the handle," my mom swears, but I think she still uses it because it says Elvis on the side.

You can't even tell what the word is, but we all know. Every year at Christmas, we swear we're going to get her a new cup, but I don't think she would use it.

To top it off, today we were at her house for lunch, and she had Elvis music playing in the background while she fixed lunch.

"Is that in tribute to the king," I asked.

"No!" she said emphatically, "It's just cooking music."

But we all know the truth.

Long live the king!

An Olympic Gymnast?

Apparently my daughter aspires to greatness. We realized this morning that she must have been born to be an Olympic gymnast.

She is small; she has a lot of energy, and she is unstoppable.

We've been watching the Olympics obsessively since they started, and I think that Abby finally realized her calling.

I'm hoping that Michael Phelps will have a child soon (who knows, those things happen) and Abby can marry him. It would be perfect.

I digress, however. This morning, Abby slept late (8:45); we were astounded, so at 10:00 it was naptime.

We are blessed because she still takes two rather longs naps a day, one in the morning and one at night.

Unfortunately, she did not think that 10:00 was an appropriate time for a nap today, and she cried and wailed when we put her in her crib.

Here's where the Olympic spirit comes in.

After 30 minutes or so of crying, we heard a loud "kathump" and then Abby crying.

She had undone the locks on her crib, and the side, which is hinged all the way across, had fallen down, and Abby had tumbled out.

She didn't stick the landing.

It didn't hurt her; although, I was ready to put her in the car and go immediately to the ER because you never know what happens internally when a child falls.

My brother-in-law got a frantic call from us asking whether or not she was okay. How he would know is beyond me since he was at his house 10 minutes away, but anyway. Kenny was insistent that she was okay because for some reason "God protects kids and drunks," he said.

All that to say, our future Olympian is now in her bed with the hinged side securely against the wall and her parents looking at expensive retirement homes.

Mommy Blogs

Yes, it is 3:45 in the morning, and yes, I am posting here.

Abby decided that she needed to cry at about 2:00 this morning. Why can't she cry at a reasonable hour, say, 9:00 a.m. or 1:00 p.m. I suppose children have their own timetables, and those of us who endeavor to be parents just have to work with it.

After a few minutes of crying, I succumbed to the pressure to go pick her up and comfort her. Unfortunately, I don't bring much comfort! Thus began our hour screamfest.

Something about a baby screaming in the middle of the night makes me extremely hungry, so when she finally quit crying and was just hiccuping and whimpering, I went in the kitchen and fixed a bowl of Cherrios and came to visit with you.

You'll notice that I posted a new list to the side of my blog called Mommy Blogs. No, these aren't just blogs for moms; they are blogs for everyone.

Each is written by a mom, and they are most of the time hysterical; although, they can be fun and entertaining too. I know there are only 3 listed right now, but as I find more, I'll add them.

Keep checking!

Just Holding and Being Held

Today was my first official day back at school. Please don't get me wrong. I LOVE my job. I can say that honestly with no reserve. I really do love getting up in the morning, teaching class, laughing with my students and colleagues, and I even love reading papers.

The only tough part is that the first day back is full of meetings. It doesn't help that NGU's SACs review is coming up. The chaos is indescribable.

Anyway, after a day full of meetings, I got the call from Jason.

"What was the call," you may be wondering. Well, you see, Jason's truck (the one we bought just a month ago) had started acting up, so he took it to a mechanic because we were fairly certain that the transmission was the problem. The mechanic called and confirmed that it was indeed the transmission.

That isn't the best part.

The best part is that apparently, this isn't a new problem. That's right, someone, presumably the person we bought the truck from, knew there were problems and got it fixed just enough to get it sold. We were the suckers who bought it.

I really do feel bad for Jason because who could have known. I asked my mom, "are we responsible when someone lies." The answer obviously is NO! Unfortunately, we do have to pay sometime when people lie.

After the call, I kind of lost it.

I've been having some health problems, thyroid, ulcer, blah, blah, blah. The long and short of it is that we're going to have a GI bill soon, not the army kind of GI but the doctor kind of GI.

I'm overwhelmed.

Satan is a sneaky snake because he doesn't let us think about just the one problem, but they all crash in at the same time.

On my way home, I was listening to my good OLD Joyful Sound cd, and one of the songs says, "So just remember, when you're standing in the valley of decision and the adversary says, "Give in," just hold on. My Lord will show up. And He will take you through the fire again."

After I heard it, I thought, "God, I can't hold on. I don't have the strength."

The next song said, "Great is He who's the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords; He is wonderful."

That I can hold onto. God's character doesn't change because my circumstances change. I can hold onto that, strength or not.

I know that my posts of late have been rather depressing, but that's were I am. Just holding on and believing. Just holding and being held.

Plan B?

Last week I was in the grocery store at the pharmacy, fighting with the folks behind the counter. Well, I wasn't really fighting as in fist punching, but I was trying to make a pharmacist, imagine that, understand the importance of filling prescriptions the way they are written.

Anyway.

I noticed as I stood there waiting a small box on the birth control shelf title "Plan B". I recognized this as the so called "morning after pill," but I didn't think a whole alot about it other than "How sad."

Well, just a minute ago, I was looking at MySpace and the banner at the top of the page was an advertisement for Plan B. It describes it as "emergency birth control," and the slogan for the pill is "Because the unexpected happens."

Incredible.

I find it difficult to believe that just because a child is unexpected means that we have the right to kill it. I mean, if I showed up at my parents house unexpectedly, I certainly hope that they wouldn't kill me. Although, my dad did draw a gun on my sister when she showed up at 3:00 in the morning without notice, but I digress. That is simply a hazard of living in the deep south.

Seriously though, the other disturbing aspect of this is the fact that getting the pill doesn't even require a prescription. According to the banner, if you are 18, you can buy the pill over the counter. No accountability, no guidance, just a pharmacist handing it to you through the window. As if it were Zyrtec or Benadryl.

I pray that my grandchildren aren't unexpected. I'm certainly glad that such things weren't around when Jason was conceived because he was unexpected. Pray for our nation and for girls and adults who view babies as nothing more than an inconvenience that can be taken care of with a pill and a glass of water.

Never Goodbye

Don Finley, a.k.a, Shorty Finley, is dying with cancer. I'm not sure how he got the nickname Shorty because he isn't short at all. As a matter of fact, he's a rather tall man.

Jason's dad has been dead for almost 20 years. Sometimes it's hard to believe that he died of esophageal cancer when Jason was just 13 and that I'll never know him. Shorty did know him though, and every time we come around, Short says, with a tear in his eye, "Bill was one of the best men I've ever known."

They were in the church choir together. Bill had one heck of a voice. I guess that's part of the reason Jason and his sister can sing so beautifully. Not only could Bill sing, but he also played the upright bass. He was good from what I understand. Really good. Bluegrass they say.

When Bill died, he left a hole. A big gaping hole in his family and in Shorty.

Last week, Jason and I took Abby to see him. He still has his sense of humor, and he smiled when we walked in and said to Jason, "Your daddy was one of the best men I've ever known."

It's hard to believe that if God doesn't intervene, Shorty probably won't make it to Christmas. He looked at Abby and at Jason and smiled. Abby gave him kisses.

Jason cried when we left because Shorty asked him to sing Beulah Land at his funeral. "Just like your daddy used to," he requested.

God is so good to us, though. Even in the midst of cancer and death, he is so wonderful. How gracious to allow us to go from one life to the next. How kind to provide a way to eternal life at his own expense. He paid our fare.

I love to think about what Shorty and Bill's reunion will be like. I picture it something like this:

"Shorty! I'm so glad you made it. Choir practice is in an hour. You'll have just enough time to chat with Jesus and catch up with some friends before we get together."

"I've missed you, Bill. You should see your granddaughter. She's a beauty, and your grandsons are doing well too. Your family misses you, but they're doing fine."

"I know, Shorty. I've been watching, and you'll watch your family too. God's real kind like that."

"It's so good to finally be home."

Please, please, please read this blog

Oh my!

I have just found one of the funniest blogs -- ever!

Meredith had a link on her blog, and after reading it for a few days, I MUST recommend it to you.

It is Big Mama's Blog.

P.S. I've not abandoned the world of blogging. It just seems that I have too many ideas running around in my head to be able to adequately put them into words. I'm working on it. Please be patient.

I will return shortly!

Too Tired

What I wish my home could look like (not necessarily the decorating but the neatness).

One of the things that I hate about coming home from vacation is how overwhelmed it often makes me feel. Poor Jason has had to endure the brunt of most of my exhaustion. We got home Sunday afternoon after an absolutely wonderful time, and although most of the clothes were already washed, I still found myself with piles of laundry in the hallway floor.

To top it off, I'm not watching Charles Stanley anymore because he makes brings too much conviction. I'm just kidding sort of. There I was, sitting in my hotel room Sunday morning, minding my own business when Charles Stanley started talking about bringing up children. He said that one of the things we must teach our children is to live an orderly life. Yes, I agree wholeheartedly. Then he started meddling. He said that our houses need to be orderly and that his mother always kept things in their places.

Now, my home isn't a disaster area by any stretch of the imagination, but I am NOT a great housekeeper when it comes to keeping things Southern Home perfect. There is the occasional toy/toys strewn across the floor and most days you can't even find the coffee table. Things are clean, but orderly? I've got to get God to help me with that.

Anyway, please say a prayer for Jason if you think about it (and maybe my short temper). I'm working doing courier work again this week to make some extra money. It seems that the transmission on Jason's car is gone.

God, please help us find the money we need that isn't there.

I know many of you can relate.

Our 2008 Vacation

Our vacation is almost over, but it has been a fantastic adventure. Right now we're struggling to get a 1 year old asleep in a hotel room. She's not responding well.

Overall, our week has been fantastic. As I said earlier in the week, Abby LOVED the water. Fortunately, she has her father's skin, and she doesn't burn like I do. Most days, Abby and I went to the beach for an hour or so and then we went back to the house for a nap. We both napped. Actually, I got a book read that I've had all summer. More about that book later.



I have to take a minute and brag on my little sister because she passed her oral exams for her PhD program on Wednesday. Yay, Heidi, and she and my parents came down on Thursday. That is why we are now in a hotel room on Saturday. We're staying with them until tomorrow.

I got some shopping in at the outlet malls and we ate some wonderful seafood, my favorite part of any beach trip.

They only unexpected part of our trip was my visit from EMS. On Tuesday night, I woke up about 1:00 a.m. with terrible pain in my chest. Luckily, my brother-in-law is an EMT, and he checked me out. He determined that the best course of action would be to call an ambulance because pain in the chest is nothing to monkey around with. After the ladies in the ambulance arrived, the pain subsided. Since I've been battling an ulcer for several weeks, we figured out that it was probably acid reflux. I didn't go to the hospital (that would have meant less money at the outlet malls), but I have been taking Prilosec and now I'll go to a gastrointerologist when we get back home.

Back to our trip. I've posted some pictures for your viewing enjoyment.


Abby with her cousin Kenley. They are making tiger faces.


Abby riding the merry-go-round at Broadway at the Beach.


Such a big girl.


With Grandpa, Mama and Aunt Heidi on the beach.


With Aunt Debbie and Uncle Kenny.