A REAL Vacation, Part 2

We left Conroe for home, tired and relieved that we had emerged unscathed by the sales pitch and the lure of world travel on the cheap.  Our minds were full of the wonders of a real family vacation.  What would it be like?  Would we have fun?  Beyond our wildest dreams?  Hmmmm.

The documents came with detailed instructions for booking said vacation.  Warning:  this exercise is not for the faint of heart (meaning anyone not well-organized).  The first task was to send an email to the site listed and fill in our names and vital information.  I did that.  Easy.  Then I was told to await another email which would contain the next instructions.  Um, okay.  That's kinda weird, but I'm game.

Several weeks later the long-awaited email arrived.  Choose your destination.  We, of course, selected the much touted Great Wolf Lodge, filled out the other survey questions and hit, send.  A box appeared, "Thank you.  Your vacation specialist will contact you soon.  Be ready with travel dates that will be selected at the next communication."

Whoa!  I have to pick travel dates nine months in advance?  That's asking a lot.  I don't know what we're doing next weekend much less nine months from now.  I panicked for a moment.  Well, no use worrying until the email actually arrived, so I went about my business.

Months go by.  No email.  The kids want to know when we are going on this grand illustrious stupendous vacation.  It seems the communiques are lost in the void, I begin to worry a little.

Then one day, boom, there it is in my inbox.  A message.  Choose your stay, one or two nights, pay up the taxes and fees (remember the part where I said "Nothing is EVER free?").  Done.  Choose your dates.  Now things are getting tricky.

We joined speech and debate this year.  All of the competitions are in the Spring and I have NO IDEA WHAT THE DATES ARE!  I was given three options and THEY got to choose which of the three dates we would go.  Nothing like surrendering your life to the monsters living in the void who dictate when your free vacation can be booked.  Oh well, here goes nothing.  I chose.  One in March, one in April, one in May.  Please let this work out.  Please!

You know, sometimes things just fall into place, and other times they don't.  God was watching over this vacation in many ways.  I see that now that I'm on the other end of it.

May.  We got May.  We couldn't have gone ANY of the other dates I chose.  Speech tournaments.  Wow.  Awesome.  Problem?  It's January.  Can my kids stand the wait?

I was hounded daily as to when the auspicious date would finally arrive.  We got through speech and debate season, went to regionals (woo hoo!), and finally landed back home ready for some relaxation and fun.  There it was, looming ahead.  Two weeks.  I had two weeks to get ready.  Ugh oh.  I have done no research on what else there is to do there.  I have not booked additional hotel stays elsewhere.  Crunch time.

The infamous day of departure finally arrives.  My daughter is taking an online class, so we pack up the Expedition with five suitcases plus laptop and hotspot and head out for Dallas.  It sure is quiet in the car when the kids have to be so that sis can listen to her class.  Insert smile.

The trip went smoothly.  The truth is, I still haven't had much time to research Great Wolf Lodge until this very moment, in the car, with nothing else to do.  What has all the fuss been about, anyway?  I was about to find out.

Tune in for part 3, coming soon!

A REAL Vacation! Part 1

Yep, the title says it all.  Our first REAL vacation.  Meaning, it was planned way in advance and we looked forward to it for a long time, planning and building the excitement so it peaked at just the right moment.

Funny how it all began.  We are not great planners.  We are even worse vacationers (is that a word?).  Every time we would go home to Oklahoma to visit relatives, my sweet husband would start in about our upcoming "vacation."  I would try to nicely explain to him that visiting relatives is visiting relatives.  It is not a vacation.  He adamantly disagrees, even to this very day.

So anyway, last year we went to the Houston home show.  We had a nice time and got lots of ideas for how to spend money we don't have.  Then we passed a booth that advertised a free vacation at Great Wolf Lodge.  Well, my son's friend had just been to this amazing unknown mecca of childhood fantasy and my son started jumping up and down that we had to try to win it.  My husband shrugged his shoulders and I nodded, "Sure.  Why not?  Free sounds good."

Nothing is ever free.  EVER.

So, we spun the wheel and filled out the form and, "Surprise! You've won two nights at..." then the slick salesman in sheep's clothing rattled off some place I've never heard of and we all did a double take.  "No, we want to go to Great Wolf Lodge?  I thought you said we could win that?"  After a short clarification that dear sweet man changed our prize to the much-desired kid-prized destination of, you guessed it, Great Wolf Lodge.  Cue boy jumping up and down and squealing with delight.

Cut to...

Now I knew this would involve a timeshare.  It always involves a timeshare.  But I figured I could sit through two hours of hard-core sales to make the boy's dreams come true.  After all, I know all the tricks of the trade from my own sales and marketing career and if I do say so myself, I was tops (thank you Zig Ziglar).

They've added a few little tweaks to this timeshare nonsense though.  Before you go, you have to pay a fee.  Well, it wasn't much and in light of the expense of the lodging we would get for free I said okay.  So, we scheduled our timeshare visit and let the kids start building castles in the air.

On location...

We drove to Conroe, TX on the day of doom.  It was a gorgeous day.  Seventy lovely degrees and just beautiful.  As we drove into the timeshare property, I sensed trouble.  The property was beautiful.  Gorgeous, actually.  My resolve was set and I was ready for the onset of sales tactics from any Zig Ziglar compendium, but as I looked over at my husband, I realized we were in for trouble.  He had this big grin on his face, the one that says, "I could live like this, yes, I could."  I wanted to scream, I thought, "No you can't and don't even let the idea enter your gullible little head."  I just smiled.

We were greeted by the nicest folks in the world.  I mean, really, every need or desire was instantly met complete with popcorn, Dr. Pepper, candy, and more.  The kids were loving this.  We sat and waited for the salesperson to walk through the door.  I watched as each family was whisked off to financial ruin by a smiling, commission-earning person of exceeding politeness.  I blew out an exhalation, I had been holding my breath.  Then he approached, eager and confident, reaching his hand out to me like he was my long lost buddy from early elementary school.

We got the grand tour.  All the bells and whistles.  Yay.  Okay, it was lovely.  Hardly the point.  I am here to make my son's dreams come true, no more, no less, and purchasing a timeshare is not in the cards, got it?  I just smiled as we walked into the room where numerous families were seated at tables in deep deliberation over monthly payments and maintenance fees.

This guy was good.  I know good and this guy knew all the tricks.  He was using the standard "you can't afford not to" tactic and the "emotional appeal" tactic very well.  He had actually intertwined them and my husband was a goner. 

You see, he had asked the question earlier of me (not my husband, mind you, me!), "Where is your dream vacation spot?"  Well, knowing I could resist this guy to the very end I played along, "Italy, and Greece, " I innocently replied.  Then I looked over at the Giant.  Oops, apparently I had just made a fatal error.  He looked like I had just smacked him.

Quick aside...the Giant has been EVERYWHERE.  His work has given him world travel to all places of wondrous delight.  His guilt was showing thanks to my honesty.

Anyway...Mr. I Can Sell You Anything latched on to my dream vacay and would not let up for one second.  "Wouldn't you love to take your beautiful wife to Italy and make her dreams come true?"  Jerk.  That was really low.  Okay, I don't mean he's really a bad person...he's just hitting below the belt here and that ticked me off.

After I wiped away a few stray tears because of my poor husband's inability to get the guy to lay off I pulled out my own big guns, I said, "No."  The guy stared at me blankly for a full second.  Then he launched into a counter attack (that's where they lower the monthly rate and reduce amenities to make it more affordable) and I said, "No."  He didn't seem to understand.  He had made me cry because I wanted to go to Italy and Greece so bad so this should be easy as pie, right?  "No."

They reduced the price until my husband was ready to pull out his wallet and start signing documents just to get the heck out of there.  They know this routine well, but they underestimated me.

Have you ever seen a salesman able to overcome the wife who says "No"?  No, you haven't.  It befuddles them.  "I thought you wanted to go to..."  "No."  "We can't spend the money on that right now.  No."  Their jaw drops, they fiddle with papers, they look around the room for their boss to rescue them.  The boss comes over and before he gets two words out I say, "No."  "No."

Remember the two hour sales pitch I planned to attend?  Can you say three and a half hours?  Yes, they kept us there for that long.  They just want you to give them money so they will let you leave.  "No."

This next part gets interesting.  Up til now they have been our best friends and our every need was catered to at every moment.  When my last and final "No" reverberated off the walls of the room, suddenly the mood changed.  Be advised, I was not leaving without said free vacation to Great Wolf Lodge, not after the toil and sweat of that nightmare.  So I kindly asked where we should go to finish up and receive our documents.  Well, the young man who had spent so much time with us practically ran out of the room...ran, he ran.  His boss pointed to an exit door and said something to the effect of, "Go that way."  Then he disappeared as well.  We gathered up our exhausted and confused children (so we're not buying the timeshare?) and followed our noses.  When we reached the building where those unseemly people who said "No" to the illustrious timeshare resort splendor go, we entered to find a woman behind a desk.  She did not greet us.  I said "hello" and what do we do next.  She curtly replied that someone would call us soon.

After about ten grueling minutes we were called back by a woman who looked very sorry to be in possession of her job.  We squeezed into a tiny room and were subjugated to explanations of why our free vacation was not free and how much it would cost.  If I hadn't been so worn out I think I would have just exploded.  Instead I smiled and nodded, it wasn't going to cost that much and in the long run it was way cheaper than paying the regular room rate.  "Just get the certificate." That's all I kept thinking.  I finally had it.  She handed the blessed item over the desk and into my hands.  There it was, two nights at Great Wolf Lodge for me and my family.  For about a hundred and some odd dollars mind you, but it was ours, nonetheless.

It was a victory.  We walked out of that room and out of the building towards our car.  I was grinning from ear to ear.  I couldn't help it.  I had done it.  I had kept my husband's wallet in his pocket and obtained the treasure of all treasures, the key to our first REAL family vacation.  I couldn't wait to start planning and to see what else we could do in the area.  It was like winning the Super Bowl.  Ring, please?

Part 2 will document the months and phone calls and emails it took to actually BOOK the vacation.  Anyone thinking of repeating our experience should be warned, I do NOT recommend it.  These people are really aliens and they have mind altering popcorn.  You have been duly warned.

The Way to Live

Recently my husband's father passed and we traveled to Oklahoma for the funeral.  My husband had already been there a week and watched his father decline and finally, go to meet his Maker.  I stayed at home with the kids running them to lessons and trying to keep the routine going.  We prayed for him and worried from afar.

Once he was gone we quickly threw together our suitcases and got on the road.  I was already tired and worried and a ten hour drive did not appeal to me in the least.  But God blessed us through the prayers of many and the help of movies and audio tapes on the road which made the trip go faster.

Upon arrival we went to the farm and visited with family.  Spirits were good and it was clear there was rejoicing at a life well lived.  I was asked to lead the rosary at the wake.  I nervously accepted, knowing this would be my first time to stand up in the church to lead anything.  I prayed for strength and wisdom and grace.  As I mounted the steps to the ambo, my heart boomed in my chest.  I'd been feeling over-tired for a while and kneeling to the Host was excruciating and I wondered if I could get up on my own (arthritis).

I turned to face the crowd and was stunned for a moment.  I didn't know what to expect but the church was almost full.  In every row sat friends, family, neighbors and folks who had come to pray for Ray.  I nervously began.  My mother-in-law told me to speak up from the front row.  As I continued the prayers a peace fell upon me and while my knees shook occasionally, my heart settled into the rhythm of the familiar words.

After the rosary I once again knelt before returning to my seat, hearing the cracking in my joints as I pulled myself up.  Then folks began to come up to talk about Ray's life.  The words still ring in my ears, how Ray spent his life focusing on people, not things; not money.  When the harvest was due Ray would stop the machines to go to Mass because he knew what was important in the long run.

Much was said and while I can't remember the exact words, the meaning is stamped on my heart.

The next day at the funeral the priest was speaking and he looked upon the ocean of people filling the church and said that this was the largest funeral he'd seen at the parish since his coming there.  It was standing room only.  And I'll bet Ray knew the names of everyone in that building, first and last.  They all knew him.

Later I began to think about his life and his death and I realized that he was truly a rare person, and I am blessed to be linked to his family.  He did his best to set the example of how to live a life and his children have tried to do the same.  But the world is changing and it tries to steal our children from us.  Sometimes we do not see how the evil sneaks in and lives among us, filtering out our words of faith and replacing them with words the world says are more practical and make more sense.

Even with a man like Ray standing in the gap for his family, the world is snatching at our children and convincing them that Ray's world is gone and that no-one can live like that anymore.

I watched at the funeral as several of his grandchildren abstained from the Eucharist.  The world they live in has told them that it's all nonsense; that there's more to life than accepting the words of a dusty old book and a boring weekly routine of rules and penalties.  I wanted to cry.  And I turned and looked at my own children and wondered what they would believe when they come of age.

The funeral was over and another day spent enjoying family, then we took to the highway once again.  All the while we drove I was thinking about those beloved sitting in the pew watching as the rest of us consumed the Host.

Once home I realized this trip had cost us so much and as it was our fifth funeral in a year I decided we needed to cut back some expenses.  I had been thinking of cutting these anyway but finally withdrawing the children from some of their lessons was hard; for me and for them.  But I knew it was the thing we had to do for now.  My mind also began to wonder if the doing of all these things was the thing allowing their minds to wander from the things of Heaven.

If you examine the lives of the saints, one thread seems common in all their stories.  That is that they decide that the world and everything in it is a distraction from the things that are important.  We say that we want our children to have every opportunity to do and achieve so we pay for ballet lessons and piano and so on.  Yet what in ballet lessons and piano lessons leads them to Heaven?  If I am honest, ballet has a number of things associated with it that I would never want my children exposed to.  Granted, it is when they are older that these things become an issue; but if they fall in love with the art and want to continue when they are older, I will be to blame if I try to withdraw them from it at that point.  How can I say it is okay for a while, then suddenly say it will lead to possible evils?

I think the thing with all arts is that they turn our focus from God to ourselves.  And not just the arts but also sports and skills of any kind.  Most saints had great skills, but they were the skills of Heaven: prayer, chastity, poverty, selflessness of all kinds.  Our world makes us into demigods if we succeed well in the world and it sets us up as idols for others to worship.  All one need do is look at Hollywood to see this, or Wall Street, or Washington D.C.

Saint Therese had her "little way" of living which led to Heaven.  Her way is despised in our country.  As I lie in bed feeling as though I am getting pneumonia once again (which I almost succumbed to several years ago), I feel afraid that I have not taught my children enough about the right way to live.  Do they understand that money, power, and fame mean nothing?  Do they understand that hard work, prayer, and service are the keys to Heaven?

As we find ourselves with more time on our hands I know that my daily goals must be to teach them this.  I know the questions will start about when we can return to this or that lesson or class and I hope I am prepared with the best answers.

Mostly I hope I will never have to stand to take Eucharist and watch as they sit idly by, wondering why I do such a thing. 

Pinewood Derby

Well, it was year two and we had so much fun last year we decided to pull out all the stops this year.  Quick review: last year we built the car in a week.  Well, we tried to and then ended up staying up till all hours when we realized we had done it wrong.  Mr. Happiness was involved in all of it and the car was an excellent first attempt.  It came in right in the middle of the pack.  We observed the other cars and decided the next year we would give ourselves more time.

So this year we started six weeks out.  We got our cars and one of the pack parents brought a band saw to meetings so we could cut.  This was very kind and generous of him so we were the first ones to cut because we were ready with our designs (which the kids all picked and helped with drawing on their cars.).  Now, obviously, an 8 year old cannot use a band saw.  Last year he used the coping saw.  This year he picked out a difficult design so we opted for the band saw to make it easier.

Once our cars were cut, we took them home and the kids sanded, I sanded, Dad sanded.  We all sanded.  They needed LOTS of sanding.  I explained that to get a nice paint finish they needed to be smooth as glass.  Lesson number one:  Use varying grades of sand paper on wood to achieve a paintable surface.

Then the cars were ready for weights.  We learned from our new Pinewood Derby book that tungsten weights are highly recommended and I remembered from last year that this part was hard.  So, having plenty of time with book in hand, we followed the directions for adding the weights.  Mr. Happiness drew the drill sights onto the car.  We used the drill press to drill the holes.  He learned how to help use it - he was not allowed to operate it alone.

We slipped the weights in and used putty to cover them.  More sanding.

Finally, (because we had to order more weights b/c the stores were out), the cars were ready for primer.  They were set aside while we prepared axles and wheels.  Again, tools were used in this process and the kids learned about safety and use with a drill press, sander, wet/dry sand paper blocks, etc.

They also learned that patience is required for this kind of work, and the results will not appear overnight.

Once the axles and wheels were ready they were set aside and we spray painted the cars.  This worked fine for the girls cars, but my boy's car got the last painting and the weather turned sour on us.  It rained, was foggy, and rained some more.  His paint kept peeling up and we had to re-sand to the base 4 times.  He was pretty frustrated as was I.  Finally, we got it to an acceptable condition by using a different kind of paint.  It still was not what we'd hoped for.

But we accept all as part of the process and move along.  My boy and I get his wheels on at the last minute and are ready to go.  We are all excited and proud of our work.

When we arrived at the derby we ran the cars down the track and they looked good, Big Girl's especially ran well.  We weighed, checked in, and waited for the races to start.  We visited with friends, laughed, chatted.  It was fun just to be there.  As the cars came in each had a special story behind it.

Finally the races began.  Our cars did well.  Better than most.  My boy's car won his first race.  Sweet.  Then they re-ran the race and he got second.  Then second again, and again.  He was clearly bummed.  I felt for him.  When you've spent six weeks on your car you have high hopes.  We promised to praise God if we won or lost, but for an 8 year old this is a challenge.  I was proud though - he pulled himself together in the shadow of Big Girl's clean sweep.

Comments were made about how some parents gave their child the box and said, "Go make your car."  When I heard this I thought to myself that that is unfair.  This is not an easy thing to build if you are 6, 7, 8 years old.  Several cars fell apart on the track and others didn't finish the race.

There is a fine line between "helping" the child and doing the work yourself.  The child must do as much as they can.  And in our house, we use every moment as a teachable moment.  My kids learned about power tools, the sanding process, and about potential energy and force and drag.  They can tell you why some cars won and others didn't.  They can tell you why some cars sped up on the flat part of the track while others slowed down.  Friction is a word we discussed.

This event is fun.  Even when parents make comments about how you must have just built all these cars yourself without letting the kids do much - it's fun because we just smile and know better.  This event offers much in the way of learning in science and physics.  Those things will not happen if you toss the box to your child and say, "Go put this together."  My heart went out to every child whose car broke on the track or couldn't get past the finish line.  Parents, I get that this is for the kids and that the focus is not all about winning, but is called a "race" for a reason.

"Set time aside to do it right, or don't do it at all." - My Mother.

What's that Scout motto again?  Oh yeah, "BE PREPARED!"

The Nutcracker

So Kitten and Mr. Happiness were in the Nutcracker this past December.  Can you say amazing amounts of time spent volunteering (making and fixing costumes), going to rehearsals, and stressing over it all?  However, in the end it was wonderful!  God is so good.  Backstage I met a wonderful lady who I hope will mentor me in my faith.  She is an amazing Catholic lady and I know God brought her to me in that moment.  He is so good to us.

Here are some pics of my lovelies:

Kitten on left.  She WANTED to be the boy.

How handsome is he?

 It was a busy season, but worth it all!

American Heritage Girls

We joined a local AHG troop this past Fall and can I say what a great organization!  The girls now have badges to earn like their Cub Scout brother, and they really seem to enjoy it.

One of our first activities was to participate in a fundraiser for Wreaths Across America.  I took my eldest out for two days and she asked everyone in our neighborhood to buy a wreath.  I think only 3 people actually said "no."  She ended up winning top sales for the whole troop!  Way to go kiddo!

She was very happy to receive her prize - an AHG headband to match her uniform.

Ahhh...2012.

So, after a very difficult December I am relishing in the life that is January.

School is going well after a refresh on the course schedules and a resolution to keep up no matter what!  I'm seeing good progress which is always a plus.

We are embarking on an adventure this Friday as my eldest goes for an Autism screening.  I am amazingly calm and peaceful about this.  I know answers are the biggest blessing I can receive at this point and I'm confident that I will get some answers, if not many.

I am contemplating the schedule and thinking of downsizing again.  We love being home.  This is a new feeling.  Our house is great.  Our yard is great.  Home is great and everyone enjoys spending time here.  Anything that takes us out is worth questioning.

Yet I also love hearing the music (when they actually practice).  Our Christmas concert here at home was lovely and I think we'll make it an annual event.  Here's a few shots:

It's hard to see in that last picture, but Mr. Happiness is playing the cello.  What fun we had baking yummy treats all day and playing for our friends and teachers!

I actually had that room painted so it looked nice and pretty.  The living room is next...

It's nice to be blogging again and to the few folks who actually read my blog, thanks for your patience.

A "Boo Radley" Moment...

If you love the movie "Benny and June"  you'll get what I'm talking about.  If not, hang on, I'll explain.

So I've been promising the kids a puppy.  We've been in the new house for a few months and things are sort of settling (in a sort of unsettled way) into a routine.  So I start calling around trying to find Basset Hounds.  Yes, we were inspired by Ree Drummond's blog and we bought the book about him while in Oklahoma.  Turns out a Google search on Bassets comes up as a furniture store more often than a kennel.  But I digress.  I finally found a kennel in Houston that sounded legit and responsible.

Off we went to the Heights in search of our puppy.  She had two litters but we only had eyes for one...

That face was irresistable.

So home we came, the pup howling all the way until finally I put him on my shoulder as I drove home.  He settled down and was quiet.  Oops.  I was hoping he would bond with one of the kids!

It seemed clear I was his soul mate - in Mama terms anyhow.

Naming the dog was fairly simple.  I told the kids I couldn't believe I was doing this and it was a "Boo Radley" kind of moment in our lives.  The albino and misunderstood Boo Radley is a character in "To Kill a Mockingbird" who ends up a hero for saving the lives of Atticus Finch's kids one night as they walk home from a school production.  A great read, by the way.  In the movie "Benny and June," June, who is eccentric and reclusive after a car accident kills her parents, calls any awkward or unplanned moment a "Boo Radley moment." Hence, our name for the dog could only be Boo Radley.  The long version for the AKC papers reads, "Mama had a Boo Radley Moment."

So Boo is now part and parcel of our family and is peeing and pooping everywhere when he is not sleeping or eating or playing.  Those pet pee pads - they don't work if you want to know but they make great chew toys.

Ah Boo, we love you!

How Dry Am I?

So we moved into a house that sits on a lovely 1.2 acres.  Well, it was lovely.  Before the grass died.  Before the trees started wilting and the elephant ears turned brown and flopped over.

It all looks so dry and thirsty.  The little water we give them doesn't help much.  I think about all of my great plans to dig up and replant and create lushness.  Hmmmmmm.  Lushness, the very word is an oxymoron.

Did we ever have lush lawns and problems with flooding in Houston?  It's hard to remember those days.

I used to laughingly say we lived in a swamp.  Houston is, after all, pretty much a giant swamp filled with bayous, marshes, and Spanish-moss laden trees whose roots bathe in the moldy, marshy mud.

Lovely vision, isn't it?  Funny though, I've come to love that greenest of greens and lushest of foliage covered plants, be they succulents or deciduous.

In Oklahoma the brown of the prairie is a staple in life and in Summer, it sucks the green from everything.  By September one is longing for Autumn.

When is it going to rain?  Please Lord, let it rain.  I don't want Texas to turn into the prairie.  (Okay, I know some of Texas, well a lot of Texas is prairie but not the part where I live, mostly,)

I'm channeling swamp right now - could really dig it.  Swamp would be good.  Even with the snakes and alligators that come with it - okay well, not in my backyard, but in the wild swampiness where they live.

Just a wee, little bit of rain to dampen my flowerless flower beds and my formerly grass covered yard would be so nice.  A nice cool shower to sizzle against the hot metal of the gutters and metal flashing that longs for relief.  Oh, to sing in the rain!

Heck, I would sing in a hurricane.

Well, a mild one anyway.

I can't stand driving around in this heat!  I just want to hibernate inside and avoid the heavy blanket of yuck that awaits us out there.  Tomorrow is our out day - lessons and more lessons.  Hot SUV (black interior - ugh).

Here's an aside; we have begun letting the cats have the roam of the house at night.  We used to keep them in the utility room to sleep, but I feel they've graduated from old house to new and have earned some privileges.  It'll take some time, however, for me to get used to hearing things falling in the night.  Frantically, I leapt out of bed the other night thinking one of the kids had fallen down the stairs or something.  Oh no, just cat antics.  Whew.

So back to the drought.  Or not.

Next post will be fun, and floppy, and cute.  Needs pics though and I, along with many others in same house, am pooped.

Night.

The Place for Angels...is Heaven.

This year has been a tough one.  It actually started last year with my Uncle's death, then this year my Grandma died (March).  My husband has lost family members, most recently his Uncle Joe.  While attending Joe's funeral I got a text from my lifelong friend since 7th grade - her daughter had passed away at the age of 21.

Elle was a charmer.  Always smiling and pleasant.  Laughter was a trademark and her smile would light up any room.  I didn't know her well yet I knew that she fought mighty battles with ne'r a complaint.  She was born with a disease I can barely describe and spent her life on strong medications which tried to control her raging immune system.  Sometimes she won the fight, sometimes she would fight for weeks in hospital.

I mostly had to listen from a distance while her mom relayed the information and made numerous trips from Colorado to Arkansas.  It's a long drive and not an easy one.

We can learn so much from her, though.  I certainly can.  Her simple joy in living every day.  Her smile despite many reasons to frown. 

I think about this as I contemplate the past year and all of my frustrations with loss, moving, and failures.  What would Elle do?  She would probably put on her ipod and sing some great classic rock-n-roll tunes.  The kind you and I grew up with.  She'd login to facebook and chat with friends, upload a few pics, and then hang out with her sister before calling it a night.

Time was not her friend and yet she never fought it.  I do.  I fight time.  All the time!  So I'm going to take a page from Elle's life and make it a reminder to me that time is not the enemy.  Thank you Elle for the example.

Elle was small, petite, blonde, and beautiful.  An angel in anyone's book.  She was our angel and as everyone knows, angels must return from whence they came.  So Heaven welcomes her home, and we will miss her.  God bless you Elle, our love and prayers are lifting you higher.  Lord, receive her into your loving arms.

Elaine Elizabeth Hamilton

June 1990 - August 2011

Update...

Well, we moved.  Whew.  That's done.  Unpacking will take, well, forever, but we're here and that's what matters.

I've bit the bullet and bought bookcases for the school room.  Wah - hoooooooo!  What a blessing.  Then I bought a new school table too.  It's a gorgeous 8 foot harvest table.  Can you say sturdy?  It's just yummy!

The rest will come slowly and more likely once this heat and drought dissipates.  Although I did trim the hedges, aren't you proud of me?  So needed it.

My darling son had his appendix out.  Came out of nowhere in the middle of the night.  Two hospitals and countless doctors later a surgery was done and my brave little soldier was recovering.  Mom was sleep deprived for more than 48 hours and was pretty cranky at one point but thank heaven a bed was procured and some sleep acquired.  That is an awful feeling - needing to sleep but knowing you can't?  The prayers and support were so great from friends and family.  It got us through.

Let's see, my mother went to ER for an allergy attack, I missed Mr. Happiness's cello lesson because my watch stopped, we celebrated the Giant's birthday, fixed the lawn mower, watched as our co-op fell apart and dissolved, unpacked the scrapbook room, and realized one of my yahoo groups was moderating me and posting my messages two months late or just deleting them.

But I am happy.  I will trust in the Lord in all of this and wait for His plan to reveal itself.  This may be the plan, actually, I'm pretty sure it is.  Can I rejoice when things go haywire and love life all the same?  Yep, I can and I will because no body and no thing have the right to cause otherwise unless I let them.  First person pep talk, giddy-up and go on being happy.

Life certainly feels different here.  It's slower, everything's further.  Gasoline is expensive so stay home!  But we love it.  The days seem longer and the neighbors more friendly.

I am basking in the glow of the "big house" and making plans to turn it into a charmer as time goes by.  I am looking forward to regularity; school days, laundry, cooking, etc.  Here's to that.

Moving!

Okay, we close tomorrow and move on Saturday!

Remember the song?  "Hey! S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y!"  Okay, just the beginning, the rest is silly.  I'm chanting the spelling and whoo-hooing til everyone thinks I'm a hillbilly.

With my back out, I'll be giving orders rather than lifting and hauling myself - pray for those dear moving boys - I'll be gentle, really I will.

But soon we will be lying in the midst of chaos admiring the floor to ceiling boxes and months of work ahead of us.  Praise be to God.  This day has come.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

Here's to redecorating on the cheap and making our new house a home.

God bless you all!

Seeing Through the Pain

Last night my back went out again.  Well, my shoulder which is attached to my back, which sends pain coursing through my body at lightning speed.

The first time this happened it was 1990 and I had been in a car accident three days prior.  I woke up out of a deep sleep screaming.  It was surreal and very, very REAL.  It has been determined that the scar tissue from the whiplash compresses the nerves and occasionally, about every 5-8 years, when stress is high and heavy lifting necessary, the result is this debilitating pain that every move aggravates.

Since we were starting to move some things over to the new house, fate picked last night and this morning to revive this old wound.

I've iced it, and done the deep heating rub, taken a scalding hot bath and am now left with numbness in my hands and the hurt hopefully relegated to one small area.  I feel exhausted and completely fatigued.  Yet, in there somewhere is also a peace.

I think of Elle lying in her bed with all those tubes in her and the ventilator helping her to breathe.

Okay, back up, I've been in Arkansas and haven't blogged about Elle.

Elle is the 21 year old daughter of my best friend from junior high and high school.  All of her life she has suffered from an immunity disorder (not HIV) that has meant a lifetime of medication, doctors, hospitals and a not-very-normal life.

Elle is beautiful and full of life.  Funny, witty, charming.  So last week when she suffered a  heart attack from a pulmonary embolism we all did a double take and our world stopped.  I flew to Arkansas to be there with her mother and watched as they took her into open heart surgery, helpless except for my prayers.

Then we waited for her to wake up.  We waited, and waited.

She did not wake while I was there.  I had to return home to my own family and just pray that she would come through this.

This morning she opened her eyes and moved some.  Five days, if I've counted right.  She didn't wake up for five days.

My pain is so irrelevant.  Elle is with us and prayers work.

I came home to see my children a little differently.  Time is the important thing.  There is schoolwork to do and chores and all of that.  But time holding them and snuggling and giggling and talking is better.

It's all we wanted for Elle to be able to do again.  To smile.  To laugh.  To know we love her and to feel the joy of her.

My pain is still there and boy, it really hurts.  But as long as I can see clearly I'm good.

We'll get to all those things at some point.  In the midst of pain; we can stop and hold on to each other, pray and hug, be thankful for Elle, and just be for a moment.  Sometimes God needs to interrupt us to say, "Be still and know that I am God."

Well, Lord, I'm listening.  And thanks.