Sunday, September 21, 2014

Cajun 'Ti Beau and the Cocodries Book Trailer


 
My son-in-law Garrett started working on my book trailer but he's in his last semester of college (graduates computer science in December) and so my daughter-in-law Tavyn took over in finding music and panning the pictures and creating something overall fun and awesome for a mother-in-law who writes and has no techie abilities whatsoever. 
 
I'm grateful to them both and pretty sure it worked out well because I doubt my son-in-law would have ever thought to add sparkles and glitter at the end of this. ;-)
 
*~*~*~ Coming September 30th ~*~*~*

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Household Churning into Autumn




Autumn always churns me back to household.
Especially meal planning.
I must be part squirrel or a mama bear at heart. ;-)
 
My friend Mary Ellen over at Tales from The Bonny Blue House has a new plan at her house:
Menu Mondays  (especially for lazy chefs)
 
And I'm anxious to try her Cozy, Fall Cleaning Chart because I am definitely a lazy housecleaner. When the energy kicks in, I become rabid and the family likes me even less. Perhaps breaking it down into sections of Outside, Inside, Wardrobe, Kitchen/Food, Health as Mary Ellen shows will help the most unmotivated housecleaner.
Maybe?


Monday, September 8, 2014

Why We Aren't Happy?



Perhaps....just perhaps...it's because you're stuck in one of the first three levels of happiness.

Level I:  Instant Gratification
Level II: Personal Achievement or Ego
Level III: Good Beyond Yourself/ Give Yourself to the World (Random Acts of Kindness---Paying it Forward)
Level IV: Ultimate Good---Union with God

You'll know when you've reached the fourth level. You'll know.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

An Ode to my Husband

When my husband told me this song made him think of me, I bled a little closer.

And the only words I heard...the words that made me bleed, as him thinking of me...were these:

"Cause all of me loves all of you... loves...All YOUR EDGES..."

I agreed because I'm a brickload of edges. 
 
I know myself.
I'm the quirky one. The one who treads lightly. Moves slowly. Snaps quick and blunt.
 
But I knew that couldn't possibly be all he meant. So I listened a little closer to the lyrics.
And I heard what he was trying to say.
 
There's curves between those edges.
 
* * * * *

We always think of our faults...don't we?...our flaws...our sins...our crutches...our edges.

It leaves us weak and vulnerable and broken. It leaves us guarded and wanting. It leaves us cautious and clueless.

Clueless that our loved ones see the curves despite the edges.

There are days that amaze me that he still listens to me.
 After 28 years and 31 year together.
 That he loves me the way he does...even those jagged edges.

That he sees my imperfections perfectly and raises them up instead of tearing them down.


That, after 28 years, he can still make me laugh...irritatingly so...but still...

And the ways he cares for us and provides for us.

He went to work sick yesterday. Sick.
That is not a sign of weakness.

And the way he loves our children is, by far, my greatest reward.
It is said:

 
He gives unselfishly in the way he shows love for me and love for our children.
Even in discipline.
Especially in discipline.
Most especially in discipline.

Especially those girls...ah, those girls...who need their daddy to show them love and compassion and protection of a greater Father.


 And those sons who need someone to show them strength and compassion, in separate palms yet meeting in the middle.
So they can know how to love and listen well to their brides.

And, OH MY! the way he loves our grandsons!



A husband who heroically prays for his family and a hurting lost humanity is probably the thing I love the most about him.

And the way he has no qualms about showing his feelings and heart to family members and friends.
 
He's a big man with an even bigger heart.

I'm the quirky one. The one who treads lightly. Moves slowly. Snaps quick and blunt.
He has claimed to admire my intellect and my independence and the way I shore up during times of crisis.
I guess he loves my self-confidence of who I am and my practical, no-nonsense synergy when it comes to caring for our family.

I don't know. I'm just guessing.

I see my flaws. Repeatedly.
I fight my sins. Daily.
 I cut others with my edges. Sorrowfully.

That he sees my faults and edges and loves me anyway means what I knew the first time he looked at me and smiled.

God had answered all my prayers.
 

When Humanity Hurts

Because it will...







































One must train oneself to withdraw and go inside themselves to find God.

It's necessary.

It's self-preservation.

One can either get mad at the world and rant and raise one's fist to the heavens...

Or...

One can wrap their arms around a hurting world and sing A Love Song to Humanity.

How so?

1) Pray
2) Listen to the complaining of another because usually complaining is the voice of hurt trying to overcome
3) Write - Journal - Blog
4) Look for beauty---anywhere and everywhere
5) Seek out a friend...not just any friend...a spiritual mentor. If one is not to be found, turn to spiritual writers. Be careful, prudent, whom you allow into your home and heart.
6) Sow sacred areas of calm within your home (that is what I did this morning).
7) Visit Adoration
8) Open Scripture
9) Walk
10) Read poetry
11) Photograph things that speak to you, calm you, uplift you, beautify your life

* * * * *

Cause even when you're loosing...

You're winning.

Is that possible???

That idea is hard for us to grasp. Almost impossible for children to understand.


But sometimes all we can do...all we must do...is sing A Love Song to Humanity and trust that the master conductor will fine tune that song for us and the rest of humanity.

So that we can win...despite our loosing...and we can overcome...despite the hurt of a humanity who hurts us because they have their own hurt.

Friday, July 18, 2014

MayMay's Mantra

 

I need to have this verse copied onto a plaque (with a few relevant changes such as:

MayMays know what life is about...
No one leaves this house with an
empty belly,
without getting a hug,
and without hearing her say
I love you.
* * * * *
I don't have high expectations of myself as a MayMay.

I'm really not all that fun.


But I do pray my little boys will at least remember a hug and a kiss and all kinds of good food at MayMay's house.

It helps to remind myself that I am the MayMay now. I'm the storybook teller. The movie-time watcher. The stroll around the park pusher. The prayer warrior. The gingerbread maker. The guardian of their soul.

I've done all the hard work. I've taught a small squad how to tie their shoes and brush their teeth. I've taught mine how  to dot their "i's" and wipe their behinds. I've filled countless sippy cups (and still do) and I find myself replenishing shelves with playdoh and bubbles once again.

And, really, that's my job. Mostly about making memories with them and insuring that they have safe childhood memories that will get them through tough-tangled, stressful days of adulthood.

MayMay and PawPaw's house should be the port in the storm. Right?

It helps keep my expectations of myself (which can prove disappointing and debilitating) realistic and in check. ;-)

I don't have to do the hard stuff anymore....God willing...even though sometimes it remains hard. (ex: late night text messages concerning pitch-high fevers and mysterious rashes) I've done that. God has blessed those boys with Mommies who do the hard-stuff now.

God-willing, they will always realize the sacred trust they've been granted with those little souls.

I'm now, while still raising a couple of my own, on another peg of the totem pole. The huge task of main-decision-maker has been removed from my shoulders.

Only parents know the HUGE task this is.

I remember when crocodile hunter Steve Irwin passed away, they were interviewing his wife and she said that when she got the phone call she remembers looking out in the backyard where the children were playing and wondering, "How am I ever going to raise them alone?"

She questioned the years of decision making ahead of her and the anxiety of being the only parent to make those life-altering decision without the support system that comes in a two-parent household.

But I'm not involved in those ultimate decisions with the grandbabies. Not that the parents don't respectfully ask me but the ultimate decision is not up to me. In truth, it's easier to make the call because the decision and its consequences aren't up to me.

And...quite honestly...I'm relieved. Someone else gets to draw the lottery ticket and, because I've never been a controlling person, I'm fine with that. I realize my ultimate role now is to support the totem pole.

Not build it. Not design it. Not cling to it. Not decide where it needs to go.

Oh, I can do a couple of touch ups here and there. I can caress it. I can suggest ideas.

But my main task now is to support it.

Sometimes that simply means being there. To answer worried text message. To have supper cooked. To listen. To sympathize. To radiate joy in the moment.


When one of my daughter-in-laws went back to work, I knew that my main task was not to control her decision or to enforce my own ideals. My main task was to support her. The weekend she works, I try my best to open that weekend in order to watch the baby and devote myself completely to a weekend of memory-making. To know that between work and baby, she has little or no time to herself. So being available if they want to sneak away for a date night is important.

When one daughter-in-law decided to stay home, I knew my main task was to support the time-consuming role of stay-at-home mom and make myself available (as much as I am able) for when she needs a day off or when she needs to run a quick errand. Like the other daughter-in-law, she has little time for herself. Their lives are both different yet both require sacrifices.

If I don't do enough it's because I'm only human and have no clue I'm not doing enough. It might also be because it isn't my job to do it all.

I am lucky they don't demand much especially as I'm still parenting my own preteen and teen...which every parent knows can be one of the most grueling time of a parent's career. But it helps the family, as a whole, to have those two extra aunties to help wrestle babysitting and those two extra daughters to help with endless carpool. Sometimes wonder if the older girls, in fact, help me more often than not in getting the older aunties to all their extracurricular agendas.

It takes a family to grow children. I hope all my children pick-up that message more than any other. It takes all of us. Not one of us.




As someone who does not care to be in control or dominate a situation, I find myself falling into the role of MayMay quite easily. I'm enjoying the division line. I'm exploring new avenues for myself. I'm freeing myself to be a good MayMay but to remember who God made me to be first. I've found it easy to let go of my clutch on my own babies and focus more on the new babies. Never to assume. Never to expect beyond expecting. Always to pray.

Knowing I have two daughter-in-loves I communicate well with helps in many, many ways. If they don't like what I say or do, at least they are very respectful and courteous in the way they dismiss the crazy lady who raised five kids of her own. And they never throw in my face the faults of the two that they freely chose. ;-)

Respect and courtesy go a long way.

Perhaps I learned this best a long time ago from a mother-in-law who, even when I criticized her, she never criticized me. She simply kept showing up and giving and doing and telling the children what a good Mommy I was.

I weep now at the mere thought. I wasn't that good of a good Mommy. I wasn't that good of a daughter-in-love.

She is the one who overlooked my flaws and kept doing what grandmothers do best. Opening the door. Giving hugs. Cooking and feeding.

She offered advice (sometimes annoyingly so) but I learned a lot on how to be the MayMay I am striving to be simply from the quiet presence between her chair and the stove. Surprisingly all my children (except for the youngest who was too young to remember) have said that her death was one of the most life-altering events of their young lives. It rocked their very soul.

I don't want my death to affect my grandchildren to that degree, but I do want to be remembered the way they remember her. Fondly. Lovingly. Always there. A hug. A kiss. And all those dishes she fixed for them that used to drive me slap nuts that she was defiantly spoiling them despite all my protests.

Like me...she wasn't all that much fun. But, gosh, they loved her for who she was anyway.

I doubt I'll ever rock their world. PawPaw does that best.



I'm not the best MayMay in the world. I'm not the best mother-in-law. I know my weaknesses and my faults. It's in knowing them that I'm able to forgive myself and pray that others will forgive me (and accept me) when I don't meet their expectations.

But, while I may not rock my grandchildren's world, I pray I rock their soul. Afterall, their soul is the most precious part of their being. And that is what MayMay's are the guardians of.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

I Knew This Day Would Come

Even on days when six other people walking around the house, I knew this would happen one day.

My first hint was the pet morkie poo walking swiftly between rooms holding a bag of graham cracker crumbs in her mouth.


{reorganizing MayMay's bookshelves}
I had been telling myself I needed to childproof the walk-in pantry. I knew this.




But when is an 18 month seldom out of one's sight? Right?
How does a toddler escape one's vision?




 
Especially when there are SIX other humans walking around in the house with good to middling eyesight. Right?

When I was raising my babies and they were in secret corners pulling their shenanigans, we didn't have Instagram or Facebook. No social media, for that matter. No blogs either.

Today there are all of these...and more.

And I have grandsons...going on #3.
They aren't bad. At all. One's not even here. Yet.
They're just little, which means they're very young. And very free-spirited. And very curious.

And have I mentioned they're all boys?

So that's my excuse for picture sharing instead of sitting in said-pantry simply crying and pulling my hair out...as I might have done in my past life.

I'm a much different person than I was 27 years ago.

I'm a MayMay now. ;-)

The only thing I dread these days are my sons looking down at me and saying:
"Mother, did we not teach you anything? Anything at all?"

* * * * *
 Have I mentioned lately how nice and peaceful the view from my patio is???? ;-)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

"Calm Your Nerves"

This is a favorite saying of my soon-to-be daughter-in-law when the baby is fussy or fretting. I found it humorous at first, then I quickly began using it with my younger girls, a teen and preteen who can easily become fussy over a variety of things.

"Calm Your Nerves."

Surprisingly, and I'm sure it's the humor projected from saying it, I find that it helps calm my nerves. In reality, the mother must calm her own nerves before we can expect to calm the child's nerves. Often we're tense over bills to be paid, supper to be cooked, errands to run, deadlines to meet, expectations to follow. Those darn expectations! Our children sense the twinge of our nerves and hear the echo in the tone of our voice.

It doesn't do the children any good if I am wound-up tight alongside of them. Taunt wires become frayed and pop. I remember those times. Though inevitable in every household, I don't want them in mine. It helps to be reminded to loosen those wires. Masterly inactivity always serves our children well. It allows them an "easy, happy relationship" with their parent.

That's an important commodity.


It helped me today to get reacquainted with an old mentor of mine through this article.

"Like it or not, we inspire our children. The question is, what do we inspire in them? If we are harried and hurried, we are certainly not at our best. Our attitudes are contagious. When we argue, complain, or speak bitter words, our children learn from that:
“A nervous, anxious, worried mother can’t have an easy, happy relationship with her child. She might be the best mother in the world in all other respects, but all her children will pick up from her when she’s like that is a touch of her nerves, which is the most contagious of bad habits. She’ll perceive her children as grouchy, rebellious, and unmanageable, but she won’t realize that it’s her own fault–not the fault of her actions, but the fault of her mood.”  ~ Charlotte Mason
Read more here: Masterly Inactivity by Jamie


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