Loudly I’ll Live….

Oh, how I have missed writing. Ironically, coming from someone who has never really written anything in her life, it’s a little funny. It has comforted me when I have had no one to express my fears to. As inanimate as a screen is, it comes to life when words are put upon it. My heart feels freer than it has in days, when I write.

My husband is deployed yet again. He came home from a previous deployment in July of ‘09 and was home for 5 months. They (his command) decided that (they) needed to go out to sea again for 6 months. It is harder this time compared to last. I miss him more, I want him more. A month has gone by and it has felt like it has already been 6 months with him gone. I cry about everything. A commercial depicting a child crying for her father; I cry. A song on the radio pleading for their loved one to come back; I cry. My children playing and laughing, asking me if I am going to pick up their father today; I cry.  I cry at the drop of a hat. However, this is when I dig deep inside of my shell and seek the courage I need to become stronger for my children, and myself.

I find music acts like a balm to my breaking heart. Music lifts me out of a bad mood and places me high on an iridescent cloud, away from all the discouraging happenings around me. I listen to the music and close my eyes and see all the wonderful colors associated with the sounds. Purples, greens, yellows, reds; breathtakingly beautiful colors. Music heals me.

To pass the lonely time away from my husband, I go to school. Two days a week, 4 hours a day, not too long. Going to school distracts me and empowers me. I have dreamed of going back to school to further my nursing career. My dream was briefly put on hold in the past due to having and raising my wonderful children. A sacrifice I was more than willing to do. I love(d) watching my children grow and flourish. Now it is my time. My husband has provided a way for me to continue with my education and my wonderful mother has agreed to stay with us and watch our children so I can carry out my dream. I thank both of them from the top, sides, and bottom of my heart. Thank you both.

I have said before that music helps me, especially Contemporary Christian music. There is a song that I fell in love with the nano-second I heard it. The title of the song is “I’m Alive” by Pocket Full Of Rocks. Yes, that is what I said, “Pocket Full Of Rocks?!” Did I hear that correctly?? Yes, I did. Funny as the groups title may seem, It is a wonderful song about believing and trusting in the Lord to forgive us of our wrongs and love us no matter what. I need that. To be forgiven and loved. It is a need everyone has. To be told no matter what you do, however great or bad, you will always be forgiven and loved. I know there are things that truly cannot be forgiven by mortal man. Then again, God is no mortal man, and he is without sin. He gave us his Son, Christ, to forgive our sins; to die for our sins, so we could be forgiven. Forgive me if I seem preachy. I am far from being that. I am not trying to persuade anyone to believe in God, I am just conveying what I believe. Anyway, back to what I was saying about the song. It is a beautiful song and worth listening to. I will give you a glimpse of the song and then put in a link to listen to it. Your choice to listen or not, I am just giving you an option.

I’m Alive

There was a time I was dead inside.
You’d call my name and I’d try to hide.
My heart was dark and so full of shame,
Full of shame.
But like the dawning of a brand new day
Your love has chased my shame away.
How amazing, now I hear You singing over me!
Over me!

Loudly, I sing
Loudly, I live
Giving You all I have to give,
Until the world knows the Love that’s made me so alive
I’m alive, I’m alive!

Loudly I’ll live…That I will definitely do.

Hand in Hand

Hand in Hand

It has been a while since I have had the desire to write. I’ve wanted to, but things happened that have either prevented me from wanting to or it wasn’t possible.

I sit here, grasping for the right words to convey what I want to write. Nothing comes to mind. I feel lost…I’m looking for the right path to take me where I need to be in life, and that path somehow, eludes me.

Looking at this picture of my girls walking hand in hand, I see that they trust each other, they know who guides them to be lead safely in the right direction. One knows which way to go, one knows to hold on and follow. They follow with their hearts, knowing there is a higher presence leading them. They do it with an innocence that makes me yearn to have it.  It is a lesson that I need to learn from them: Trust.

Somehow my faith has faltered in times when I needed it the most. I want to feel connected and whole again. Could I be happy and know without a doubt that He will always be there for me? I seek that innocence, the knowledge, to let go and trust that, Yes, He will always be there, He will always know which way to go. I just need to believe and trust with my heart.

Just as my girls have faith and trust Him and each other, to guide their hearts and minds,  I must have trust in my faith…have faith in my heart.

Obsession with Drawing…

Chalk Drawing

My son. He will be 8 soon and is a very precocious, intelligent, smart-aleck artist. He started drawing, wow…years ago. Stick figures to start and then, it seemed like overnight, he just started drawing realistically. It is quite impressive really. I am thoroughly amazed, not just because I am his mother but to be honest, I am awestruck.

His view on things, his perception, what he sees, is very detailed. He has an impeccable memory. Able to recall things, he’s only seen once, and draw it perfectly on paper. He comes home from school, and the first thing he wants to do is…(no, not eat, watch T.V. or play outside)…draw.

He is obsessed with drawing dinosaurs, Star Wars Battle Droids or Jedi Fighters. All the time. Constantly. If he could draw instead of breathe, it would be done.

We recently went to a dear friend’s for Memorial Day and they (the kid’s) played in the rain and played in the pool and just had a great time. My son decided he was done for the remainder of the day and asked if he could…..Yep, you guessed it, DRAW! Not with pencil’s or pen’s but chalk.

I didn’t see him for a while and was talking to my friend, catching up on gossip, that sort of thing and out of the blue, I hear my son call my name and request that I close my eyes to come see what he had done. Not the best thing for a very clumsy mom to do, but I honored his wish and closed my eyes. He grabbed my hand, and I must say, it felt so good to hold my independent child’s hand. For him to grab my hand and excitedly lead me with my eyes closed, down the driveway to his masterpiece, was an honor. I felt his pride, his accomplishment, his rapture. I felt it and it was an amazing feeling

He truly outdid himself. The picture above is a drawing of a Velociraptor. How do I know? Because since he was 2, I have had to memorize and help him decode each and every friggin dinosaur known to human kind, thats how.

I could not be more proud of his ability to draw, to memorize every detail, than I was of him at that very moment…My boy…Amazing.

Happy Memorial Day Honey…

 

Hubs

Thank you so much for sacrificing yourself for our country. Thank you for sacrficing your time with our children and I. I am so very proud of you for all that you do to keep our country and children safe. I hope you have a wonderful day and will see you soon. I love you and am so very honored to have you in my life. 

Thank you everyone who has served or are serving our country. Thank you for your sons and daughters, grand-daughters, grand-sons, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, neices and nephews,  who have sacrificed their lives for us. I/we are always in your debt. THANK YOU ALL!!!

Life Goes On….

Recently, I have had a very dear friend remove me from their lives completely…Something I said and did they did not approve of and now I am deleted…I hurt, I cry, but most of all I am lost…I know it will get better as the days go by, and my heart will stop from aching…I will miss the friendship we had…Life goes on whether we want it to or not…I will learn from this and make myself better…I am honored of the friendship we had…I am blessed with the wonderful memories I will have…Life goes on…And reluctantly,  so must I…the video is dedicated to them…thank you so much…

My Little Imp

    It has been a while since I have posted anything. Not because I didn’t want to, I just have been super busy. As I have said before, I wanted to write everyday but found that as much as I wanted to, things always came up.

   Now onto this lovey little pic I have here. This is my DD2, she is a funny little girl who just adores her older siblings to death. She is a very headstrong girl and will let you know when you are doing something that she disapproves of, by screaming at an octave that will shatter your poor eardrums. Ohhhhh yes, she is a screamer…UGH! 

   Having said that, she is also a very precocious child. She loves to go into the back yard and collect “cayerpiyars” (translation: caterpillars) and butterflies and anything else she can grab. Can you see me shuddering? Also, she loves to pass “fluffies” as she has been taught to call them.

   Passing gas, farting, you know, all the gross things only boys can think of. Yes, she has been taught by her older brothers that farting, passing “fluffies”, is an extremely funny thing to do. She will walk along with them, laughing hysterically, at their bodily noises. Don’t get me wrong, watching my kids laugh uncontrollably at things that are gross, is…well…funny.

   I love to hear her laugh. I love to see her eyes twinkle with mirth, when she has done something funny or has seen something funny. Her humor has increased and she understands what is funny, rather than watching reactions from someone to indicate when she should laugh. She cracks me up, with her innocence. The sparkle in her eyes, is captivating. I often wonder, what exactly, is she thinking of for them to shine so beautifully.

   I hope she NEVER loses that innocent humor she has, the twinkle in her eyes or her impish laughter.

Persnickety, I am.

First, I would like to say, that this particular blog is not about my kids, but about me.  I believe I am a nice, sweet, loving, at times moody, emotional woman. Dedicated to God, my husband, my children, my job. I am known for my lack of backbone at times, and also for my passionate demeanor when I know I am right Which, just so happens to be, quite often, hehe. *ahem* Anyway, I am a VERY picky person.

I am a picky person when it comes to food, clothes, surroundings, you name it, I am picky about it. It is well known to my friends and family, that I have a penchant for having things just so. For instance, I have to have the pictures on my walls hanging perfectly. If they are crooked in any way, I MUST fix it. Things have to be straight, just right, perfect, or I have to do it all over again. If I am at a friends house and I see their pictures hanging cockeyed, I have to resist the urge to climb up, onto whatever I can (I am extremely vertically challenged) and readjust it. Call me a nutter but that is the way I am.

Also, My dishes in my dishwasher have to be in order. Bowls on the right, cups on the left, plates on the bottom, utensils in order. Crazy, I know. I also have to shower in order. Yes, I said shower. I will spare the details because it can get quite lengthy.

Having said this, I have my MIL (Mother-in-Law) staying with me to help while my hubs is gone for deployment. I have told her nicely, the way I like things. Whether she forgets or just does it with out thinking, it isnt done the way I do it. I know she is trying to help, but when it is done a different way than the way I do it, I cant breathe, I panic. I have tried my best to let go and tell myself, it is alright, it is NOT the end of the world. But that only gets me so far.

I have a huge problem with change. Change brings uncertainty. I definitely do not like uncertainty. Uncertainty is scary. I need to know what is there, what is going on. I need to have a plan…But that is for another blog at a later time though, lol.

Now, I am NOT the most cleanliest person in the world. I keep my house clean as best I can with four crazy, rambunctious and precocious children at home. As I clean, they are right behind me messing it up. It happens. I am ok with that. I am NOT a neat freak. Ironically, I do not panic if the house is messy, lol. I have what I like to call, Organized Chaos, in my house. My computer desk may be messy at times, but I know exactly where “that” piece of paper is. Trust me, it works. My hubs does not understand it, and gets a little peeved when things are not filed quickly or things aren’t picked up right away. Though eventually they will get done. I must say, in light of my craziness, he has put up with a lot from me and for that I am grateful.

I am a picky person. That is me. I love unconditionally but Persnickety, I am.

My Boys

Me and my Boys

The Boys. That’s exactly what they are, boys. They are rough, love to pass gas, laugh uncontrollably because they did, and love unconditionally. I am blessed that no matter how much I yell at them to clean their room, do their chores, finish homework or tell them to stop bouncing off of the walls, that they will do anything to make me happy.

Sure I get frustrated, which parent doesn’t? And the parents who say they aren’t frustrated, let me say something; Bullhockie! You get frustrated, EVERYONE does!

My boys are smart. They pick up information rather quickly, and will use it against me every-time. LOL. They think that whatever they do, I haven’t done it. Wrong. I have. Probably worse. My eldest has gotten into a habit of saying, well momma will believe me about anything. No. I give them a chance to fess up, before the angry mark between momma’s eyes gets worse.

Aside from the regular things boys do, I love them. More than anything, I love my children. I sometimes feel that I am denying them perfection. I feel inadequate as a parent. No, parents do not come equipped with a rule book, or handbook to guide them across the-omg he just did what?! Where?! Why?! Nor is there anything out there to help you answer the difficult questions, that only a child can ask.

I do not believe I will ever be a perfect parent. I can however, at this time in their life, love them, be there for them, and guide them to do the right thing to the best of my abilities. I want them to grow up to be smart, successful, strong, kind hearted men. I hope and pray that one day, they will see all the sacrifices we have made and all the selfless things we done for them, and tell me/us, “Hey, we totally appreciate all the wonderful things you have taught us, and all the love you have given us, thank you.”  That’s all I could ever want, for them to be happy.

Rainy Day Fun

Air Museum

I took the kids to the Air and Space Museum yesterday. I must say, it was pretty nice. The kids were excited about all the aircraft there and couldn’t wait to explore the place. What I liked about it was, it had an area of testing and observing things for yourself.

For instance, they had a bed of nails. Now according to the laws of whatever it is, you can lay down on the nails and because your body weight is evenly distributed, you cant “feel” the nails piercing you. Surprisingly, it is true. I tried it out, pretty awesome. I felt the nails, but it didn’t hurt at all.  The kids (all of them, including the 2 yr old) wanted to try it out. Everyone had their turn and when it came to my DD4’s turn, she quickly and vehemently screamed, no!  Ok, since that rather loud outburst, we went on to another area, lol.

What captivated them the most, (the younger three) was this area where you could build aircraft;  jets, planes, space shuttles, you name it. The wings were magnetic, so the little ones could place them on and not have to worry about it falling off, point given to the museum. Saved me a ton of screams if the wings fell off, ugh.

This museum had three floors. On the second floor, was anything you could imagine about outer space. They had planet’s as big as a building hanging up on the ceiling. I loved that. I was telling the children which planet’s were which. Stars and planet’s fascinate me. Alas, they weren’t as into it as I would have liked and wanted to go see more jets, *sigh* oh well, off we went.

The third floor was an observation deck. Umm can I just say, yikes! Heights and I do not mix. Omigosh, I was terrified but they insisted on going up there. The view was, absolutely gorgeous and worth the heart beating erratically. I was alright as long as I didn’t look down. Didn’t help any that the stairs were metal grates though, ugh. Talk about chewing on your stomach. I got through it unscathed, amazingly.

All in all it was a nice place to take the kids on a rainy day. I would definitely take them again.

Thunderstorms

Thunder and Lightening

I can’t sleep… I haven’t been able to get a good night’s rest since my hubs left. I can never sleep without him. I need his warmth, his heartbeat, his snoring (yes I said snoring, lol). Tonight is no different, except for one thing: thunderstorms. I hate thunderstorms; I am terrified of them. I may be the only person on this planet who doesn’t like thunderstorms. I am also terrified of lightning. It scares the bejesus out of me.

Now I have tried a number of things to get my mind off of the noise outside: listen to music, dance around the room, take a shower. Nothing. I still hear the low rumblings and I feel the house vibrate. It really makes my chest ache with fear. And, unfortunately, I have passed this idiotic fear off to my kids. They hear it and are too scared to sleep. So, they end up sleeping with the terrified momma.

The fear really is unwarranted. I do not recall a moment in my life where I was traumatized or anything. I just, overnight, became terrified of the boom of thunder, and the crack and flash of lightning. I have just put up with the fear, as there is nothing I can do, really.

I have many fears. I am afraid of snakes, bugs, any creepy crawly thing (they give me the heebie jeebies). I am afraid of bridges and heights. I am afraid of going up in an elevator, although I have no fear of closed spaces ironically, just going up in an elevator. I am afraid of something happening to my children, but that is every parents’ fear. The thing that scares me the most, though, is that gripping fear of being alone. Alone is so final, so chest clinchingly scary. Alas, those are fears with which I deal; they are a part of who I am. Me.

Eventually, the storm will pass. That’s what I tell myself.