And So It Begins…

As my oldest child turned 13, it dawned on me that I don’t have much time left to have complete time with my children. My youngest will very soon be 8 yrs old and it is rather heartbreaking knowing our time is limited. However, she informs me that she never wants me to leave her nor does she want to move out when she gets old enough to start living on her own. In contrast my oldest son wants to get his ear gaged and dye his hair different colors to “fit in” more and tells me he can’t wait to move out and explore his options of adulthood. I still have my other two children who are 9 and 12 who really do not care at this point and time to look that far into the future. They are just happy to be.

And so it begins…that limited time of mommy is fun. Limited time of mommy knows best. Limited time that mommy can still kiss the hurt away. I will treasure the time I have left and give sloppy kisses till they scream.

Weird Dreams.

Well after a year (give or take a few months) sabbatical, I am back to blogging about my thoughts and my life and what ever else strikes my fancy.

I had a very unusual dream a few days ago and it has as of yet to leave my thoughts. If you have kept up with my blogs, you will remember that I wrote about the disturbing dreams I have had in the past and how vividly I dream.

This was no different. A strange, unusual, not frightening, weird as hell dream. One that I am still trying to decipher.

Here it goes.

I dreamed that my husband and I were enjoying a nice walk and enjoying each others company, when I heard people shouting for help. I ran to the people who needed help and found a man dressed in a black shirt and green cargo shorts, lying face down on the ground. The people who were there told me he had swallowed a snake, or rather the snake jumped into his mouth and lodged itself into his throat. I, being terrified of snakes, was afraid to touch the man for fear of the snake coming out and jumping on me. However, my instincts took over and I needed to help this poor man.

I tried to see if he was breathing, so I touched his chest (he somehow turned over to his back) and he moved. It was if he was being puppeteered, moving but not of his own.  He started to vomit this clear liquid. He vomited three times and then the end of this snake started coming out of his mouth. I asked someone to gently pull the end of the snake to remove it from the mans throat. As the snake was removed, the man began breathing. I looked on the ground where the snake was lying and it was a snake that I had ever seen before. It had a very large thick head and then the body tapered to a point. Sort of like an elongated tear drop. A woman said she knew what type of snake it was. The name she said has eluded me but it sounded something like “koozoo” or “kuzoo”. I’m not sure.

The snake was about 2 feet long and the mouth and teeth were under the head instead of being at the tip, like a sucker fish, but with fangs and no sucker. It was black and green on the top side of the body and the bottom was white and very smooth.

The paramedics arrived and came to his aid. I told them that he vomited three times but there was no hemoptysis. The paramedics then began to wrap a blue self sticking gauze around his entire face and neck, however the man had no trouble breathing.

My dream ended there. This dream is the most peculiar dream I have ever had. I really wish I could decipher these dreams I have. What is my subconscious trying to work out? What did I see to make me dream this weird dream? Questions that will most likely never be answered. What a weird dream.

Laughter Really Is The Best Medicine…

*This may not be the best video posted on here but due to certain irritating frustrations from a site designed to host videos, I have had to resort to recapturing it to show here.*

I have bad days, like most people. When it seems like everything is going to collapse down upon me, when I can’t breathe, can’t smile, laugh, move, function; I have my children. They can make a bad day, good. They have this internal mechanism that senses when I need a laugh, or a hug. Mostly they make me laugh.

Research has shown health benefits of laughter ranging from strengthening the immune system to reducing food cravings to increasing one’s threshold for pain. There’s even an emerging therapeutic field known as humor therapy to help people heal more quickly, among other things. Humor also has several important stress relieving benefits.

I love to laugh and to have a good time and not worry about everyday stresses. Alas, most days that isn’t so. I miss my husband tremendously. I miss his laughter, his twinkling eyes, his warmth, smell, touch; I miss his hugs and kisses the most. While I feel melancholy, my children pick up on this and do silly little things to make me laugh. For instance, my 3 yr old daughter tells me while I am making her breakfast, “Momma, I love you. You are my friend and I tell my friends secrets.”  How astute she is in her observations of my long face, lol. She has been the one to make me laugh the most, not because she is special or that no one else can make me laugh, because it just so happens she is the youngest and has the most innocence of all the kids. My boys and my oldest daughter make me laugh all the time too but DD3 is the funniest.

My boys make me laugh with their silly antics, my DD5 makes me laugh with her many “fluffies” and pretend burps. They all tell me how much they love me and they all in their own unique way, have special abilities to make me laugh. They are smart, funny, respectful and loving, very loving. I couldn’t be a happier mother. They make my days brighter and less lonely and a little more interesting, to say the least. Laughter really is the best medicine…

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

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

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

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

My impish little girl    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.