This week a very special package arrived on my doorstep. A new book! My friend actually wrote her first novel and I cannot wait to read it. I may not just read it...I want to escape into it!! Devour it, chapter by chapter.
Lately I have been looking at life as a series of chapters in a very long book. The first few chapters are a blur because they happened such a long time ago. The next few chapters are kind of bunched together because memories are tricky sometimes. I remember going to the beach every summer with the Clay family. In actuality it was maybe 3 or 4 years in a row but we had such a fun time my memory of all of our beach trips gets mixed together. These beach memories make my childhood such a long and happy chapter.
Some chapters I wish I could erase. I know these chapters made me grow and learn tough lessons. Still, I want my life to be written like a romantic comedy. Doesn't everyone?
Other chapters are not even about me. They are written about those major characters in my life. My sister getting married, my parents moving twice since I have graduated from high school, my Dad having and beating cancer about twenty years ago (that was a terrible chapter), my brothers-in law and sisters-in-law making me an aunt many times over (I gotta tell ya, being called Auntie Kat is the most wonderful thing!), my father-in-law being confined to a wheelchair, my mother-in-law having the strangest of health issues (really!), my oldest son getting into the gifted program at school, my youngest son having to get glasses and realizing he was truly seeing for the first time. All of these chapters are very important chapters and have overlapped into my life story. Good chapters and bad ones.
As I move forward and on to the next chapter in my life I must admit that I am anxious for it to already be written and over. On Friday my Mom will be undergoing surgery to remove a lump from her breast. Yes, cancer has reared its ugly head....again. I will be positive that this chapter will be a short one. One that will result in health and happiness. This chapter will be one of those that I wish to erase but I will be glad to have the closeness and love of my family when it is over.
I am thankful to have all of my long and short chapters in my life. I recognize that I need to have the good chapters as well as the bad to make life worth reading. I am also grateful to have my friends new book to lose myself in while sitting in the waiting room trying to get through this current chapter.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
The New Kid
We all know what it feels like to be the new kid. And we all ask ourselves the classic internal questions. Will everyone like me? What exactly am I supposed to be doing? Will I totally embarrass myself on the very first day? Who will I eat lunch with? Am I wearing the right clothes for this?
I have been the new kid with each move that my family has made and with each new job that I have taken. It doesn't get any easier.
I was the new kid when we moved from Albany, GA to Cincinnati, OH. I remember everyone making fun of me because of my "twangy" accent. One kid in my class didn't even believe that I was American. He told his mother that they had one foreigner in their class and she was from Georgia! Being the new kid isn't easy.
I was the new kid when we moved to Perry, FL midway through fifth grade. On my first day of school I remember Amanda Wiles towering over me to see if I was a Florida fan or a Florida State fan. Looking eye level at her FSU Seminole sweatshirt I immediately claimed allegiance to Florida State. I wore my new grey suede boots with plaid roll down cuffs that day and felt good about it. Trey Howard laughed at me and said "Nice boots, Fancy Girl." Well, at least I had Amanda Wiles on my side! But the Fancy Girl nickname stuck for a while. (And I never wore those boots to school again!)
I was the new kid when we moved to Germantown, TN. My best friend lived there too and I was so excited to have an instant friend. After she introduced me to her friends I realized that she wasn't the person that I thought she was. She was letting her friends read all of my notes that I wrote her during class. They would memorize my notes and repeat them at lunch. I was so embarrassed. Lunchtime became so lonely. I hated being the new kid.
I was the new kid when I started working for American Express. I was lucky because Kelly Myers was the new kid with me. At first she hurt my feelings on a daily basis with her dry-biting sence of humor, but then I realized that she was teaching me some valuable lessons. She was honest, funny, and got me in lots of trouble. I loved every second of it. She toughened my skin and helped me find the humor in life. Being the new kid is much easier when you have someone to share it with.
On January 3rd I will be the new kid again. I got a new job working for the school district. It is only part time, but I am asking myself all of those same internal questions. Will everyone like me? What exactly am I supposed to be doing? Will I totally embarrass myself on the very first day? Who will I eat lunch with? Am I wearing the right clothes for this?
We will see...
I have been the new kid with each move that my family has made and with each new job that I have taken. It doesn't get any easier.
I was the new kid when we moved from Albany, GA to Cincinnati, OH. I remember everyone making fun of me because of my "twangy" accent. One kid in my class didn't even believe that I was American. He told his mother that they had one foreigner in their class and she was from Georgia! Being the new kid isn't easy.
I was the new kid when we moved to Perry, FL midway through fifth grade. On my first day of school I remember Amanda Wiles towering over me to see if I was a Florida fan or a Florida State fan. Looking eye level at her FSU Seminole sweatshirt I immediately claimed allegiance to Florida State. I wore my new grey suede boots with plaid roll down cuffs that day and felt good about it. Trey Howard laughed at me and said "Nice boots, Fancy Girl." Well, at least I had Amanda Wiles on my side! But the Fancy Girl nickname stuck for a while. (And I never wore those boots to school again!)
I was the new kid when we moved to Germantown, TN. My best friend lived there too and I was so excited to have an instant friend. After she introduced me to her friends I realized that she wasn't the person that I thought she was. She was letting her friends read all of my notes that I wrote her during class. They would memorize my notes and repeat them at lunch. I was so embarrassed. Lunchtime became so lonely. I hated being the new kid.
I was the new kid when I started working for American Express. I was lucky because Kelly Myers was the new kid with me. At first she hurt my feelings on a daily basis with her dry-biting sence of humor, but then I realized that she was teaching me some valuable lessons. She was honest, funny, and got me in lots of trouble. I loved every second of it. She toughened my skin and helped me find the humor in life. Being the new kid is much easier when you have someone to share it with.
On January 3rd I will be the new kid again. I got a new job working for the school district. It is only part time, but I am asking myself all of those same internal questions. Will everyone like me? What exactly am I supposed to be doing? Will I totally embarrass myself on the very first day? Who will I eat lunch with? Am I wearing the right clothes for this?
We will see...
Friday, November 9, 2012
Good-bye Mini
Yesterday we traded in our minivan for a new car. I have never been your typical car person. I've always felt that a car just needs you get you from point A to point B. It needs to be reliable, practical and safe. I don't really care what color it is or if it has any bells or whistles. Just want something to get me where I need to go.
In 2006 we had a 3 year old, a new baby, and an unreliable car. Tod and I decided that it may be time to get a minivan. I never thought I would be one of 'those minivan moms'. After test driving just about every minivan that was on the market I decided on the Dodge Grand Caravan. The dealership had 3 to chose from. My decision basically came down to color and automatic doors. If I was going to have to trade in my Cool Card for a minivan I was getting automatic doors/tailgate and it was going to be black (the coolest car color out there!).
Over the next couple of years I was so in awe over my power doors and tailgate. My life of loading groceries, kids, and overall stuff became so much easier. Press a button it opens. Press it again it closes. Ahhh.
Then after another couple of years and I had burned the motor out of the automatic doors. I was back to manually opening doors. I have learned my lesson. Bells and whistles can be more of a headache than a bonus.
The minivan was a very reliable vehicle for us. We only had one hiccup. We broke down in Lexington, KY (only an hour away from our destination). We were able to pull into a gas station and call our insurance company for a tow truck. A very scary man with a giant tow truck came to rescue us. With the four of us crammed in the cab with the scary driver, our minivan was taking the ride of its life. We cut through rush hour traffic, did illegal U-turns, and took corners at top speed. All with white knuckles in the cab, but you could almost hear the minivan saying, "wheeeeeee".
We ended up at the scary tow truck drivers shop. As we drove into the car shop and the chain link fence gate closed behind us I got a little scared. Three very frightening men took the minivan off the truck and quickly got to work. These were the roughest men I had ever seen and none of them remembered to put their teeth in that morning. They told us that it would take about 24 hours to fix. We called Tod's parents and they came to our rescue.
The next day Tod and I went to reclaim the minivan. The shop manager (yes, he was toothless too) gave us a detailed list of everything that they had to do to the minivan. He explained what happened and why. We chatted for a while with him and his mother. We found out that this was a new family auto repair business and they were just getting their business started. We were their first customer. They were thankful, gracious and unexpectedly professional. When I got back in the minivan I noticed that they had washed it and vacuumed the inside. After a 8 hour car ride you can imagine how dirty the INSIDE of the minivan was. This "breakdown" taught me a valuable lesson on not judging a book by it's cover.
So I say goodbye to our beloved minivan. It taught me that going back to the basics just makes life easier and that there is a simple goodness in people no matter what package they come in.
In 2006 we had a 3 year old, a new baby, and an unreliable car. Tod and I decided that it may be time to get a minivan. I never thought I would be one of 'those minivan moms'. After test driving just about every minivan that was on the market I decided on the Dodge Grand Caravan. The dealership had 3 to chose from. My decision basically came down to color and automatic doors. If I was going to have to trade in my Cool Card for a minivan I was getting automatic doors/tailgate and it was going to be black (the coolest car color out there!).
Over the next couple of years I was so in awe over my power doors and tailgate. My life of loading groceries, kids, and overall stuff became so much easier. Press a button it opens. Press it again it closes. Ahhh.
Then after another couple of years and I had burned the motor out of the automatic doors. I was back to manually opening doors. I have learned my lesson. Bells and whistles can be more of a headache than a bonus.
The minivan was a very reliable vehicle for us. We only had one hiccup. We broke down in Lexington, KY (only an hour away from our destination). We were able to pull into a gas station and call our insurance company for a tow truck. A very scary man with a giant tow truck came to rescue us. With the four of us crammed in the cab with the scary driver, our minivan was taking the ride of its life. We cut through rush hour traffic, did illegal U-turns, and took corners at top speed. All with white knuckles in the cab, but you could almost hear the minivan saying, "wheeeeeee".
We ended up at the scary tow truck drivers shop. As we drove into the car shop and the chain link fence gate closed behind us I got a little scared. Three very frightening men took the minivan off the truck and quickly got to work. These were the roughest men I had ever seen and none of them remembered to put their teeth in that morning. They told us that it would take about 24 hours to fix. We called Tod's parents and they came to our rescue.
The next day Tod and I went to reclaim the minivan. The shop manager (yes, he was toothless too) gave us a detailed list of everything that they had to do to the minivan. He explained what happened and why. We chatted for a while with him and his mother. We found out that this was a new family auto repair business and they were just getting their business started. We were their first customer. They were thankful, gracious and unexpectedly professional. When I got back in the minivan I noticed that they had washed it and vacuumed the inside. After a 8 hour car ride you can imagine how dirty the INSIDE of the minivan was. This "breakdown" taught me a valuable lesson on not judging a book by it's cover.
So I say goodbye to our beloved minivan. It taught me that going back to the basics just makes life easier and that there is a simple goodness in people no matter what package they come in.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Just Dreaming
Have you ever had one of those dreams that just stick with you? It is a little too strange to ignore. Well the other night I had one of those dreams.
My Great Uncle Harold was in my dream. We always called him Uncle Brother because my Grandmother called him Brother her whole life. It just seemed so natural to have an Uncle Brother and I never thought it was weird until one of my friends pointed out how odd it truly was.
Anyway...my dream took place at my Uncle Brother and Aunt June's back yard. Uncle Brother approached me with his horse Pepper in tow. I remember Pepper. He was a tall white horse with back specks on his back end. Uncle Brother handed me the reins and said to me in his slow Southern accent, "It is now your turn to take over." I took the reins and he tipped his hat to me and strolled away.
That is it. It may be nothing but the dream was so vivid. I even did some research to find some possible meanings to my dream.
To dream of Horses -
To see a horse in your dream symbolizes strength, power, endurance. It also represents a strong, physical energy. You need to tame the wild forces within. The dream may also be a pun that you are "horsing around". Alternatively, to see a horse in your dream indicates that you need to be less arrogant and "get off your high horse".
If the horse is white, then it signifies purity, prosperity and good fortunes.
To dream of an Uncle -
To see your uncle in your dream represents some aspect of your family heritage and trait. It also symbolizes new ideas and emerging awareness. Consider the idiom "say uncle" to mean surrender or admit defeat.
I am not sure how to put these pieces together and not sure if I really want to know it's specific meaning. I just can't get the image of this dream out of my head.
Last night Uncle Brother and Pepper crept into my dreams again. This time he said to me, "Please take care of everything." Then handed me the reins, tipped his hat, and strolled away.
Hmmm...
Now I really can't stop thinking about what this dream could possibly mean.
Today at lunch, Brady and I went to Panda Express. After eating I cracked open my fortune cookie. My message : YOU WILL RECEIVE A MESSAGE FROM A GREAT DISTANCE. Ok. Now I am completely freaked out. I need to figure out what this message is and how to handle it. What am I supposed to do with the reins.
Maybe tonight I will get some answers.....
My Great Uncle Harold was in my dream. We always called him Uncle Brother because my Grandmother called him Brother her whole life. It just seemed so natural to have an Uncle Brother and I never thought it was weird until one of my friends pointed out how odd it truly was.
Anyway...my dream took place at my Uncle Brother and Aunt June's back yard. Uncle Brother approached me with his horse Pepper in tow. I remember Pepper. He was a tall white horse with back specks on his back end. Uncle Brother handed me the reins and said to me in his slow Southern accent, "It is now your turn to take over." I took the reins and he tipped his hat to me and strolled away.
That is it. It may be nothing but the dream was so vivid. I even did some research to find some possible meanings to my dream.
To dream of Horses -
To see a horse in your dream symbolizes strength, power, endurance. It also represents a strong, physical energy. You need to tame the wild forces within. The dream may also be a pun that you are "horsing around". Alternatively, to see a horse in your dream indicates that you need to be less arrogant and "get off your high horse".
If the horse is white, then it signifies purity, prosperity and good fortunes.
To dream of an Uncle -
To see your uncle in your dream represents some aspect of your family heritage and trait. It also symbolizes new ideas and emerging awareness. Consider the idiom "say uncle" to mean surrender or admit defeat.
I am not sure how to put these pieces together and not sure if I really want to know it's specific meaning. I just can't get the image of this dream out of my head.
Last night Uncle Brother and Pepper crept into my dreams again. This time he said to me, "Please take care of everything." Then handed me the reins, tipped his hat, and strolled away.
Hmmm...
Now I really can't stop thinking about what this dream could possibly mean.
Today at lunch, Brady and I went to Panda Express. After eating I cracked open my fortune cookie. My message : YOU WILL RECEIVE A MESSAGE FROM A GREAT DISTANCE. Ok. Now I am completely freaked out. I need to figure out what this message is and how to handle it. What am I supposed to do with the reins.
Maybe tonight I will get some answers.....
Thursday, July 12, 2012
A Proud Moment
There are many moments when I am proud of my kids. Their grades and effort at school always sends me beaming. The way they treat their family and friends is with such kindness. When someone compliments me on my kids it always makes me proud. Whether it is because of their manners or their spirit it always fills my heart to hear someone boast about them.
When Jacob was little I would get so frustrated because I wanted and expected so much from him. I wanted him to be on his best behavior at all times thinking that what he did or said reflected on my parenting. I guess that is one of the fears with becoming a new parent. Finally, Tod sat me down and gave me a very honest lesson in "lowering my expectations". At first I thought he was crazy and he didn't know what he was talking about. I am the mother. I am the one that people will judge if my kids do anything wrong. What does he know.
Over the last couple of years I have taken his advice. I have "lowered my expectations" in a way. I have learned to just step back and allow my boys to learn from their mistakes and take note on others behavior both good and bad. We continue to have conversations on what is acceptable and expected, but we are very loose on the interpretation. My apron strings are not as tight as they used to be. Don't get me wrong...I still hover....a lot.
This week Jacob has been in basketball camp at our local YMCA. He loves it. Every afternoon he shows me what all he has learned and wakes up early to practice in the garage before we go. Today when I picked him up he was very quiet. I asked if anything was wrong and he said, "No. Can I watch some TV when we get home. I'm tired." Sure. It has been a long week.
We were only home a few minutes when I get a call from the Y. His basketball coach called me to tell me about an incident that happened at camp today. I went in the next room and listened in private. Jacob overheard a conversation between two boys. An older boy told a younger boy that he was going to bring a gun to camp tomorrow and someone was going to die. I was beside myself with shock when I heard this. The younger boy was so afraid. Jacob took the younger boy to the coach and told him everything he heard. The older boy admitted what he said. The Y has a zero tolerance in these matters (this is actually the first time this has happened there) and this child has been permanently released from camp and can no longer attend the Y.
The coach was calling me to tell me how proud she was of Jacob. She said that he certainly did the right thing and should be proud of himself for informing the coach right away. She said that it took courage to stand up to an older kid and stick up for someone else. I was teary when I hung up.
I asked Jacob what happened today at camp. He retold the same story the coach did. I gave him a big hug and told him how proud I was of him. He said that he knew he had to tell on the older boy, but felt bad because he was getting in so much trouble. He felt like it was his fault. Oh...this is why he was so quiet.
We had a talk about sometimes doing the right thing can be a very hard thing to do. I am so very proud of him.
When Jacob was little I would get so frustrated because I wanted and expected so much from him. I wanted him to be on his best behavior at all times thinking that what he did or said reflected on my parenting. I guess that is one of the fears with becoming a new parent. Finally, Tod sat me down and gave me a very honest lesson in "lowering my expectations". At first I thought he was crazy and he didn't know what he was talking about. I am the mother. I am the one that people will judge if my kids do anything wrong. What does he know.
Over the last couple of years I have taken his advice. I have "lowered my expectations" in a way. I have learned to just step back and allow my boys to learn from their mistakes and take note on others behavior both good and bad. We continue to have conversations on what is acceptable and expected, but we are very loose on the interpretation. My apron strings are not as tight as they used to be. Don't get me wrong...I still hover....a lot.
This week Jacob has been in basketball camp at our local YMCA. He loves it. Every afternoon he shows me what all he has learned and wakes up early to practice in the garage before we go. Today when I picked him up he was very quiet. I asked if anything was wrong and he said, "No. Can I watch some TV when we get home. I'm tired." Sure. It has been a long week.
We were only home a few minutes when I get a call from the Y. His basketball coach called me to tell me about an incident that happened at camp today. I went in the next room and listened in private. Jacob overheard a conversation between two boys. An older boy told a younger boy that he was going to bring a gun to camp tomorrow and someone was going to die. I was beside myself with shock when I heard this. The younger boy was so afraid. Jacob took the younger boy to the coach and told him everything he heard. The older boy admitted what he said. The Y has a zero tolerance in these matters (this is actually the first time this has happened there) and this child has been permanently released from camp and can no longer attend the Y.
The coach was calling me to tell me how proud she was of Jacob. She said that he certainly did the right thing and should be proud of himself for informing the coach right away. She said that it took courage to stand up to an older kid and stick up for someone else. I was teary when I hung up.
I asked Jacob what happened today at camp. He retold the same story the coach did. I gave him a big hug and told him how proud I was of him. He said that he knew he had to tell on the older boy, but felt bad because he was getting in so much trouble. He felt like it was his fault. Oh...this is why he was so quiet.
We had a talk about sometimes doing the right thing can be a very hard thing to do. I am so very proud of him.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Louisiana 2012
Every summer we head to Louisiana to visit my Grandmother. The boys love going and were so good on the 12 hour drive down (and back)! Each time we go there is always a new adventure. This year we were able to see a logging operation!!! I think I was more excited about this than the boys! It was such a neat experience!
Here are the boys in front of the tree saw.
Brady in the Skidder
Jacob in the Skidder
Jacob
Brady
Jacob, Brady, and Mimi
One of my Grandmother's friends has a pool. The SAME pool that I swam in each summer as a little girl. Every day we headed over to the pool to cool off and splash around. Brady and my Mom had water gun fights and I was able to teach Jacob how to dive....off of an actual diving board!! Yep...not many pools left with diving boards! He loved it!
Jacob....loving the diving board!
When it was time to leave there was a very loud "NO!!!" from the boys. Makes me feel good that I am not just dragging them around to my summer haunts! They are having just as much fun as I had!
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Toot! Toot!
This blog post has been a year in the making. I've had several titles rolling around in my head including - 365, I Did It!, and Run! Kat! Run! I decided to go with Toot! Toot! because this is the best place for me to just toot my own horn.
Well, today I did it. I ran every day for one year. Every day. Running. For a whole year. I have to admit it is a little anti-climactic...until I looked back at what a year it has been.
I ran through pouring rain, 100 degree heat, 40 mph wind gusts, and a Christmas fog so thick that I almost got lost.
I ran through sinus infections, respiratory infections, massive hangovers, and two broken toes.
I ran through cities like Charlotte and Washington, DC. Mostly I ran through small towns like, Gatlinburg, TN, Warsaw, KY, Morganton, NC, Rayville, LA, Hilton Head Island, SC, and Nokomis, FL.
I fell once - pretty bad. I was chased by barking dogs. I was almost hit by a car and have learned NEVER run in the neighborhood on Garage Sale Day!
I have also learned a lot on my runs. Not only about myself but about my surroundings. Here is what I have learned...
*I love my Brooks running shoes
*The serious dog walkers are out at 5:30am
*Running is a great way to see a city
*People in small towns love to wave at you as you pass them on their porches
*I can never EVER be a foot model - even if I wanted to
*I no longer have back aches
*I feel like I am being a good role model for my kids
*I am stronger than I thought I was
Tomorrow, Tod and I are going out to celebrate our (yes, he has been running for a year too!) one year anniversary. And, yes...we will keep running...every day.
Well, today I did it. I ran every day for one year. Every day. Running. For a whole year. I have to admit it is a little anti-climactic...until I looked back at what a year it has been.
I ran through pouring rain, 100 degree heat, 40 mph wind gusts, and a Christmas fog so thick that I almost got lost.
I ran through sinus infections, respiratory infections, massive hangovers, and two broken toes.
I ran through cities like Charlotte and Washington, DC. Mostly I ran through small towns like, Gatlinburg, TN, Warsaw, KY, Morganton, NC, Rayville, LA, Hilton Head Island, SC, and Nokomis, FL.
I fell once - pretty bad. I was chased by barking dogs. I was almost hit by a car and have learned NEVER run in the neighborhood on Garage Sale Day!
I have also learned a lot on my runs. Not only about myself but about my surroundings. Here is what I have learned...
*I love my Brooks running shoes
*The serious dog walkers are out at 5:30am
*Running is a great way to see a city
*People in small towns love to wave at you as you pass them on their porches
*I can never EVER be a foot model - even if I wanted to
*I no longer have back aches
*I feel like I am being a good role model for my kids
*I am stronger than I thought I was
Tomorrow, Tod and I are going out to celebrate our (yes, he has been running for a year too!) one year anniversary. And, yes...we will keep running...every day.
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