First day of school...

We started a new school year today. I'm sure most of you have already gone through this. If you haven't I'm sure you are going to go through it soon. The excitement level varies, I'm sure, with every child, but I was struck at how my own children have changed through the years.

I called up to wake up my oldest child first. His room is closest to mine and I called him on my way to wake up the others. He's 14 now. He's a Freshman in high school. It's a big year for him. He mumbled something after I called him a couple of times and I thought he might be awake. I moved on.

Middle child isn't that difficult. I call to him and he answers. He sits up in bed. I'm pretty sure I see him lay back down out of the corner of my eye before I walk by, but I'm re-insured by his exuberance (compared to the other one) and I move on to the next child.

Youngest child is easy. I gently say her name. I whisper "first day of school" into her sweet tiny ear and she gasps before she opens her eyes. As her eyes pop open she smiles and says "I can't believe it's time for first grade!" She continues as she stands up on the bed, "I'm so excited about the first day of school! I love school! I can't wait to see my teacher!" She hops on the bed. "Mama, get my stripey dress and my pink flip flops! You have to spray my hair. Mama, I can't believe school starts to day. Mama, I'm soooo excited about first grade!" She follows me back down to the kitchen and never stops her monologue.

On the way we call to the Middle Child. "I'm up." is the reply and he seems to be in the process. His legs are on the side of his bed and he is contemplating his shorts.

Next stop is the Oldest... "Wake up!" No answer. "Wake UPPPP!" Nothing. "Mama, do you need me to go jump on him? I'll get him up. I can't believe he's not excited. I'm excited. I can't wait to see my teacher. I can't wait to see my friends. Are you sure you don't want me to--" I interrupt, "WAKE UP! DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE! DON'T YOU MAKE US LATE ON THE FIRST DAY BACK!"

Youngest is quiet long enough after my outburst that I hear a thud-a -thump-thud-thump from the upstairs room. This usually means he has emerged from bed or he has fallen out one or the other. I hear him trudge down the stairs to brush his teeth and I am reassured that, whatever the case, he will survive.

We make it to school on time; earlier than I had imagined possible. They all leave me to go to their class rooms. One more year off to a typical start. I have my pictures to prove it to all my friends. I got all three there and they even smiled for a picture.

On the way home I got to thinking about their individual reactions today. It occurred to me that the oldest, the one that had been doing it the longest, was the hardest to get excited this morning. My middle child was reluctant, but he didn't take much prodding to get up and dressed. The youngest was excited. She was ready. She was eager. She hadn't discovered that it isn't cool to be excited about school. She still posed for pictures and hugged her teachers. She was on fire for school. Summer vacation didn't steal her joy. It didn't lure her away from her excitement about school.

Well, this got me to thinking about my own spiritual life (and other peoples spiritual lives). When I got saved I was ON FIRE for Jesus. Much like my youngest was excited about school. I read my Bible every day. I bought a Teen Devos book and read that every day. I studied my Sunday School lesson. I spent time with God in prayer every night and most mornings. I was excited about my new life as a Child of Christ.

Years have passed and as I look back I can see years that I have spent that I was less enthusiastic. Christianity seemed to me like the upper grades seem to my older kids. I wasn't bouncing out of bed on Sunday morning. I went from attending every other Sunday to not attending at all. I went on a spiritual summer vacation...I lost my enthusiasm for Jesus. I was still saved but I had let the world steal my excitement during my break from my church. It was the same with my kids. They all love school but they had let the summer break steal their excitement too. 

It took years for me to get back into a church family after I lost the excitement. Thankfully I have found my way back. The thing is, with the church comes the excitement. Just like when my kids got to school today and they saw all their friends, they came home with stories of their day and what everyone had been up to. I leave church and I am on fire again; just like I was when I was younger. The people encourage me. The people nurture my faith. The pastor leads me. God speaks to me when I am there. I feel his presence. 

Sure, I feel Him in my life other times, but I'm more in tune with Him when I have surrounded myself with people that know Him and crave His presence. I'm more confident to share His good news with people when I have been reaffirmed and reassured in a regular meeting with other believers. 

I guess what I'm saying is don't grow tired of your education in Christ. Remember that first grade feeling, remember that new believer feeling. Remember how you wanted to shout to the rooftops that you were a saved believer in the one true Christ. Keep going to regular meetings with other believers to reaffirm your faith. Keep the joy in your heart. Jesus loves you.... What do you have to be sad about?

 "Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity."

1 Timothy 4:12

Thanks to VBS

We start Vacation Bible School tomorrow night. It's a big deal. Maybe it's just a big deal in the south, but since that's all I've ever known, it's a BIG deal. I'm teaching the 4,5, and 6 year olds. I'm positive that they are going to have questions that stump me. I'm sure that they're probably going to teach me a lot more than I can teach them. They're still in that innocent, almost untouched, child of God stage. They're sweet but they are extremely curious.

Bible schools, like just about everything else, have gotten much more extravagant than they used to be. It's all fun. It brings in more kids. The more extravagant that your VBS is the more children that will attend. "Did you hear that (fill in the blank) Church is having a bouncy slide on Tuesday? Did you hear that every kid gets a free toy and a t-shirt?" 

Some of the bigger churches are even more extravagant... if that's possible. And that's fine. If it brings children to God I am all for it. I can't help but worry that the message of God gets lost in all of the extravagance. Are the children really seeing the saving grace of God beneath the Bouncy House and the Pizza Hut nights? I truly pray that they are.

We didn't have anything like that when I was little. I guess it doesn't matter if it's extravagant or simple. If the church members that lead it are like minded in the teachings of Christ then God is going to show up and He will move those children in the way He wants them to be. 

I was pondering all of this tonight. I was hanging my paper parrots and lanterns and stapling palm trees to the wall tonight and I couldn't help but to reflect back to the Bible schools of my youth. They were simple but they were effective. We had fun and we learned about Jesus.

We didn't go on many big trips when I was little. We had a big family and vacations were expensive. Most of my summer days were spent outside. It was hot outside. We rode bikes, built forts, worked in the gardens. Two or three days a week (on a good week) we drove 20 minutes to the pool that we were members at and we swam. Vacation Bible School was a break in the summer monotony. I looked forward to it. It was always in the morning, 8 or 8:30. It lasted until just before lunch. It was the break in my summer where I saw a lot of my school friends. It was exciting.

The schedule was always the same for all the years I was a part of Bible School. We had group assembly. We lined up outside the church. If you were lucky you got picked to hold one of the flags or the Bible. If not, you followed behind the lucky ones and marched into your class's designated pew. We pledged the American Flag, the Christian flag, and the Bible. We prayed together. We sang songs. We had a mission story. We prayed again. We were dismissed to our classrooms. 

Our teachers taught us memory verses, gave us gold stars for bringing our bibles, taught us bible stories, and let us do crafts. We went to the fellowship hall for cheap cream filled cookies and red or purple kool-aid. The older ladies of the church always served the snack and you could always convince one of them to give you extra cookies or Cheetos. We had outside time and, there, we played "Duck Duck Goose" and "Drop the Handkerchief" and the ever popular "Red Rover". It was simple, but it was fun (it was also insanely competitive).

When our parents picked us up we were hot, tired, and hungry. We had to practice our memory verses so that we could get a star the next day for reciting it back to our teacher. Five stars meant we got a prize on Friday. Friday was our fun day, we had games and usually balloons, sometimes water guns. It was fun. It wasn't fancy or high tech. It was full of love and dedicated Christian adults (mostly women) who gave up their time and money to teach children about Jesus.

The VBS that I'm privileged to teach this year is also simple. It's just like the ones I grew up going to. There are a few dedicated teachers that put time and effort into teaching children about the love of Jesus. We don't have huge light and sound shows, we don't have bouncy house fun night. We have fun, fellowship, and we will teach your child about Jesus. 

I was saved at Vacation Bible School when I was 9 years old. I will never forget how happy I was that day. Those wonderful teachers and the pastor at Beulah Baptist Church led me to Christ. Bible school is important. As I prayed for our week with other workers tonight I couldn't help but remember that day that I walked down to my pastor at Bible school. I was so excited to tell my parents when they picked me up. I wanted to tell the world about my new salvation. I was a new person, a saved person, thanks to Bible School.

Now, as I strive to teach the children that are in my class this week, I will remember every sweet lady that taught me as a child. I appreciate your sacrifice now. I know you had a hundred things to do, but, you put it all aside to come to the church and teach me about Jesus. Thank you. Thank you.... And thank God for Vacation Bible School.

"Then Jesus said, "Leave the children alone and don't keep them from coming to Me, because the Kingdom of Heaven is made up of people like this."

Matthew 19:14 HCSB 

 

Til August, Peanut Place.

We went shopping yesterday. My mother, my sister, and I have been making these shopping trips for about 7 years now. We always shop a little bit, eat lunch together, shop a little bit more and then we go home. We've always had at least one child with us. 

Yesterday was bitter sweet. It was the last trip that we'll have til probably next summer with a kid in tow. My sister's youngest starts school this year and she was the last one. But yesterday we had three, because it's summertime. It was our first trip with more than one child in several months. My mother made several comments about how sad it was that all of our kids would be in school next year.

See the Halos?

It started out great. The kids were so happy to see each other. They all went to the playground in the mall and I got a lot of shopping done. Then as I'm checking out my phone starts ringing. Not wanting to be rude I silence it and carry on my conversation with the clerk that's checking my purchases. It rings again. It's my mother. I apologize and answer and before I can get a hello out I hear..."Nikki get her!!! Heather?! Where are you??" It was a panic filled question like I had dropped my daughter off with her and high tailed it to another state. I reassured her I was almost finished and that I would meet her at the car. 

Bags in hand, I got to the car and the kids are all strapped in. They're playing gadgets and watching a cartoon...you can almost see their halos. My sister and mother looked a little worn around the edges. They had survived. At this point I kinda hate I missed all of the fun. We discuss our lunch choices and majority wins so we go to "The Peanut Restaurant."

The Peanut Restaurant has been a popular choice with the youngest females in our party for a couple of years now. My nephew has been in school so he didn't grow to love it as the younger two have. We pull into the parking lot and a look of panic hits his face. "I hate this place. I hate peanuts. I hate country!" It was the worst thing that has happened to him in a while. The girls try to persuade him but he has none of it. Finally with a stern threat from his mother he gets out of the car, but he's not happy.... and he definitely isn't eating a peanut.

We get them all pinned one of those big long booths. Drinks and menus and crayons are distributed. We're just about settled when the one on the very back (mine of course) has to go to the bathroom. Of course she does. What is it about kids and public restrooms? My sweet daughter always has to see every bathroom in every restaurant we patron. She's also a stiff critic. I swear she's gonna be a health inspector one day. She walks in and says "Oooh this one's nice." Or "ewww they need to clean this one." So I should expect this sudden urge to go but it sneaks up on me every time. 

My wonderful sister volunteers to go, so we all get up, let them out and then back in and finally we get settled to eat. The waitress brings our food, she forgets my mother's honey mustard (which also happens every single time... she needs a bottle for her purse). The kids are sucking down sprites like they haven't had drinks in months. My sister and mother and I eat as fast as we can, like animals at a feeding trough because we know that one of the children is going to lose it eventually and we want to at least eat half of the meal that we have to pay for. 

We get done. We get boxes for the chicken strips that none of the children ate and we wait patiently for our check. Patiently we wait for a minute. Then we panic. Where is she? Why hasn't she brought our check? These kids aren't going to make it much longer. What in the world is she doing?? My mother gives her the stare. It's an old teacher look. I honestly don't even think that my mother realizes that she's doing it. It is highly effective though. Server sees the stare and hurries back with the tickets. We pay and we get the heck out of dodge. 

We try a couple more stores but at this point we have lost all control of the children. They're climbing on clothes racks; Making faces in the dressing room mirrors; Bouncing on the little couches that they put out in front of the dressing rooms. We have three choices: punish them and risk being reported to DCS, ignore them and let them run wild and risk getting asked to leave the store, or call it a day and herd them all back to the car. We go with option 3 and pack them in for the last time.

On the way back to my car, (as one kid screams because her shoe fell off) my sister looks at me and I know exactly what she's thinking. This is our last trip with kids. Only it's not bittersweet anymore. It's hard earned and well fought for. We have earned this. See you in August shopping mall!!!

The Princess and the Splinter

We're having fun tonight. The kids are in the pool. The parents and grandparents are watching from the porch. The kids are planning on spending the night with said grandparents, giving the parents a much needed night on their own. Everything was going perfectly..... until.... Emily got a splinter. (DUM DUM DOOOOMMMMM) 

Let me start at the beginning.....Emily got up at 7:30 this morning and she had to clean her room. After she cleaned her room she had to help empty the dishwasher, after she emptied the dishwasher she ate lunch; after lunch she went swimming; after swimming for 3 hours she stayed at Gran's and played with her cousins. After playing with her cousins for 3 hours she ate supper. After eating she decided to swim again. After swimming for another 2 hours she.........got..........a.........splinter.

This was no simple splinter. It was the worst splinter of every splinter ever imaginable. This splinter couldn't have entered her delicate foot at a more inopportune time. See? Princess Emily was EXHAUSTED! It had been a most harrowing day for a six-year-old girl. There was no caffeine and there was no nap. There was only a long day and a  ginormous (not really) splinter.

She lost it. I don't blame her. She begged for a grown up to remove the splinter but it was SOOO ENORMOUS that whenever we got a good look at it, it just disappeared. Grownups couldn't ever catch it. It was a really sneaky splinter. 

So now she sits... in her daddy's recliner. She couldn't stay at Gran's. The pain was too much to bear. She's watching Frozen and waiting to fall asleep. She has the affected limb propped up to minimize pain/swelling. She's agreed to let me catch the sneaky splinter when she snoozes. She's super cute about it all. Even if I do wish that she would have spent the night at her grandmother's house. Basically, a teeny, microscopic, piece of wood or glass just ruined my sassy girl's day.

This splinter got me to thinking. How many days have I, or my husband, made it through a hard day at work or taking care of kids only to stumble on a splinter? How many days to I let a dirty dish left on the table (when the sink is a mere six feet further) or something, become my splinter? How many days is my better half just happy to walk into his loving home only to find a big ole splinter waiting for him (me)? I don't want to be his splinter. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be mine either. 

I know there are some days that we're not going to be able to control getting on each others nerves. It happens in every family. But I'm going to think about little miss priss and the splinter that stopped the world next time I am fuming about some little thing that really doesn't matter. I'm going to try not to let life's splinters ruin my day. 

They Taught Me About Jesus

I haven't written in a while. Truthfully, I've been woefully uninspired. Each time I start to write on this site, and back out because of a lack of inspiration, the blogger saves that post as a draft. Sometimes my drafts are a few words-- sometimes a few good paragraphs-- but each time they don't amount to enough to please me, much less my rag tag audience.

I've always been an over-achiever. I've always wanted to please. I guess being #3 girl before the #1 boy in the family line-up makes you want to always shine. I did shine, very much so (in my opinion) in my youth. I was in plays, honor choirs, had straight a's, was gifted, had a very high ACT score, was a class officer and on the student council. I shined so stinking bright.... but none of that mattered. Yes my parents appreciated it. They were proud. They loved me. They hoped to see great things for me. They will tell you that they have seen great things from me. They just didn't see them in the way they believed that they would when they looked at their #3 bundle of  joy.

They never expected me to become pregnant out of wedlock, to marry at 17, to deliver their first grandchild at 18, their second at 20, and divorce at 21. They never expected me to find love in a different state and remarry at 24, move to Alabama, and have their third grandchild at 26. They never looked at their sweet little third daughter and expected any of that.  They didn't sit through my performances and expect anything out of me. 

They taught me. They taught me to be good. They taught me to be smart. They taught me to think for myself. They taught me to fight for what I loved. They taught me to realize when it was time to walk away. They taught me that I needed to be able to provide for myself. They taught me that education was important. They are the reason that I had a career to fall back on after my first marriage fell apart. They taught me to think for myself. They taught me about Jesus. They took me to church and they taught me how to worship. Of all the things that my parents taught me, and they were great teachers, this was the most important.

Without Jesus I wouldn't have made it past 17. If I hadn't had Jesus then, I would probably have aborted my baby or given him up for adoption. I would have broken up with his father. I would NEVER have forgiven myself. In my attempts for self preservation I would have taken a life. I would have put myself above all else. I would have disappointed myself. I would have turned to drugs and alcohol and I would have hit rock bottom. But, thankfully,  my parents taught me about Jesus. 

Without Jesus, and if I had married and had those babies, I would have tried to save my first marriage.... but i wouldn't have tried as hard. I wouldn't have been as hard pressed to make it work had I not had anyone holding me to the vows we took that day. I would have looked forward to the day that I could have dissolved our union. I would have looked forward to a life of multiple partners and a life of freedom from society's boundaries. I would have never hit rock bottom after my many attempts to avoid divorce, and have asked Jesus to lead me to a man that would follow Him with me. I would have never have found Jason.  Thankfully, my parents taught me about Jesus.

My parents took me to church. My parents made me sit up straight and pay attention. My parents made me wear scratchy dresses and uncomfortable shoes. My parents fought with me and three other children and still got us there on time on Sunday mornings. My parents made me go to Sunday school and Bible School and made me memorize my assigned verses. My parents led me to Jesus. 

So many things come up on Sundays. Seems to me like more and more things happen on the weekend nowadays than when i was a kid. Maybe it's the same amount; maybe I just didn't notice. Or, Maybe I would have had plenty of other things to do-- had my Mama and Daddy not seen fit to have me in church. I thank God every day that they saw fit. I thank God for Christian parents.

Train up a child in the way he should go, 

And when he is old he will not depart from it.

 - Proverbs 22:6 -

Concerning the Author

I'm torn.

Life as a "Mommy Blogger" might be "just fine." But somehow I want more.... I'm drawn to be the political blogger, the religious blogger, the family blogger and the comedic blogger. I just don't know which blogger I want to be right now.

So I choose to be ALL bloggers. You don't know what you will get with me. I'm like that in real life too for those of you that know me.

Which brings to mind the fact that, not all of you know me. Not all of you know me. I'm a stranger. So let me tell you a thing or two about me.... (see below)

I'm Heddy (aka Heather). I've had that nickname as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl I stayed with my Granny a lot. Granny was my mother's mother. She lived in an apartment adjacent to our house. I could tap on my bedroom wall and she would tap back anytime I needed her. We had our own form of Morse Code.

When I wasn't tapping on my wall I was at her house. She kept her fridge stocked with soda's and candy bars. She kept her bread box stocked with bacon cheddar fries, cheeze-n-crackers and more candy bars. We never wanted for junk-food when we were at granny's house. This is probably the reason I can be a Curvy Girl Blogger as well.

Am  I still confused about my identity? You would think that by now I would know who I am. Maybe I'm a healthcare blogger.... no.... I've been out of that for a while. I don't feel like i should alienate my self with the 'mommy blog' title. I just don't know yet what describes me.

I am an almost 32 year old mother of three blogger. You can do the math. My oldest is almost 14 years old. He's an angel. Maybe I could be the teenage mother success story blogger. I had my second  child two years later... Maybe that makes me the "I'm on the fast track to life blogger." My third child is a feisty curly headed product of my second marriage. She keeps me on my toes and she WILL be the cause of ALL my gray hairs. Maybe that makes me a mommy daughter blogger, or try for second love blogger. I could also review netflix selections for a blog, or maybe just write about how I longed for a vacation home.

But that doesn't really tell who I am either. That tells the mommy blog followers who I am. I am also a registered nurse. I worked hard for that title despite the fact that my marriage was falling apart at the time. I'm a stay at home mom now. I worked hard for that title too. It's an achievement in my opinion. I found a husband who could support my ambitions to be able to stay at home and raise my kids. I know at any moment I can go back to work. I also know that, if the opportunity presents itself I can run for office. I can go back to school, I can teach school, I can do WHATEVER I want to do right now. I graciously thank my husband for that and I'm not ashamed of being grateful.

First and Foremost I am a Christian, I'm opinionated, talented, creative, honest, intelligent, hard working, faithful, fair.  All of that is by the grace of God. I'm also a civil rights advocate living in the middle of a civil rights battleground. I hope that I am fair minded and thoughtful when it comes to political issues. I am staunchly Libertarian as long as being Libertarian doesn't mean that I have to staunchly be anything. I am strongly opinionated in my beliefs whether you like them or not. I will agree with you as long as you successfully prove to me that you are right. I am not afraid to admit when I am wrong as long as I have been proven to be wrong.

I'm new to the blog-o-sphere but I can guarantee you that I will talk about my family. I will talk about my religion. I promise to talk about my political beliefs. I also promise to talk about any social/ethical/economic issues that come to mind. I'm not promising to be your favorite blog, but i promise that I will try.

I am me and only me and I hope that's enough for you.