Hiding In My Closet Crying

Prom has come and gone, and with no incidents thank goodness.

It’s a huge weight off knowing our kids all made it home safe and sound.

With the school year fastly wrapping up, we now have to start preparing ourselves for graduation.

I don’t think it matters much if you have a senior graduating or a kindergartener graduating, they’re still your baby and it’s still harder than any of us would like to admit.

When we aren’t hiding in our closet crying over our babies growing up and rational thoughts return we should all take advantage of the opportunity to celebrate that comes with a graduation.

Now is a chance to pat yourself on the back for a job well done; you and your graduate have made it through another year.

Plus, end of the year field trips are only going to keep us busy for so long. Family and friends are much better than that.

I want to share a recipe that’s good for any graduation party; be it in the backyard or a rented banquet hall.

Green Grape Dessert Salad

You’re going to need:

4 pounds of seedless green grapes
1 (8 oz) package of cream cheese
1 (8 oz) container of sour cream
1/2 cup of white sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
4 oz chopped pecans
2 tablespoons of brown sugar

First things first, you want to wash and dry the grapes.

Now, in a large bowl you want to mix together the cream cheese, the sour cream, the sugar, and the vanilla. 

Once you have that mixed together add in your grapes and stir till everything is evenly distributed.

Next you just sprinkle in the brown sugar and the pecans and mix it a little more.

I like to serve mine in a bowl other than what I mixed it together in, but you don’t have to. 

If you do want to serve it in another dish now is the time to move it over and then let it chill for a little while before serving.

So, there you have it; an easy but crowd pleaseing recipe that still allows us time to cry in the closet.

Happy Birthday Boy 1.

Six years ago this month I was laying in a hospital bed praying with everything in me to just make it through another day, another week of what had been a horribly scary pregnancy.

Things changed on April 10th. That day, my doctor decided things were getting a little too risky and that although still 4 weeks early it was better for everyone to go ahead and deliver.

After many tears, phone calls, prayers, and two units of blood I was taken to the O.R. In what seems like only minutes later, I was kissing the head of my sweet baby boy.

He was here.

He had all ten fingers and all ten toes.

He was early, but for the most he was okay, just the expected breathing complications.

He was taken to the NICU where he could be given oxygen and the monitored care he needed. We expected an NICU length of at least 3 weeks, but even as a newborn he had his own way of doing things. After a terrifying Code Blue call, and an emergency baptism with our family priest things started getting better. We left the NICU after only 17 days with a note from the doctor declaring him to be “a healthy, hard-headed handful”.

I’m happy to say in the last six years that doctor’s report hasn’t changed much. My sweet boy is very much still healthy, hard-headed, and man is he a handful.

    In honor of this new milestone, I’d like to share one of his favorite things to make.

It’s “semi-homemade” because sometimes that’s just how we roll in the non Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart world.

        Dirt Cake

You’re going to need
1/3 cup butter or margarine
1 8oz container of Cool Whip
1 package of Oreo cookies
2 packages of vanilla pudding mix
1 8oz container of cream cheese
1 cup powered sugar
3.5 cups of milk

Start by creaming the butter, cream cheese, and powered sugar together.

Now, in a separate bowl whisk the pudding mix, milk, and cool whip together.

Once that’s whisked together well, combine it with the cream cheese mixture.

This is his  favorite part: Crush the Oreos. It doesnt matter if you do it in a bowl with a cup, or  in a ziplock bag with the a rolling pin just as long as you get them crushed up.

Now all that’s left to do is put it together.

You can either mix the cookies in with the cream cheese pudding mix and serve it in a pail like my kid likes to do, or if you want to be a little “smancy” as he says it, you can make layers in a glass cake pan or serving bowl. To do that you just rotate a layer of crushed cookie and a layer of cream cheese pudding mix, and repeat.

This dessert you have to store in the refrigerator.

So, here’s to my baby's latest trip around the sun. Here’s to the doctors and the nurses that keep things calm and have steady hands in times of crisis, and to the teachers that love my boy in spite of his hard-headed ways.

Happy Birthday baby, I love you to the moon and back!
  
Now, dig in! 

Have Some Chocolate With Me

Tomorrow would be my Momma's 72nd birthday. Would be. She passed away 11 years ago this past February.

My entire life, well as far back as I can remember, I have celebrated her birthday by laying a single red rose and a Hershey chocolate bar by her bed for when she woke up. I always wanted it to be the first "gift" she got that day, and my older brothers and sisters were always happy to help me make that happen.

As we grew up I eventually became able to do it all on my own. And, for the last 11 years I have quietly continued to celebrate her birthday by laying a single red rose on her headstone and sitting along side it enjoying a Hershey candy bar.

Tomorrow will be no different, but, tomorrow I'd like each of you to help me celebrate her by having a Hershey chocolate bar yourself.

Maybe you could you send me a pic of how you're enjoying it. Post it here, post it on Facebook, tweet it. maybe that will make the day a little easier.

I think she would like that.

Boy 1 Is Wondering...

So the other day, The Dad and I were spending some time with Boy 1.

We were headed to get some lunch when Boy 1 started to ask questions.

Questions are great.

I love that my kids ask questions because they want to know, or learn something.

What I don't love is the unknown of what said questions may be.

Being a parent is hard.

Anyways, back to the other day. So we are headed to lunch and the questions start.

It's the normal stuff. Woo Hoo!! Nothing to see here people; just a 5 year old boy asking his Momma and Dad "why" about a million times or to change the radio station, or if he can go here or there, and could we do this or that.

Then he asked...

Boy 1 "Dad, do humans make other humans?"

(so glad he asked The Dad)

The Dad "Well what do you think? Your Momma is a human and you came from your momma."

Boy 1 "DUH Dad!! I know Mommies make babies but do humans make other humans?!?"

The Dad "You ARE a human, Momma is a human, babies are human."

Boy 1 "Oh! Oh yeah I knew that."


Man, my kid is a genius ;)

She'll Need A Dress, My Listen To Your Mother Piece

Everyone knows now.  The phone hasn't stopped ringing, and knocks on the door keep coming.  I'm not in the mood for sympathy from others.  Maybe my lack of sleep is to blame, maybe I just don't want to hear it'll be ok, or feel someone else's arms around me.  My focus today is solely finding what my Momma will wear.

It's close to 11 now, and the funeral director has called (again) asking for the clothing, wondering what we have planned for her to wear.  This part should be easy, my mother always talked about what she wanted to be buried in.  I've known since I was 7 exactly what she wanted.

“When I die, you better put me in the best red dancing dress you can find. AND heels! I have to have heels on. I'll need to have my Charlie on and don't forget red panties"

My mother knew what my dad liked, and she wanted to go out still catching his eye and ready to dance the night away.

So why is this so hard?  Hell, it's February; finding a red dress should be easy.

It's 1, and if I don't go now I never will.  I gather my belongings, kiss my baby girl goodbye and head to the department store.  As I'm browsing the racks of dresses a happy little sales girl says "Can I help you find something? Are you looking for a dress for a valentine date? Have you seen these?"  Shit!  Now I know why I didn't want to do this; people, people asking questions, staring at you waiting for answers, filling the already awkward silence with even more questions.  I guess I have to acknowledge her but, what do I say? Clearing my throat I say, "I'm just looking, but thank you.  I'll let you know if I need anything."

Back to the racks I come across a dress.  It's satin, has tiny roses on the top, an empire waist, and spaghetti straps.  It also has a matching cardigan and since I've been directed by the funeral home her outfit must have sleeves this is perfect.  I make my way to the under wear department where I find red lace panties that perfectly match the dress. Onto shoes; without many options I settle for a pair of strappy red heels.

I make my way to the register and here is the sales girl I have been trying so hard to avoid.  "Did you find everything you need?" (GREAT more questions) "Yes" I say.  "What's the special occasion, Valentine's day?"  She's staring, waiting. God, why am I not a better liar?  "My mother passed away.  I'm buying her funeral clothes."   Silence...

Driving to the funeral home I feel a bit of relief.  I have one more thing done, one less thing to worry about.  In the parking lot I find myself clutching the dress as if it's the last piece of my mother I will ever hold.  How do I do this? How do I hand off of the outfit my mother will be buried in?  Why, at 19 years old am I even here?  This isn't fair.

As I hand over the clothing the director says "This is want you want her to wear?"  "Yes," I say.  "It is going to be open casket, and a traditional Catholic Mass right?" she says while looking at the stuff I've brought.”  Oh here, we won't need these shoes, or these panties; Honey we don't really dress them from head to toe" she continues.  "But," I mange to squeak out, "It's what she wanted.  It's what she always wanted.  She wants to meet my Dad again how she met him before; in a red dancing dress.  I have to make sure she gets this."

I have to make sure she gets this.  I need this.  I need to believe in this, as long as she gets this, she will be reunited with my dad how she wanted.  I will have done this one thing to prove I love her and she will know.  She will know that she is important and she is loved, by me.

I picked this one insignificant detail to focus on because it was easier than thinking about the only person I felt had ever loved me was gone.  The only person capable of loving me so wholly and unconditionally was gone.

Now what?  I'm only 19.

I'm only 19 and now, I'm my own mother.

Listen To Your Mother, Why It Mattered To Me

Listen To Your Mother has come but I wouldn't say it's gone.

On Sunday April 29th I took the stage at Walton Arts Center with 13 beautiful and talented women.

All of us are at different points in our lives, all of us with different stories, all of us are new to this whole LTYM thing, and all of us are now closer than ever before.

For me LTYM was about honoring my mother one more time. It was a chance to feel like I had done something right. Like I hadn't failed her.

You see, my piece, She'll Need a Dress, was me telling the story of finding the clothing of which to bury her in. The circumstances in life leading up to such event have made who I am today. As well as a little uneasy with and unprepared for the emotions that came with telling my story.

When my Momma passed away I was only 19, newly 19 at that. It was a fairly regular Sunday. Except that my Momma was tired. Very tired. I had asked her numerous times if she felt ok, or needed to go to the doctor. Each time I woke her or questioned her she assured me everything was fine, she was just tired.

As the day went on and turned into evening I woke her up for dinner. She didn't want to eat, so I again asked if she wanted to go to the doctor. Again she said she was fine just really tired.

I started to watch a movie and time got away from me. Before I knew it, it was after 9 p.m. I went to wake my Momma up one more time, and in that instant my life changed forever. I opened her bedroom door and said "Momma" she didn't respond so I said it louder, still nothing. I went to shake her a tad and when I did I discovered her body was lifeless.

I screamed and I tried with everything in me to revive her. 911 was called and paramedics and police came from out of nowhere. I continued to try to revive her. Paramedics told me there was nothing else we could do but, I didn't want to believe them. I begged, and begged for them to bring my Momma back but, it was too late.

I have forever felt like I failed her. I didn't wake her in time. I didn't try hard enough to revive her. I always wonder if I had done just one more repetition if it would have mattered.

Listen To Your Mother gave me a moment in time to do it right. To honor the woman she was, and to honor her memory. Her legacy is all I have left of her and I wanted to do it justice.

As I took the stage last Sunday, the emotions started to take over. I realized about the time Stephanie said my name to the audience that I really might not be ready for this.

When I began to speak the tears started to fall. Lucky for me we had the greatest audience anyone could ask for. They opened their hearts to me as I not so eloquently poured out mine.

I gave them a tiny piece of me and they gave me pieces of their hearts in return.

Together we cried, we laughed, and we cried some more. Together.

For a moment in time all the Mommas in the world were holding me tight.

For a moment in time I didn't feel alone in my burdens.


(photographers courtsey of Megan Clemence Photography)

Will They Ever Learn

The Dad is at band practice.

The kiddos are all asleep.

I was going to clean up our kitchen and finish up some of the kids' chores...

WAS GOING TO

But, then I went to the fridge to pour myself a glass of tea.

This is what I found.

I probably don't need to tell you that I am not cleaning our kitchen, I am not finishing up some of the kids' chores. 

I am planning my next move. Hope they're hungry but, only expect a bite.

Listen To Your Mother, The Gift That Keeps On Giving

My thoughts on LTYM probably won't be completely written out or summed up for days but, I can assure you all that this is a gift that keeps on giving.

LTYM has given me a voice, courage, hope, strength, support, love, and friendship just to name a few.

Friendship might be the greatest gift of all.

During this process women from all different walks of life came together to support each other, and in doing that many friendships have bloomed.

Meet Heather Smith- Davis.

Heather is one of the kindest women I have ever met, and luckily, I now get to call her friend. Heather is a strong woman that wears many hats. She is a teacher, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a writer, a blogger, a storm watcher, weather radio listener, and a mother to, two beautiful little girls. She has guided me, taught me, hugged me, pushed me, wiped my tears, made me laugh to the point of nearly peeing my pants, and supported me. She does for others before thinking of herself, she is what a friend and a woman should be.

So, here's to Heather, the Minivan Momma, that's always willing to take another along for the ride!

Lazy Butts!

My children have reached a whole new level of laziness. 

Seriously! Instead of walking to the linen closet to grab a few rolls of toilet paper, Daughter 1 leaves this lovely message on the bathroom mirror. 

Ya know because that was easier...