Driving Miss Daisy

We own a nursery and landscaping business. I was supposed to work at the hospital last night but the census had gone down a little and I was called off. I was planning to do some mundane housekeeping chores here at home and was happily doing said chores when my mother-in-law (who lives on the nursery property) called and invited us to dinner. I hate to cook and always jump at the chance to eat at my mother-in-law's. Jimmy was already at the "farm" and Austin and I planned to go down around 6 o'clock. I decided around 4 o'clock to just go on down and enjoy the pretty weather walking around the farm.

Once we got there, Austin wanted to give me a ride in the "Gator". He spends a lot of time there with his Grandma when I'm working, so he is quite adept at being the little farm boy. The first thing we did was check in on the new kittens in the barn. I was instantly sorry that I'd neglected to bring my camera. The kittens are about 5 weeks old and Austin has been very patiently waiting for the ok to pick one of them up. Yesterday I told him he could hold them. I don't know if there is anything more precious than watching a child  cuddling a 5 week old kitten under their chin.. He was mesmerized. I was charmed beyond all reason. He was so tender with the little thing. If ever I have missed the perfect photograph, this was it. I must return with my camera and capture this on film.

After playing with the kittens for a while he began begging me to let him take me for a ride on the gator. I have heard him mention lately that he has been driving the gator around the farm, but I thought that meant that his Dad had allowed him to sit on his lap and "steer". Oh no! He's learned to DRIVE the gator. He took great delight in buzzing me up and down between tree rows dodging the irrigation towers. He did an excellent job!! He was so proud of himself. I began to think about how we take so many things in life for granted. How to all of us "grown-ups" driving is just a necessary thing we do. But to a child of 7 it's the ultimate daring thing to do. The look on that child's face as he maintained complete and utter control over that machine and his mother's heart was priceless. And, if I'd had my camera with me as all good mother's should, you'd know exactly what I'm talking about.

Spontaneous Combustion

I am a living volcano!  Eighteen hours out of twenty-four  I'm an active volcano. When I was younger and would hear women talking about this lovely experience I would think that they were over exaggerating. I know better now.

 

Do you remember the flames behind the wizard's curtain in The Wizard of Oz? Have you ever seen the flames flare when your squirt charcoal lighter on charcoal in the grill? Have you ever watched the mushroom of fire when a bomb is dropped? Well, welcome to my reality! This heat starts somewhere in the very center of my body and just explodes in all directions. I can't get out of clothes quick enough when it happens. I swear, sometimes I think you could roast hot dogs and marshmallows on me.

 

I used to be a cold blooded animal. When everyone around me was comfortable, I was freezing. I have more flannel pj's and nightgowns than the law should allow. I am a collector of blankets, polar fleece, and afghans. In  my past life I loved being wrapped up in my flannel and fleece in front of a raging fire in the fireplace. How I miss those days.

 

There are  many questions that I want to ask God when I get to heaven. One of them will be; "Why did you design women the way you did?"  I will be eternally grateful that I was allowed to  experience the miracle of having a new life growing inside of me. Giving birth, even though it's excruciatingly painful is an experience I wouldn't have wanted to miss. Having a period every month was not something I counted among the high points of being female. PMS, even though I didn't suffer it's horror like many women I know, was never a fun thing. But, I've gotta tell you these hot flashes are like hell on earth!

 

I am awakened about 12 times a night feeling like someone has set me on fire. I can't even remember the last time I slept through the night. This is very strange for me because I used to be one of those people that slept like the dead. NOTHING could wake me up. It's miserable! After a few minutes of waking up hotter than a firecracker, I get a chill because my skin is so wet from the hot flash. I cover up, settle back down to sleep and usually within a half an hour I'm wideawake again as I throw back the covers and begin stripping. Sometimes my outsides have goose bumps and I feel cold at the same time that my insides feel like molten lava.

 

I wear a scrub jacket at work over my scrub top because I need all the pockets for all the stuff I have to have handy while I  work. Some nights I feel like I'm going to rub blisters on my arms from the friction of putting my jacket off and on. I feel sweaty all the time. There were some nights this winter  when the only relief I could get was to rush outside in the freezing winter cold and just stand there for a few minutes.

 

This is sooooo NOT ME!!  It's getting on my nerves and driving everyone around me crazy. My husband and I used to always disagree about having the windows down in the car when the weather was chilly. I'm married to Grizzly Adams' long lost brother. He's very much an outdoorsman. He has always wanted a little brisk air in the car while he's driving. I'm freezing him to death!!!

 

This has got to end soon! It's making me an insane person.

For All Mothers Everywhere

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here."

Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.

And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football , hockey or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our are thoughts for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...

And mature mothers learning to let go.

For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.

Single mothers and married mothers..

Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all. (Author Unknown)

Happy Mother's Day

I love this picture, so I just had to use it here 'cause he's so stinkin' cute!!

Among my most treasured posessions are the handcrafted gifts made for me over the years by my children. As they grew older and the handcrafted gifts ceased coming, I loved the things that they would write to me inside of greeting cards. When Austin came into my life I began to look forward to the little things he would make me in day care and school. Now that he is a big first grader and can read and write the gifts begin to take on even more value to me. There is nothing more precious than a child's sentiments written in their own handwriting and misspelled words make them more the dearer to me.

Mother's Day is Sunday and I have just received my gift from Austin. I worked very late last night so Daddy got him on the bus this morning. He left me a little note trail to find my gift. On the table in the family room he left me a note directing me to go to a different table in the house to find my present. Once there I found the cutest handmade card you ever saw with flowers all over it, wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. But my most favorite gift was a piece of paper with M O T H E R printed down the left side. He made an acronym. I'm going to duplicate it here with the spelling he used:

My Mommy is nice

Old Mommy but nice and funey

Truly funey

Happy mothers day

Ecentric Mom!!

Red flowers are her favorite

I wouldn't take a million dollars for this work of art (he colored diagonal rainbow colors all across it).

And to think that I didn't think he had noticed that I was older than his friend's mothers!!! I asked him when he got home about the word "ecentric". "Austin, do you know what this word means?" "Yes, Mommy, it means crazy!" And then he laughed. And I laughed. Then we had the nicest cuddle and hug.

Mother's don't need gifts on Mother's Day. The  four wonderful people that made me a mother are the greatest gifts in the world.