I love it when my husband tells me he's read my blog. You know, without me even telling him to. ;) Yesterday's conversation with him began with him telling me that he had indeed read my blog (cue the applause in my head), but then ended with him telling me that he thought it was kind of harsh (and the LP playing said appause makes that screeching/scratching sound when the needle is not so delicately removed and the record stops). Ouch. Huh?
I feel like my mothering style is schizophrenic at best. I teeter back and forth between breaking my arm patting myself on the back for volunteering at school and making homemade Valentines with Jamie to beating myself up for giving her coke with breakfast and having terribly incomplete baby books marking the girls' milestones from birth to age 5. Can you relate? I hear so many times, "Pick your battles with your children," and for the most part, I feel like I do a good job. But then I stumble across a blog about a mother with seven children who homeschools them all, makes homemade bread, and only buys organic produce (if she doesn't grow it herself in her garden that all seven children help her with). I become exhausted just reading about it. Mouth gaping wide open, I turn the computer off and wonder how my lil' chilluns are EVAH gonna make it with a momma like me.
Well, lucky for them they have a dad that goes above and beyond the call of duty. If yesterday's post left you thinking that I'm doing all this parenting stuff by myself, you are sadly mistaken. My husband often jokes that I don't know how good I've got it, to which I reply, "Uh, yeah I DO. I dated the planet before we met. I know what's out there. Why do you think I waited 28 years to get married???" I don't know if this kind of sarcastic comeback is exactly what he had in mind if he was fishing for a compliment, but he knows he's appreciated. I tell him all the time.
And then there's the saving grace that I pray for my kids all the time. I call down all the powers from heaven most every day in carline to help me be able to cope with whatever the red-head has been holding in all day, only to release it on me in the comfort and safety of the minivan. I pray for strength (both physical and emotional) to be able to care for my sweet Anna as she gets older, and heavier, all the while reataining her 18 month old mindset. I pray that despite my faults and shortcomings, that somehow, somehow, I will do something right and instill in them love and compassion for others, self respect, and respect for God. And then like in the movies, the skies part, and my prayers are answered.
Jamie came home from school the other day and began telling me about her day. She said that the substitute teacher they had that day suggested that the children break up into partners to read to each other as the school day came to a close. A little boy in her classroom (whom she has talked about before) began asking different kids if they would like to be his reading partner. (Okay, here's some background info: This little boy would be what an adult would call an "outcast." He's just a bit too quirky for the status quo and unfortunately is excluded by others for being what Jamie describes as "weird." ) Anyway, the little boy asks student after student to read with him and each child he asks says no. Jamie then tells me, "So I just walk up to him and say, 'Charlie,* would you like to read with me?' " I asked what he did then and she says, "He just kinda jumped back a little bit, kinda shocked, and shook his head yes. My friends were all looking at me like I was weird, but I didn't care." I almost cried.
"Of all things you have ever done, Jamie Ruth, I am most proud of this one thing. You may not realize it now, but you have made a difference in this little boy's life. This is what God wants us to do: love each other and take care of each other. Did it make you feel good to be nice to Charlie*?" She nodded. "I bet it made God feel good too. Come here and give me a hug!" And just like that, all that "coke for breakfast" and incomplete baby books didn't even matter anymore. Light had conquered darkness and my ability as a mother was not in question anymore. At least not for the rest of the afternoon. ;)
And then yesterday rolls around and she tells me, "Mom, Erin totally stole my idea." "How so?" I replied. "Well, yesterday, she just went up to Charlie* first thing and asked him if he wanted to read with her." "That's great, honey! Now because what you have done, others want to include him too. Isn't that great?" "Yeah, I guess. But I did it first." LOL! I guess we'll still need to work on humility, but thank GOD, I must be doing something right! Happy Thursday, peeps!
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Time for ME
I hate this idea of motherhood being all about self sacrifice. And could I SOUND any more self-centered??? Well, maybe I am. I sure as heck don't feel self centered most days when I'm playing chauffeur to my precious gals, forking out big bucks for violin lessons, or being so sleep deprived, but still managing to function well enough to make it to the fridge to get a little red-headed baby a drink when she's sick. Or change a diaper. Or guide a sleep walking child back to their bed. Again.
But that's what we DO, right? We are good mommas and we put our little ones' needs and wants ahead of our own. But at what price? Where is that proverbial line in the sand where the sacrificing mom of the year turns into our personal "own worst enemy?" Almost 11 years and counting, and I'm still having trouble figuring this one out.
As a new mother, my "mommy guilt" came on rather quickly. Sure, the newness of having such a sweet bundle of joy to feed in the middle of the night (every two hours, sigh) got me through for a while. And frankly, I got a kick out of being "the one she needed" by breastfeeding. But at 7 weeks old, I dropped that precious bundle off at day care without a tear and drove like a bat out of Hades back to my j-o-b. With mommy guilt. Not because I was leaving her, but because I was happy to do so and get back to something that was just for me. I blamed it on the fact that I had waited so long to have kids and tried to convince myself that in time, my feelings would change. But they never really did.
Chuck, I think, always wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom. We would talk about it right after Anna was born and plan that "when things got a little better financially," I would consider the idea. Emphasis on the word, consider. ;) Life had other plans, though. After only 13 months of motherhood, Anna began having seizures and multiple health problems that required me to quit my job and stay home. I did NOT handle it well.
Years later, another kid in tow, and after many shed tears, I became okay with my lot in life: SAHM, housewife, martyr. Yep. Martyr. "One who makes a great sacrifice for the sake of a principle." Notice how similar the word martyr is to mother. Don't ALL mothers make great sacrifices for the sake of their children? (Well, not all mothers. But that's a post for another day.) Seriously, we sacrifice and go to work so our kids can have a private school education or to afford the extracurriculars. We sacrifice and stay home to keep them from having to be the "latch-key" kids we were when we were growing up. We sacrifice our wardrobes so that they can have one. We sacrifice our gym membership for their intramural soccer season. We sacrifice "must see t.v." and watch recorded "Barney" episodes for the umpteenth time. We sacrifice pedicures for art lessons and date nights with our hubbies for slumber parties. And if you sit there and tell me that all of that is perfectly okay with you and you wouldn't have it any other way... well, I both applaud you and feel sympathy for you all at the same time.
Motherhood is but a season, dear sisters. By all means, cherish it. Embrace it. Give your children your best. Too quickly we will be reminiscing about our little ones in a far better light than things actually were. ;) Unless you are like me and are the mother of a handicapped child who will grow to be a handicapped adult and need your constant mothering at home until, I don't know, forever... your reign as mother hen will come to an end and another role and season of life will emerge. Who are we besides mothers and caregivers?
As I get closer to my 40th birthday, I barely recognize the reflection peering back at me in the looking glass. I understand that youth, like mothering small children, does not last forever. But what I see in the mirror is someone who has been neglected. And not just her physical appearance. Where is the light in the eyes? Where is the "get up and go?" I'm reminded of Rosie the Robot... you know, the maid from "The Jetsons?" (Totally dating myself, here.) A worker, for sure, but lifeless. Robotic. Monotone. Most days I'm simply running on autopilot, getting things done. Sacrificing for the good and welfare of the family. But again, at what cost?
Remember the last time you rode an airplane? What did the flight attendant say? "In the event that the oxygen masks drop, if you are traveling with small children, first place the mask on yourself and then assist your children." Cuz momma ain't gonna be any help to her offspring if she's passed out from lack of O2, mmmkay? And the population at large accepts this as good common sense. So why do we have problems relating this to life? What is the "oxygen" that you are depriving yourself of, all the while fumbling and gasping to get your children's masks on?
While talking to my good friend Jaimee the other day, she reminded me (as she always does) to take time for myself. "Promise me, Linds, that you'll do something just for you once a week, okay?" At first this idea seemed so foreign to me. Something just for me, huh? What? When? So then I decided to reward my 5 lb weight loss with a pedicure. Whilst the callouses were being sloughed off, that dang mommy guilt reared her ugly head. "Really, Lindsey? A pedicure in January? Nobody is gonna even see those toes. Shouldn't you be mopping the floors at home, anyway? And you could've put that $25 to something a little more useful, don'tcha think?!?" Mommy guilt is my nemesis. Hate her.
So then I began a little dialogue with myself as the massage chair worked it's magic on my rhomboids and I politely told mommy guilt to shut-the-heck-up. I'm worth a whole lot more than $25, and I would be seeing my toes, thankyouverymuch, and just so we were clear... that particular shade of turquoise would make me smile every time I looked down and caught a glimpse at how outrageous my little piggies looked. Bam! Take THAT. Putting mommy guilt in her place like a BOSS. LOL!
"Me time" doesn't have to include spending money, either. There have been days reeking of PMS, with all the rights and privileges therein, where I have declared a "do-nothing" day. After dropping the kids off at school, I have been known to pop an Advil or two and crawl back into my memory foam mattress and snooze until 2:oo p.m. Once again, I sacrificed the laundry pile and a spattered cook-top, but we were really no worse for the wear. And no one was killed in a PMS rage, so I consider that day a success. :)
I see more books downloaded to my iPad in my future. A little more window shopping at antique stores, and a little more yoga and fitness... because I did a lot more of those things before I was a wife and mother (except the books were actually paper back then, gasp!) and those things make me happy. And how does that old saying go? "If momma ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy." No truer words, friends. Put on your oxygen mask first, and then attend to your children. And be sure to wait until the pilot turns the seat belt sign off before walking about the cabin. ;) Enjoy your flight!
But that's what we DO, right? We are good mommas and we put our little ones' needs and wants ahead of our own. But at what price? Where is that proverbial line in the sand where the sacrificing mom of the year turns into our personal "own worst enemy?" Almost 11 years and counting, and I'm still having trouble figuring this one out.
As a new mother, my "mommy guilt" came on rather quickly. Sure, the newness of having such a sweet bundle of joy to feed in the middle of the night (every two hours, sigh) got me through for a while. And frankly, I got a kick out of being "the one she needed" by breastfeeding. But at 7 weeks old, I dropped that precious bundle off at day care without a tear and drove like a bat out of Hades back to my j-o-b. With mommy guilt. Not because I was leaving her, but because I was happy to do so and get back to something that was just for me. I blamed it on the fact that I had waited so long to have kids and tried to convince myself that in time, my feelings would change. But they never really did.
Chuck, I think, always wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom. We would talk about it right after Anna was born and plan that "when things got a little better financially," I would consider the idea. Emphasis on the word, consider. ;) Life had other plans, though. After only 13 months of motherhood, Anna began having seizures and multiple health problems that required me to quit my job and stay home. I did NOT handle it well.
Years later, another kid in tow, and after many shed tears, I became okay with my lot in life: SAHM, housewife, martyr. Yep. Martyr. "One who makes a great sacrifice for the sake of a principle." Notice how similar the word martyr is to mother. Don't ALL mothers make great sacrifices for the sake of their children? (Well, not all mothers. But that's a post for another day.) Seriously, we sacrifice and go to work so our kids can have a private school education or to afford the extracurriculars. We sacrifice and stay home to keep them from having to be the "latch-key" kids we were when we were growing up. We sacrifice our wardrobes so that they can have one. We sacrifice our gym membership for their intramural soccer season. We sacrifice "must see t.v." and watch recorded "Barney" episodes for the umpteenth time. We sacrifice pedicures for art lessons and date nights with our hubbies for slumber parties. And if you sit there and tell me that all of that is perfectly okay with you and you wouldn't have it any other way... well, I both applaud you and feel sympathy for you all at the same time.
Motherhood is but a season, dear sisters. By all means, cherish it. Embrace it. Give your children your best. Too quickly we will be reminiscing about our little ones in a far better light than things actually were. ;) Unless you are like me and are the mother of a handicapped child who will grow to be a handicapped adult and need your constant mothering at home until, I don't know, forever... your reign as mother hen will come to an end and another role and season of life will emerge. Who are we besides mothers and caregivers?
As I get closer to my 40th birthday, I barely recognize the reflection peering back at me in the looking glass. I understand that youth, like mothering small children, does not last forever. But what I see in the mirror is someone who has been neglected. And not just her physical appearance. Where is the light in the eyes? Where is the "get up and go?" I'm reminded of Rosie the Robot... you know, the maid from "The Jetsons?" (Totally dating myself, here.) A worker, for sure, but lifeless. Robotic. Monotone. Most days I'm simply running on autopilot, getting things done. Sacrificing for the good and welfare of the family. But again, at what cost?
Remember the last time you rode an airplane? What did the flight attendant say? "In the event that the oxygen masks drop, if you are traveling with small children, first place the mask on yourself and then assist your children." Cuz momma ain't gonna be any help to her offspring if she's passed out from lack of O2, mmmkay? And the population at large accepts this as good common sense. So why do we have problems relating this to life? What is the "oxygen" that you are depriving yourself of, all the while fumbling and gasping to get your children's masks on?
While talking to my good friend Jaimee the other day, she reminded me (as she always does) to take time for myself. "Promise me, Linds, that you'll do something just for you once a week, okay?" At first this idea seemed so foreign to me. Something just for me, huh? What? When? So then I decided to reward my 5 lb weight loss with a pedicure. Whilst the callouses were being sloughed off, that dang mommy guilt reared her ugly head. "Really, Lindsey? A pedicure in January? Nobody is gonna even see those toes. Shouldn't you be mopping the floors at home, anyway? And you could've put that $25 to something a little more useful, don'tcha think?!?" Mommy guilt is my nemesis. Hate her.
So then I began a little dialogue with myself as the massage chair worked it's magic on my rhomboids and I politely told mommy guilt to shut-the-heck-up. I'm worth a whole lot more than $25, and I would be seeing my toes, thankyouverymuch, and just so we were clear... that particular shade of turquoise would make me smile every time I looked down and caught a glimpse at how outrageous my little piggies looked. Bam! Take THAT. Putting mommy guilt in her place like a BOSS. LOL!
"Me time" doesn't have to include spending money, either. There have been days reeking of PMS, with all the rights and privileges therein, where I have declared a "do-nothing" day. After dropping the kids off at school, I have been known to pop an Advil or two and crawl back into my memory foam mattress and snooze until 2:oo p.m. Once again, I sacrificed the laundry pile and a spattered cook-top, but we were really no worse for the wear. And no one was killed in a PMS rage, so I consider that day a success. :)
I see more books downloaded to my iPad in my future. A little more window shopping at antique stores, and a little more yoga and fitness... because I did a lot more of those things before I was a wife and mother (except the books were actually paper back then, gasp!) and those things make me happy. And how does that old saying go? "If momma ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy." No truer words, friends. Put on your oxygen mask first, and then attend to your children. And be sure to wait until the pilot turns the seat belt sign off before walking about the cabin. ;) Enjoy your flight!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Music Therapy Thursday...More Rain!
Who else besides me is SICK of this rainy weather? It's enough to make one a little stir crazy, no? Well girls, for today's music therapy I chose a song that always makes me happy, no matter how much the weather is affecting my mood. How apropos that it's about rain... :D
The Weather Girls can flat out SING, peeps, as this live performance shows. The male dancers in their sequined tap pants are a little creepy, but it makes me smile all the more. What I love most is watching every.single. age. group in the audience rock out to this "single woman's" anthem... even the dudes. Gotta love the French. They embrace life like no one else!
So enjoy today's music therapy and boogie on down with our French friends across the pond. I'm feeling better already....
Monday, January 23, 2012
Cleaning Green, Compliments of Pinterest!
Here is a picture of me doing three things that I love: using craft supplies, re-purposing something into something else useful, and cleaning "green." I have been using a brand of cleaners from a company called Shaklee for about a year now and I really do love them. But being the economically savvy consumer I am, I just couldn't justify throwing out all the scrubbing bubbles I had left over from a Costco trip, so I have been trying to use it all up. Now that all the scrubbing bubbles are gone, I've been needing something with a little scouring power to clean my shower and tub alongside my Shaklee stuff and found the answer in Pinterest, of course.
Basically, the pin suggested to put baking soda in a parmesan cheese shaker to use as a dispenser for cleaning. When I went to Wal-Mart this morning and found said Parmesan cheese shaker, it was $1.98!!! And only about 2 inches tall... and GLASS. Umm... no. I remembered I had saved some Crystal Light containers to craft with, so I took out my crop-a-dile (mack-daddy hole punch) and used the smaller size hole punch to randomly perforate the lid. One small box of baking soda filled the container 3/4ths of the way full. Now I have a container for each bathroom at just about FIFTY CENTS a piece. Lurve....
And there she sits on the side of the tub waiting patiently for me to quit blogging and get to scrubbing. Ahhh, Pinterest. How do I love thee?! Have you ever made anything from your pin boards on Pinterest? This is just the first of many for me, I'm sure. Happy Monday, y'all! Now, pardon me while I go scrub the tub......Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Sighing and Sassiness and "Swats," Oh My!
I've got a cheeky 7 year old girl that resides in my home and constantly tries my patience. Although she is very naive in comparison to her peers, she already has the mouth and the attitude of a teenager. Oy vey! And I'm painfully aware that it's MY fault.
I would consider myself the "heavy" in my household... you know, the "bad cop" in the "good cop/ bad cop" scenario. Don't get me wrong, though. Chuck means business and does discipline the girls, but I am the parent that Jamie says she's "scared of." Why? Because I'm the one handing out the corporal punishment 99.9% of the time, that's why. Yeah. Fun times.
Don't start reprimanding me for spanking my children, please. "To spank or not to spank" is not up for discussion, thankyouverymuch. ;) I've got no problem with any parent spanking a child's bottom when said child needs to be brought back into the fold of little people who know how to act appropriately. And say what you want about how awful it is that my child is afraid of me. It is my personal opinion that young people in general should be a lot MORE fearful of their parents... but those arguments aren't what's on the table today.What IS on the table is my inability to hand out those "swats" appropriately and effectively. Lemmee explain...
Like any mother who loves her children, I would rather do anything but hurt them. And because I am "the heavy," it gets really old being the enforcer all the time. Unfortunately, this leads to a lot more "talk" and a lot less "action," if ya know what I mean. Well, this momma is tired of talking. Wouldn't it be wonderful if your kids did things the first time without having to be hounded and sans whining? Yeah. I could go for some of that, myself.
My downfall is that I've been trying too hard to keep from spanking. That sounds a little strange, doesn't it? In an effort to keep from paddling my child's rear end, I exhaust myself with words, which leads to yelling (both ways), which inevitably leads to me wearing her little bottom out anyway. I've read every child-rearing book I could get my hands on, and they all say the same thing: do not spank in anger. Epic parenting FAIL. I only spank when I'm angry, how about you? I know I shouldn't, but I do. Why is it that I think that I know more than child psychologists and behaviorists? Why do I think that, somehow, the rules of behavior do not apply to me and my situation? Cuz I'm a stubborn old goat with a tender heart for my beloved, though mouthy, offspring. Sigh.
Well, instead of trying to reinvent the wheel or put my own twist on another's ideas, I've decided to just do what the experts say and do it consistently. After telling my seven year old what is unacceptable behavior (eye rolling, crossed arms, huffing, stomping, slamming doors, a sassy tone, or any other disrespectful gesture), the first offense is not another warning, but one swift swat on the butt. I've told her that I won't be angry when I do it (and I haven't been), but that the kind of behavior that has been shown previously has been unacceptable and will not be tolerated from here on out. How has it worked?
Well, Sunday she got two spanks before we ever even got to church. But the rest of the day she was great. To be honest, she was even more helpful and considerate afterwards than she's been in a long time. Yay! Of course, because it's still a new concept, she gets taken off guard when I pop her rear after she's sassed me... but she's catching on and it's getting better. And that's all I could hope for.
I walked in on her yesterday watching an episode of "Super Nanny" where Jo (the nanny) was explaining to the mother on the show that making your children mind makes you a good mother. Jamie asked me how I learned to be a mother. I told her that it was something that you learned as you go, but I was always trying to do better. She asked me if it was hard and I said that it was, but that it was something I enjoyed. I didn't know what to say, really, because she took me by surprise. But maybe one day, when she has kids of her own and she's dealing out her own "swats," she'll remember our talk and maybe, just maybe, she'll appreciate the discipline she received as a child. I hope so. Until then, I'm going to try to stay consistent and swat when necessary. Oh yeah, and maybe call my mom to apologize for the sassy lass I used to be. ;)
I would consider myself the "heavy" in my household... you know, the "bad cop" in the "good cop/ bad cop" scenario. Don't get me wrong, though. Chuck means business and does discipline the girls, but I am the parent that Jamie says she's "scared of." Why? Because I'm the one handing out the corporal punishment 99.9% of the time, that's why. Yeah. Fun times.
Don't start reprimanding me for spanking my children, please. "To spank or not to spank" is not up for discussion, thankyouverymuch. ;) I've got no problem with any parent spanking a child's bottom when said child needs to be brought back into the fold of little people who know how to act appropriately. And say what you want about how awful it is that my child is afraid of me. It is my personal opinion that young people in general should be a lot MORE fearful of their parents... but those arguments aren't what's on the table today.What IS on the table is my inability to hand out those "swats" appropriately and effectively. Lemmee explain...
Like any mother who loves her children, I would rather do anything but hurt them. And because I am "the heavy," it gets really old being the enforcer all the time. Unfortunately, this leads to a lot more "talk" and a lot less "action," if ya know what I mean. Well, this momma is tired of talking. Wouldn't it be wonderful if your kids did things the first time without having to be hounded and sans whining? Yeah. I could go for some of that, myself.
My downfall is that I've been trying too hard to keep from spanking. That sounds a little strange, doesn't it? In an effort to keep from paddling my child's rear end, I exhaust myself with words, which leads to yelling (both ways), which inevitably leads to me wearing her little bottom out anyway. I've read every child-rearing book I could get my hands on, and they all say the same thing: do not spank in anger. Epic parenting FAIL. I only spank when I'm angry, how about you? I know I shouldn't, but I do. Why is it that I think that I know more than child psychologists and behaviorists? Why do I think that, somehow, the rules of behavior do not apply to me and my situation? Cuz I'm a stubborn old goat with a tender heart for my beloved, though mouthy, offspring. Sigh.
Well, instead of trying to reinvent the wheel or put my own twist on another's ideas, I've decided to just do what the experts say and do it consistently. After telling my seven year old what is unacceptable behavior (eye rolling, crossed arms, huffing, stomping, slamming doors, a sassy tone, or any other disrespectful gesture), the first offense is not another warning, but one swift swat on the butt. I've told her that I won't be angry when I do it (and I haven't been), but that the kind of behavior that has been shown previously has been unacceptable and will not be tolerated from here on out. How has it worked?
Well, Sunday she got two spanks before we ever even got to church. But the rest of the day she was great. To be honest, she was even more helpful and considerate afterwards than she's been in a long time. Yay! Of course, because it's still a new concept, she gets taken off guard when I pop her rear after she's sassed me... but she's catching on and it's getting better. And that's all I could hope for.
I walked in on her yesterday watching an episode of "Super Nanny" where Jo (the nanny) was explaining to the mother on the show that making your children mind makes you a good mother. Jamie asked me how I learned to be a mother. I told her that it was something that you learned as you go, but I was always trying to do better. She asked me if it was hard and I said that it was, but that it was something I enjoyed. I didn't know what to say, really, because she took me by surprise. But maybe one day, when she has kids of her own and she's dealing out her own "swats," she'll remember our talk and maybe, just maybe, she'll appreciate the discipline she received as a child. I hope so. Until then, I'm going to try to stay consistent and swat when necessary. Oh yeah, and maybe call my mom to apologize for the sassy lass I used to be. ;)
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Music Therapy Thursday... Sweet Home Alabama
This week, the Alabama Crimson Tide brought the National Football Championship title back to the great state of Alabama. Although I live in a house that roots for their state rival (Chuck went to Auburn University), we were all glad to see the Tide bring that crystal trophy back "home" (Auburn was the BCS champion last year). Alabama sure does love it's football. ;) But what I love about Alabama has more to do with the people and the way of life we have here in the "heart of Dixie," and not so much about championship titles and football games. I realize this puts me in the minority against some of my die-hard, football-enthused friends and relatives. Truth be told, I wouldn't even consider myself a "fan" (because I'm not the least bit fan-atical) and that alone makes me un-Alabamian if nothing else does! LOL!
Am I proud that Alabama has positive recognition for stellar sports programs at the collegiate level? You betcha! Am I proud to be associated with a state that prides itself not just on "tradition," but a winning one, to boot? Heck yeah! It gives me hope that people can somehow forget the fact that our state was once better known for setting fires to churches, rioting over bus seats, and the insensitivity, intolerance and the ignorance that was shown by Alabamians to fellow, darker skinned Alabamians. We've come a long way, baby.
Today I hope people see the Auburn students and faculty reaching out and helping the people of Tuscaloosa after last year's devastating tornado in April. I hope people see the faculty and students of Alabama banding together for their "Tide for Toomer's" campaign, showing their support for Auburn and their disdain for the poisoning of the beautiful live oaks by a radical Alabama fan. I guess "haters gonna hate," as the saying goes. But I believe that the majority of us are good people, with kind and caring hearts, no matter what side of the football field we're sitting on.
I love the fact that people drive down the roadways and throw their hands up in the air to wave to complete and total strangers. I love it that the bag-boy at the grocery store calls me "ma'am." I love it that you can find a church or place of worship on almost every street corner because we Alabamians are a God-fearing ("fear," here, means "respecting") bunch of folks. I love the fact that all celebrations and catastrophies of life require a covered dish of something delicious delivered to your home by friends and neighbors. I love the fact that people will pull over on the side of the road, at anytime of the day, and wait for a funeral procession to pass.
I'm proud that Alabama is home to a fantastic space and rocket program just minutes from me in Huntsville. I'm thankful for an exceptional children's hospital that has been indispensable for our family, located in Birmingham. And though the sugar-like sand at the gulf is (to me, anyway) the most beautiful beach you'll ever see, you can't beat the scenic view atop Cheaha Mountain or the rolling hills found all over the state. Trees are so green here and the air is, dare I say it... sweet. :) Perhaps that's how the lyrics of Lynard Skynard's rocking anthem for our state came to be.
Yep, I'm proud to be a southern gal hailing from the great state of Alabama. There were a few years where I tried to shake my hillbilly roots, but you know what they say: You can take the girl outta the country, but you can't take the country outta the girl! This version of "Sweet Home Alabama" is fantastic because it's a great live performance and I just dig those clothes circa 1975. The guitar solo at 4:42 ain't to shabby either. Enjoy today's music therapy. And y'all come back, now, ya' hear?? ;)
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
My New Breakfast Fave
Ever get into a rut with what you are eating on a day-to-day basis? I know I do. And trying to adhere to a healthier meal plan can just throw another cog into that wheel. But yesterday, the skies parted and I've been introduced to something that is super yummy so I thought I'd share it with the rest of you.
I subscribe to Peak313 Fitness on Facebook and she was asking everyone yesterday what we were all eating for breakfast and then shared what she was having. I tried her suggestion and I'm hooked! It's super simple and super yummy too: a toasted whole wheat English muffin with peanut butter, banana slices and just a drizzle of honey (I'm loving me some honey these days, BTW)! AND the whole breakfast is only 5 Weight Watchers points and it's really filling.
So stop whatever it is that you're doing and go and make yourself a little piece of heaven on a plate. "You're welcome" in advance. LOL! Thanks, Clare at Peak313 Fitness , for great inspiration as always. If you are looking for some health and fitness motivation with a Christian influence, check her out!
I subscribe to Peak313 Fitness on Facebook and she was asking everyone yesterday what we were all eating for breakfast and then shared what she was having. I tried her suggestion and I'm hooked! It's super simple and super yummy too: a toasted whole wheat English muffin with peanut butter, banana slices and just a drizzle of honey (I'm loving me some honey these days, BTW)! AND the whole breakfast is only 5 Weight Watchers points and it's really filling.
So stop whatever it is that you're doing and go and make yourself a little piece of heaven on a plate. "You're welcome" in advance. LOL! Thanks, Clare at Peak313 Fitness , for great inspiration as always. If you are looking for some health and fitness motivation with a Christian influence, check her out!
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