Very Long Time, No Update

To make a long story short, for those who didn't already know ....

I will be doing ALL of my updates from MY OTHER JOURNAL from now on.

Please visit us at the link provided above.

Thanks!

Until my computer issues are resolved, I will be updating [rarely] in my old journal.

“Daily gratitudes and attitudes.” Linked in the upper left corner of this journal.

I apologize for the inconvenience.

So Long For Now...

One last message for a while.

I give up! Either I need a new modem or … something. I know nothing about the technical end of these things, and my poor DH knows even less than me, if that is possible. Yesterday, I was convinced that it was the phone jack, because I read an article saying that 56k modems should NOT be connected to a split jack. We have a three-way splitter for phone, fax and the computer. I plugged straight into the phone jack. Nothing. I had to jiggle the cord to get a dial tone, so I said, “I need a new cord!” I got a new cord…no change. So, I plugged in the splitter, and was at least able to get online, only to get knocked off after 4 minutes as usual. The mornings are always the worst. That would lead you to believe that it’s the outside box, because of the fallen dew in the morning. [?] The phone company did a test on the lines, and say they didn’t hear any noise, etc. Of course, I haven’t had a tech out to the house yet. So, believing it was the jack in the computer room, I hauled the whole blessed thing into the kitchen and hooked everything back up and plugged into the jack in here. I got knocked offline in 4 friggen minutes! Grrrrrrr! ::Big-Sigh:: Now I am about to disconnect everything all over again, and haul it back into the computer room. One last resort…I will take the computer to my parent’s house and check it up there. If I’m able to stay connected up there, I’ll know it has something to do with the lines here. [My mom is able to stay online, so there really isn’t any point in going that route.] I was a very happy camper last night, I was able to stay online for as long as 35 minutes! But that isn’t good enough for me. I can stay online, reading journals for hours at a time! Then again - -maybe this is a good thing. Honestly, I’ve been needing to prioritize. If I put as much energy into other things, a lot would get done. Maybe, my neck problems would even get better.

Until I get a new modem, or buy more RAM [AOL live-help says that I don‘t have enough RAM and that is causing the sudden issues.] Y’all won’t be hearing from me as much. I’ll be checking my mail and doing some light surfing, but that’s about it. I hope to be up and running again before the holidays. I hope to have a new digicam by then, too. Maybe by then, we’ll have lots to share with you all! Till then, we’ll miss all of you!

Y’all take care, and be good!

Connection Issues

I am still here.  I just can't stay here for very long at a time. Every time I sign on, I am booted offline after about 4 or 5 minutes. This was happening on occasion before hurricane Ivan, but since returning home, it's happened every singe time that I sign on. I've looked into every possible cause that I can think of, and everything checks out okay. I am getting to the point, I want to pick up my computer and throw it out of a window. lol!   If the problem is not soon resolved, I am going to shut down my AOL and my journal, permanently. I can't waste $23.90 a month. I don't really think it's necessarily an AOL issue, because I have the free version of Juno for backup and it does the same thing.   Anyway, I wanted to let you all know that I've been stopping by your journals, one at a time. I only have time to read one entry, and then when I start to leave a comment, I get booted. I have managed to hurry a few comments before getting knocked off, but for the most part, I haven't been so lucky. I've tried to answer e-mail and the same thing happens. It's very frustrating. So please don't think that I've just stopped visiting ... It's a "technical thang" :)  

I'll return If/When the problem is resolved.  

In other news:: Stephen saw his neurologist today and all is well, but we are upping his meds from 25 mg to 100 mg a day for his seizures. [I really hate that we have to do that]  

 Thank you for your patience. .... And PRAY for mine, would'ya?

Remembering Pensacola

I've tried to post this entry 7 times, but I am having connection problems since hurricane Ivan passed through.

I said weeks ago that I would post some of our beach pictures from our trip to Pensacola. If you've been keeping up, you know how hectic things have been around here.

Even so, I had to make time to put a few pictures together. I haven't been able to get Pensacola out of my mind. I can't even watch the news and see the destruction Ivan left behind on our beautiful gulf coast. I saw a few pictures of where we visited in July, and it doesn't even resemble the pictures in my memory. Not quite two months ago, Stephen ran up and down this beach. We played in the sand. Sand, just like sugar, so white and soft. Pensacola beach was so crowded with people; it made me nervous that Stephen can get lost in a crowd that size. We found Navarre beach [lower right photo] that was far away from the main attraction and although there was a light rain shower just before we got there, it didn't stop us from having a wonderful time. We wrote our names in the sand, and played like children. I can't remember the last time I felt so carefree with no worries. Navarre beach treated us with such kindness, and welcomed us with open arms. For a short while, my problems were washed out into the sea of forgetfulness. I tried to not let my mind wander back to our real life. Stephen is a happy child, but never as happy as he was there. The minute we returned to the street we live on, he broke out into tears. In his own way, he realized that it was back to reality. I remained quite, and tried to hold on to just a shred of the gulf coast that we left behind. We will return next summer. Perhaps the scars of Ivan will show. Many of the buildings will be replaced. But the beach and the ocean will forever remain the same to me. The gulf coast will be my friend who allows me to cast all of my burdens on her shoulders. For a few treasured days, she will wash the heaviness in my heart from me again.

Till next year, sweet Pensacola. My prayers are with you and yours.

Getting Ready For Ivan

You may find this hard to believe, but I just haven't been watching the news very much lately. I'm depressed enough as it is. My mother, on the other hand, watches enough of CNN to keep us all informed. Daddy watches FOX [their house is a war-zone, just based on that fact, if you know what I mean] My mom called me this morning and asked if I could take her to Wal-Mart. "Sure," I say, "I'll be there around noon." WHY didn't someone tell me it was going to be so bad? I haven't seen so many people in a panic at a Wal-Mart, since the Blizzard of 93! I wore cut off jeans and flip-flops. Big mistake! I got ran over, and bumped so many times, I am sore all over. I finally looked at the last person that got up too close on my backside with their shopping cart and I said, "If one more person runs over me, they won't have to worry about Ivan!" Then, I realized that she was way bigger than my little ole 5' 01" self. [gulp] She gave me a dirty look and backed away. [Thank-God!] My cousin, Sue was with us and I figured we could both take her if she was waiting for me outside.

When we first got there, I asked, "What's the deal? What are so many people doing at Wal-Mart on a Tuesday?" Mama looked at me like I was from another planet and said, "Why, Hurricane Ivan! Don'tcha ever watch the news?!?" “Well, no, mama. I figure you watch the news and worry enough for all of us.” We live 4 hours north of the gulf coast; we've never had to prepare for a hurricane. I'm still not gettin' it. But a little old man was kind enough to explain to me that this was a very dangerous hurricane and we're expected to get a lot of tornadoes and bad floods. Oh, great.

Mama and I were trying to squeeze our way down the canned meat and soup aisle when I overheard a man on his cell phone saying, “They are all out of batteries and matches, and running low on water, it’s gonna be bad!” You just don’t know how I have panic attacks when the weather is involved. Everyone in my family has an innate fear of tornadoes. When my mother was a little girl, they survived a terrible tornado that wiped out most of the town they were living in. Papaw was the pastor of the church and their house was just behind the church. Papaw ordered everyone out of the house, into the church. The house was crumbled to pieces, but the church was untouched. How’s that? I realize that tornadoes touch down and then go back up and scientifically, it could have been a coincidence, but I choose to believe it was a miracle, and I‘ll never believe otherwise. My Papaw was a very faithful servant to God. I guess it just wasn’t his time to go yet; he had too much work left to do on earth.

Okay, let me wrap this up. Stephen is waiting for my attention. I was in a little bit of a panic about batteries after I heard that man. We have tons of candles; I’m not worried about not having lights in the house, Stephen will be able to look at his books. But I am worried, should we lose power about Stephen not having a TV. He has a small black and white TV that uses D-size batteries. Sue found one pack of discarded off-brand D-size batteries on a shelf and grabbed them for me. I just checked and his TV needs nine, D-size batteries. How many are in the pack? Eight! Grrrrr … just our luck. LOL!

Really, I am hoping and praying that everyone is overreacting. I am praying that Ivan fizzles out before hitting the gulf coast. Let’s pray for everyone in the path of Ivan, and continue praying for those in Florida, who know too well, the destruction that is possible.

 

 

Going Back To My Roots (in more ways than one)

       ::photo above taken spring of 1995. Wasn't Stephen adorable? ::  

Just so I won't become a woe-is-me whiner, I will talk about my day at the salon to break the pity party I was having over the weekend.

  Ahhhh, how refreshing! I had forgotten how it can be. The smell of coffee, always ready. Fresh baked muffins. The hugs. The laughter. The tears. And ... I'm a little ashamed to admit, the town gossip. If you've ever seen "Steel Magnolias" you get the picture.  I spent the morning with my friend who I have known all my life, the one who inspired me to give up my dream of being a writer - - an artist (maybe I should be mad at her) and become a "hair - artist" instead.  In the 80's this woman had the most happening chain of salons in the Birmingham area.  She is now the proud owner of a brand new, 2 chair salon, just steps away from her home. It's the perfect setup, really. She sees her children off to school every morning, and is always there when the bus brings them home. If business is slow, she can go in the house and do some housework. Have a play-date with her husband. Start dinner. Whatever. The only bad part is, and this can be most irritating, customers will show up on Sundays when she is closed and just walk over to the house and knock on the door.  Her poor hubby can't walk around the house in his underwear for that reason. How sad that must make him.  Like me, she is too nice to tell them to come back during business hours. She stops whatever she is doing and goes out to the shop to do a haircut. I have worked for her, off and on for a long time now. I forgot to mention, I am going to start working with her again. Not doing hair very much, as I do NOT want a demanding cliental again. Getting out of the hair business is like getting out of the Mafia. Almost impossible! I haven't worked full time in a salon since Stephen was 2 and I STILL have clients calling me. I only do senior citizens for the most part. Mostly, just because I love and adore them so much. I feel, as a younger person, I owe them something.  I miss my grandparents terribly, and I feel close to them by being around the elderly.  (Sorry for rambling there) I am going to help her with her book work and orders, etc. It is something to help me get out of the house, and make a little money and be in the world again!  It won't be everyday, or even every week.  

Now to the second part of "going back to my roots." For the first time in almost 10 years, my hair is it's natural color again.  I can cancel my membership with Blondestar. I am a brunette again.  Well, okay ... we foiled in a few blonde chunks around my face. But only a few.  The darn digicam is broken, so I can't show any before and after shots. Actually, it took forever to find a picture of me without blonde hair. (I was also a bottle blonde in the mid 80's) So only for a few short years in the 90's, I was true to my hair color.  Just a hint for those wanting in stay in "style" -- brunette is HUGE this fall. Even natural blondes are going brunette. [I wouldn't advise that for everyone, as some people with fair complexions would look like death with dark hair. And for goodness sakes, I can't stress this enough:: GO TO A PROFESSIONAL for your haircolor needs, when you are making a change that drastic.]  Curls are making a big comeback. That will make the hubby happy. He's been saying for years, "But I like you hair when you just scrunch it and leave it curly." Speaking of which, he's not happy about the brunette thing. Or the length, just above my shoulders thing. But, if he says anything, I'll just pull out the old list of things I am not pleased with, add a few more to it just for good measure, and he'll let it go.    All in all, today was a good day. I feel [and look] like me again. Today was like therapy. I refuse to tell you the negative things. Yes, a little bad news has happened. But I refuse to obsess today about things I cannot change. But who knows what the next entry to this journal will bring?  

By the way, thanks for all of the kind words and emails after my last entry.  What would I do without friends?  My friend told me today while I was highlighting her hair, "Mia, you seem so much better with everything than you used to be. Your attitude is so healthy. You're smiling more than you are crying. You're staying positive. Have you been getting therapy? Are you on meds?"     

I simply stated::  

I have my AOL Journal. I really think this has made all the difference for me.  I mean that.

Just an update

Hello friends.  Just an update to let you all know we are still here.  Things have just been so, super-busy.  Late summer and early fall is my busiest time of year.  This is the time of year that Stephen has to go to all of his follow up appointments with his doctors. Naturally, my health appointments seem to fall on this time of year as well. The beginning of school year always has it's ups and downs.   Stephen has already missed a whole week of school because he caught a head and chest cold, which triggered asthma symptoms.  Last week, I caught his cold. His dad is coming down with it now. His dad and I have been really lucky up until now. This is the first time in about two years that we got a cold that was this bad. Bad enough to need bed rest with it. All week long, I've been catching myself falling asleep during the strangest times. Like, standing up, or folding laundry! I must be half dead. My doctor called with some of my test results and said that I am still anemic and she phoned in some supplements for me. If only I could remember to go to CVS to get them. I've been anemic for 3 years now and she isn't happy that I am not eating right, or doing anything right, health-wise. I've lost 7 pounds since last year. I "look" bad. I feel tired 24 hours a day.  

 I wasn't going to mention this, but I'll go ahead. We just got back a few hours ago from The Children's Hospital.  Stephen fell out of his bed at 4:00 this morning and started having seizures. This is the second time this summer he's had to go to the hospital by ambulance with seizures. June 2nd, three days before my parent's 50th anniversary party, he started having seizures at 6:30 AM.  The reason - - I had forgotten his meds two days in a row. I felt like the worst parent in the world. I went to Walmart and bought a pill box with the days of the week on it, to help me remember his meds.  No seizures at all since I solved that problem. This morning, while riding in the back of the ambulance with him, I told the paramedic that story and how I believe I'm going to have to up his dosage now because he has gained a little weight, I assume he has outgrown the dosage amount. Even the ER doctor, and the neurologist agreed with me. After we got home, Stephen didn't want to eat. Finally, about an hour later, he was hungry and when I was feeding him, I got his pill box to give him his meds and ... guess what I found? Friday's box was still full. Yeah, even with the daily reminder, I forgot yesterday's dose. That is the second time this summer that he has had seizures. The second time this summer, he's had to ride in an ambulance. The second time, he came to, scared and confused after having the seizures and had to spend several hours in the emergency room. Why? Because his mama is too stupid and absentminded to remember his meds!  It's a good thing I didn't become a nurse. I can't figure out if he fell out of bed because he was having seizures, or he had seizures because he fell out of the bed.  The poor thing was face down when I went in the room. His mouth was bleeding. I don't know if he bit is tongue from the seizure or the fall. I guess the order in which these things occurred are not important. But they are to me. He has a bruise above his eyebrow and one on his shoulder. Every bit of it comes down to one thing. I messed up. I've noticed that my memory is getting really bad. I mean, REALLY bad lately. I can't even remember simple words. How to spell simple words.  My telephone number. What day of the week it is. I've been tired a lot of the time. I feel depressed. Hopeless. Angry. Mostly at myself. I feel like the conscious part of me is outside myself, watching the forgetful me take over and no matter how hard I shake myself and yell, "wake up!" I keep fading away. My head hurts almost 24 hours a day. I guess I'm just tired and stressed. Like most parents.  

 Anyway, the important thing is, Stephen is fine now. He's had his medication and is watching Dora the Explorer and smiling big as always. He's so happy. I don't deserve the love that little boy gives me. One nice thing happened, though. He hugged me and said, "Mama" plain as day! Usually, he says, "umma." Slowly, his speech is improving. I know he understands much of what we say. That is something to build communication on.  

I'll try to update soon. I didn't even have time to sign on and vent like this, but I made time. We're in the middle of remodeling Stephen's bathroom, and that is also taking some extra time. One of those stop and go projects. We hope to have it finished soon.  We still have to buy a new tub and replace his sink with a pedestal sink. Then we'll finally be finished. Can't post pics of it. The camera was dropped and broken :(   

I am making journal rounds very slowly. If I haven't been to your journal in a while, you now know why.  I promise I'll be by as soon as I can. Just keep the coffee warm for me. :)

Sketchy

 
















I'm not quite sure why, but for the first time in about 23 years or so, I picked up a pencil and pad and started to sketch again today. I came very close to buying a sketch pad and other supplies the other day, but said, "Eh, I don't have time for drawing. Haven't had the desire in years. It'll pass." But tonight I was watching Stephen as he watched one of his favorite movies on HBO [Mrs. Doubtfire] and I was suddenly inspired to "sketch" him. He is so cute when he sits directly under the big TV and looks up at it that way, instead of sitting across the room from it like we do. And I swear, he smiled through the entire movie!

Although very rusty as you can see...I wondered why I stopped doing this years ago. At one time, I was actually pretty good at it. My brother is the real artist in the family, and as far as I know he hasn't painted in years either.  I guess, like me, he just got busy living life and stopped enjoying the little pleasures of life so much. I suppose we all do that as we get older. Life becomes so demanding.
I'm  thinking about picking up some art supplies and start enjoying the simple things again.
...Or, maybe it'll pass. :)

A Dozen Years...

So yesterday was our 12th wedding anniversary. 

Bittersweet milestone ...
My very, very personal life is one that I do not talk about much.
It's too complicated. My journal is an escape from my complicated life.
That being said, I'll speak of only one layer:  Our evening out last night.

Earlier in the week, I asked my mama if she would baby-sit Stephen for us so we could for the 1st time in at least two years celebrate our anniversary. This was the first year in a long time we even remembered, or chose to remember our anniversary. She agreed, as long as we could be back to pick him up by 7:00. Yeah, you heard me right, 7:00 PM. [That explains a lot!]

This was our 2nd date night since the middle of December! We had dinner at O'Charley's. We even beat the early-bird senior citizens to the restaurant! They started to arrive around 4:15. We had the usual conversation, it went something like this:
What are  you going to order?
Hm, dunno. You?
Dunno. I think I'll have the ribeye.
I think I'll have the grilled shrimp.
How's your steak?
Fine. How's your shrimp?
Fine.
[I sure wish she'd hurry with the check already, before we explode from this invigorating conversation! I mean, I just don't think I can take the excitement much longer!]
As I quietly chewed, I became fixated on a couple who were well into their 70's. They were seated behind Stephen's dad, so I had to strain my ears to hear their conversation. [yeah, I know. But I've always been nosy] So cute, they were. The man slowly guided the woman to their seat with his hand at the small of her back. He held her hand softly as she sat down. He then seated himself, adjusted his bifocals and started to look the menu over. They also asked one another what he/she was going to have. But there was a different tone. A tone of affection. I could see the man's face, but not the woman's. Her back was facing me and all I could see was her hair which had been freshly shampooed and set as most women of that age do once a week. I had a clear view of the gentleman. I admired the way he adored his wife. The way he looked at her with years of appreciation while giggling and discussing their grandchildren. They were not struggling for words, they were engaged in conversation. I found myself longing for what they have, but I was filled with disbelief that we'd ever reach a point that we would hold one other in that regard. I began to wonder, have they always been this way? Or is this something that comes after years of knowing hard times together, and overcoming those hard times together? That's got to be it. I pray to God that is true.

I heard Stephen's dad say, "What is it?" I shook my head and said, "Nothing. I was just admiring that couple behind you." I then decided to take a good friends advice and I started going  back in time and remembering the man I met all those years ago. Something had to cause a spark in the beginning. Is it still there?
What attracted you to your partner? For me, it was the ability he had in making me laugh. He made me laugh without effort. He still has a "Jim Carrey" sort of way of making me laugh, even when I don't want to.
After a while, I started saying things like, "Remember that time...." And before I knew it, we were laughing and talking. Then next thing we knew, it was time to pick Stephen up from my parent's house.

We brought him home. Bathed him, brushed his teeth and all of the other bedtime routine stuff. I played a computer game with him that he believes he is supposed to play every single night before going to bed.
After I told him good night, I closed the door and walked into the kitchen to make a glass of iced tea.  I heard the front door open and heard my husband of 12 years say, "It's a nice evening out. It's kind of cool, but nice. Do you want to come out here and sit on the porch with me?" I was planning on coming in here and surfing J-Land, but said, "Yeah, I'll be right there." He had 2 candles lit and a light blanket was waiting in my chair for me [I get cold easy]. We stayed on the porch and talked and laughed and then talked some more until 11:30. We blew out the candles, came back in the house and checked on Stephen one more time before going to bed. We looked down at him, and then at each other and smiled -- knowing, he is the best thing we've ever done together. Maybe someday we'll be like that couple. Maybe, we are on our way there right now....

Please Allow Me To Brag

Two entries in one day? Well, I just couldn't help myself. You can see why. I'm beaming! Stephen loves to participate in art and music. This is his first art project this year. Not too shabby, eh? Of course, someone helped him with the scissors and glue, but I've watched and they let the children pretty much guide themselves in art with hand over hand assistance when needed.

I am slowly replacing all of my home decor with Stephen's originals. This baby is going in a frame.

Let me ask you~What do you see?

Meanwhile you might enjoy visiting the VSA Arts OF Alabama where you can meet some of Birmingham's very special and talented artists. I can't believe that I am just now finding out about this! This month's featured artist has an interesting story behind her art. There will be an auction soon, but I don't know all of the details yet. If I heard correct, I believe you can participate online!  

This is a program I would like to have Stephen involved in someday.

Enjoy your weekend!

I see a man and woman, dancing. It looks like "the dip" to me.

Back To School

I am NOT ready for summer to be over. Yesterday was Stephen's 1st day back to school. I tossed and turned all night, Wednesday night. I woke up, sick with a tummy ache yesterday morning.

When Stephen was younger, it was easier to send him to school. The classrooms were smaller. The students were less judgmental, and more accepting. Next year, good Lord willing, he'll be in 6th grade! Gosh, time is zooming by too fast. He should actually be in the 6th this year, but we held him back in K-5. He's so small for his age. He doesn't look like he's almost 12 does he? He still wears a size 7.

Yesterday, we walked him to class. He went around the room and said, "hey!" to everyone, hugged them and patted them on the back. He then did it once more, just to make sure no one was left out. He made it back around to where I was, grabbed my hand and walked to the door and looked back at everyone as if to say, "Sure was good to see y'all again! See ya later!" Although I had been trying to prepare him for the last two weeks that it was almost time for school again, I don't think he was paying attention to what I was saying. I should have used the picsyms of "school" - "school bus"- etc. I think he would have understood me better if I had made it more simple for him to understand.

Enough of the over protective-mother stuff. ...Remember the first day of school? The smell? A smell of crayons, paint, and freshly sharpened pencils. The feeling of fall in the air. The ole butterflies in the tummy. I swear, I relived every memory yesterday morning. I saw a little girl standing outside her classroom with her mother and new teacher. The little girl's curly blonde hair was in a pony tail. She was wearing a pink jumpsuit and sandals, ...and she was crying. Oh, boy...I wanted to cry too when I saw that. From the conversation they were having, I could tell that she was new here and doesn't know anyone yet.

What else was so special about the beginning of a new school year? For me, it was getting a new pair of shoes! [Check out Stephen's new shoes in the photo! He also loves a new pair of shoes..just like his mama.] I've always been quite the shoe snob. I become emotionally attached to my shoes. Every pair has a story to tell. Yes...my shoes were always an important part of the school year. However, about the time I got the first scuff mark, I was beginning to hate school. Thank God, Stephen isn't like me in that department! He enjoys school, the more he goes. I'm the one who hates so much to let go. As hard as I try to "talk it up" I think he senses that I worry about him, and maybe that's why he took my hand and started to leave yesterday. He always watches my reaction to things. If I have negative vibes he picks up right away. I've learned something amazing about people who are nonverbal. They are far more sensitive than the rest of us. I believe it's because they have to rely on their senses more than we do. We all have that ability, but I don't think we listen to our instincts enough.

We survived the first day! My heart ached as I had to let go of his hand and walk out of the classroom. I found myself thinking of him and worrying thoughout the day. I held both LambChop puppets after I made his bed. Finally at five minutes till three, the bus brought him home, safe and sound. He looked down from the window as Miss Donna helped undo his seat belt and smiled that big smile at me! He hugged Miss Penny's neck before she helped him down the steps and then practically, jumped into my arms! He smelled like the peanut butter and banana sandwich I packed in his lunch, crayons and...some other school-funk I can't describe. He hurried over as fast as he could to his daddy for hugs and kisses. I could sense that he'd had a happy day, but he sure was happy to be home! He was happy to get on the bus this morning. He looked back and smiled till they were out of sight. ::sigh:: So here I am, not knowing what to do with myself. It's going to take a while for me to adapt! First, I need rest. Then I will look for part time work.

So that is all that is new. Vacation photos still to come. I'm so very behind in everything!

The Solved Mystery

Only three online friends have my physical address.  My J-Land friends-Freee and SloMo. Plus, my very first online pal who I've been friends with for...umm, about 7 years or so. She lives in Massachusetts, and she was the only one I hadn't asked yet. I did say that it would be just like her to do this.  LambChop was mailed from New Hampshire, which is where 'Dee' finally found one after putting off sleep, determined to find a new Lamby for Stephen one night. 

She and I call each other, "sis" (among other nicknames, lol!) Two things brought Deirdre and I together those years ago. Her daughter, Serena, and my son, Stephen. They both have Cerebral Palsy. We met on an AOL message board where we had both been seeking for answers. We didn't really find answers, for there aren't any easy answers when you have a child suffering from any form of disability. But what we did find, was so valuable! Friendship. A friendship that started out as two desperate mothers, searching for answers, but instead, found another mother, miles away who knew her pain.  Friends and family sympathize, and hurt for us and our children, but can't really understand on the same level because they haven't felt it to the core. That is why we call each other, sis. When we say, "I know your pain," we really know, to the deepest level of that pain.

We have even more in common. We are both hair stylists. We've had more than just the pains and joys of motherhood stories to share. We've also shared the pain and joys of the salon life. Putting home and family above salon. That was hard to do, but something else that we coached each other through. 

We have shared so many cyber hugs, tears and laughter. Oh, and recipes! How could I forget, recipes! We've watched each other's children grow up, online. We've shared every birthday party picture.  I know she's only an e-mail away at all times :)

{{{Thanks, Dee!}}} Stephen is still treating his new lamby very nice. He hasn't tried to flush her down the toilet once! ....Yet. But she's witnessed the abuse of Lamby #1 and like the toys on "Toy Story," she knows her time is coming. God Bless her!  He now carries both of them everywhere he goes!

To The Person(s) Responsible For This...

Finally...A moment to update. I've been trying like crazy to catch up with all of you. Everyone has been so busy with the first year anniversary celebration while we've been gone! Several of my favorite journals made editor's pick this week! Many of my faves won awards! YAY! Can it get any better?

Why...yes it can! There is an angel among us, journalers! There are many, many angels in J-land, as far as I am concerned. But one in particular (I have NO idea, who) sent Stephen an amazing gift, which arrived the day after our beach trip.

Stephen and I were visiting my mama last week when Stephen's daddy called and said that Stephen had a package on the front porch when he got here and asked if I wanted him to open it or wait. Of course, I told him to open it...and when he did, he cut right through the return address. I can make out the address, but not the full name. There was no note. I didn't recognize the address. So, it's a mystery to us. We have NO idea who the thoughtful and caring person is. Only, it must be someone who reads my journal, and knows that poor lamby needed to retire.  I've been looking for a puppet JUST like this one for ages. Stephen was thrilled to pieces! As  you can see.

As far as I know, I've never mentioned our last name here in my journal. Only a few of you know my full name and physical address and you know who you are, and y'all claim to know nothing about this special delivery. I've asked every family member and neighbor that we have. Not a soul has admitted it. Whoever you are, you know and God knows, and if that's the way you want to keep it, I'll respect that. From the bottom of my heart, I want to say, "thank you!" You've done far more than a good deed, you've made Stephen's day, week, month ... and year! . He truly loves her with all his heart.

I'll return soon with vacation pictures, and also I took a last minute trip with some of my family members, (mostly, a girls over night out) leaving Stephen with his daddy for a full 24 hours. First time, ever! I must say, it felt kinda good to get away, and I've made myself a promise to do it more often.

Check back soon!

I'll catch up soon...

Back Soon!

Remembering...Happy Birthday Twins

For years, Beth and I tried to trick people into thinking we were twins. We were together so much of the time, we were often asked if we were sisters.  We couldn't resist saying, "Yes. In fact, we're twins."

You see, that story isn’t very far from the truth.  Biologically ... no, we are not related.  But ... twins, in a sense, yes.  Let me fill you in.  Our Moms were best friends when they were younger and what a joy it must have been for them, to both be expecting babies at the same time.  Even more of a joy, those babies were delivered on the very same day, just a short time apart.  By the same doctor! [just kidding about the Dr.] And, an even greater joy, both had girls.  My Mom still laughs when telling the stories of how we shared everything when we were babies.  We would play on a blanket on the floor and share our bottles and teething rings.  We've shared everything, ever since.  While growing up, we were inseparable.

Many people find this hard to believe ~ Beth and I have never had a harsh word with each other.  Never, one argument!  Now isn't it hard to believe, two little girls, together all the time, never fighting?  Okay wait, I’ll admit, there was this one fight that I’ll never forget!  I think we were ten years old.  Beth’s parents were at the beach and she was staying with me.  For once, I think we were actually getting on each others nerves.  (imagine that) We ran out of things to do. There was nothing left to talk about.  Out of the blue, I suggested that I thought Wonder Woman was stronger than the Bionic Woman.  Beth raised one eyebrow, gave me a scornful look and said, “No, Mia, You are dead wrong, the Bionic Woman is way stronger than Wonder Woman.”  We went back and forth on this disagreement for quite a while. Realizing we would probably never see Lindsey Wagner and Linda Carter in the ring, we decided we would have to prove it.  By me, playing the role of Wonder Woman and she, the Bionic Woman.  We were actually fighting, for the first and the last time, ever!  Just in case you are wondering, it was a tie.  To this day, we are convinced that Wonder Woman and the Bionic Woman possess the same amount of strength, only in different areas.  What a perfect balance! The same can be said about the two of us.  We are both strong women.  You can bet, if one of us isn't feeling very strong, the other is able to give of her strength, to lift the other and help her make it through.  We've shared many tears and much laughter. I can't imagine having an identical, biological twin that I'd feel closer to than Beth.

~Remembering our teen years in the photos above~

We were very "nice" girls. Really, we were!  We would spend our weekends reading books. How boring is that to most teenagers? Beth would read a chapter, then I would read a chapter.  When we finished the book, we'd have deep discussions about it.

Then, they had to go and invent MTV! We still did a lot of reading, but spent a huge amount of time eating pizza in front of the TV, and wait patiently to see Journey videos. While waiting for the really good videos, we would make fun of such bands as 'The Flock Of Seagulls' and the like.

The only picture album that I could find was from age 15 to about 17 or so. We were quite the camera hams so I have no idea where all of those countless pictures are.  A shame, I don't think our moms took baby pictures of us together.


Another year older, another year to share with my twin.  We've always wanted to go to the beach for our birthday, just the two of us...no family, no children. Just us. We've dreamed of sitting on the beach all day ... sipping on cold drinks, reading books, and having deep discussions again without the interruption of having to take care of husbands and kids. I have no idea when or if that will ever happen. Tomorrow, I leave with my family for the beach. Tomorrow, Beth comes back from the beach with her family.  Maybe, we'll pass somewhere in south Alabama and honk our horns at each other!

Beth will read this while I'm still in Florida, so ... Happy Birthday, Beth!

LYLAS! 

Gifts From The Heart

This is not the entry I had planned, but I will get back to that as soon as I can...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, another chapter in my life's story is almost complete. This weekend, I will close chapter 37. Saturday, I'll turn 38. ::sigh::

I had to run some errands for my mama today and when I got there, she told me that aunt Ressie had just left. I hate I didn't get to see her, but I'll see her next week, when I visit her. Her birthday is the 27th and we always make a big deal out of our b'days being so close. We usually have coffee and good conversation while exchanging gifts. She wanted to make sure that I had mine before going to the beach, so I'd have something good to read while there. We've made it a custom to buy books for each other. A very interesting book this year! "A Persuaded Heart" by Gladys Hunt. A Woman's Potential for Genuine Freedom.  When I read the first line, I knew it was for me.

First sentence reads:: Everybody has to feel good about themselves for some reason. The need is built-in.  It's part of being made in the image of God.

God bless aunt Ressie. She has always known that although mama and daddy gave me everything I needed and wanted while growing up, there was one very important thing missing. Self Confidence! Maybe some children need to be reminded of their self worth...A lot! If that is so, I was that kind of child. For as long as I can remember, I never felt that I was good enough. I didn't feel that I could overcome anything. I was always afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of trying. Afraid of failing. So...I would avoid anything that I felt was too difficult for me.  Mama and daddy did what they thought was best. They didn't push me to be all that I could be. I would decide something was too hard and instead of hearing, "you're smart, you're tough, you can do it!" I heard, "well, honey, whatever makes you happy. Just do your best."  Well, in my eyes, my best wasn't good enough. Ever. So I would walk away, feeling disappointed in myself. Burying myself deeper and deeper into a grave of self pity, and doubt. Evading every challenge before me. I believe that because of this, I didn't do well with serious relationships. If the going got tough, I would get going, by completely repudiating the relationship. I never looked back. That is, until I was given the blessed gift of Stephen. :) Now, I am finally learning things about myself I never knew, and wouldn't in a million years ever believed in.  I am finally believing what aunt Ressie has been trying to tell me for years. I am worth something. If I try hard enough, I can overcome many obstacles. My favorite coffee mug was a gift from Ressie. It says, "Begin each day believing in yourself!" When I opened it, she said, "See what that says? I want you to promise me that you'll do that every-single morning!"  I promised her that I would, and I do.

I was so busy, digging through my gift bag, I overlooked one of my favorite things in the world! The card.  I know that she must pray before she buys my gifts and cards, that she will be led to buy exactly what I need at the time. It was a lovely card. A picture of birds, gathered at a bird feeder.  The inside reads:

I thank Him for letting me share this special day with you.

Happy Birthday!
Love and Prayers! I love you!

Aunt Ressie

Then at the bottom in small font, it reads:

"The fruit of the spirit is love..."
Galations 5:22  [No kidding, I had just been reading those words and trying to apply them, daily!]

::She also gave me-the gorgeous lamp with the ruby red shade and beads!  She knows me so well! I love red-red-red! I tend to decorate with a lot of deep ruby reds, and deep greens with natural tones in the background :: 

update:: If you click on the link above [A Persuaded Heart] you too can read the book online!

Only Me. Only At Walmart.

[trust me, no picture is needed for this entry!]

First of all, on behalf of my husband and child, I want to apologize to the very nice woman and her children who were at Walmart yesterday.  Here's the story to the best of my knowledge::

We leave for the beach next weekend, and none of my bathing suits passed my inspection.  I'll be honest, it's down right nauseating, the way I look in them! But, that's beside the point.  After trying on all 12 of them, I said, "I'm going to Walmart!" Yeah, I know, nothing looks worse on an already bad figure than a Walmart bathing suit, but hey, we're doing good to go to the beach. I can't afford a $100 + suit.  Can't afford the padding, lifting and tummy control suits. It's a real shame too, because that's what I really need!  Anyway, rolling right along... I felt guilty, getting out of the house alone, and asked my husband if he and Stephen wanted to go too.  Darn, they did.

Now, let me just say, it's his own fault. I guess he doesn't remember saying, "I'll never go with you to shop for a bathing suit again!" How soon we forget.  He said it, same time last year! He had Stephen in the shopping cart [or "buggy" as we call it in Alabama] walking around, and leaves me at the bathing suits and says, "We'll meet you back here in five minutes."  I laughed. More like, five hours! Ladies, y'all know how it is! Every single one you see and like, they NEVER have your size! Heck, that would be too easy, now wouldn't it?! So, I ended up just looking at sizes, not for something that I thought was pretty. I found 3 suits in my size. Needless to say, the least of my favorites. I went into the dressing room, and hear the door slam behind me.  I looked around, and looked up to notice the ceiling tiles seemed to all be in place. I'm funny about that.  I hate shedding my clothing in Walmart dressing rooms. I feel like, even though the door is locked, it's too exposed and loud.  I "feel" like I'm being watched. I mean, really...I'd hate for someone to see me, and lose their lunch.

Meanwhile, hubby and child are walking around Wally-World, and circle around the women's clothing every now and again to not find me.

Stephen decides to pitch a good old-fashioned fit about sitting in the cart. Hubby gives in and lets him out. [big, mistake. Never do that when you're with him alone!]  When Stephen doesn't want to walk or cooperate in any way, he'll sit his little butt down right there. There is no reasoning with him. You have to physically pick him up and move him. This is when he decided he would try to embarrass daddy by whining, crying and laying flat on his back. That doesn't work with mama anymore. He knows the consequence.  Daddy doesn't have the pleasure of being with Stephen one on one as much as I do, and he didn't know what was coming. In the middle of my husband's embarrassing moment, trying to talk Stephen into getting off the floor, he hears a voice:: "Is that Stephen?" Husband :: "Uhh, yeah." [forcing a smile, I am sure] I can only imagine the sweat and embarrassment pouring off of his face.  Lady:: "Aw!! I read your wife's journal! Kids, this is Stephen! You know, the little boy who threw lambchop in the oven last week?!" Husband is cussing me out, inside his head. [out loud when in the car] As Stephen laid in the floor, flat on his back, refusing to get up, his daddy tried to talk and act like he wasn't the least bit embarrassed... ::insert evil grin here:: I know so well how that is! He says that he knows he came across as rude and feels bad about it now.

Gee, I didn't know what was going on! I'm in the dressing room, having a nervous breakdown of my own!  The lights in Walmart are NOT flattering! As my bottom lip was shaking, I bit it and held back the tears. I grabbed the suits and walk out with my head down. Turned to take one last glance in the mirror and called myself a -- bad word.  I vowed that I wouldn't be in this bad of shape next summer. Same vow I made last summer.

By now, I'm ready to just get out of Walmart. I walked around and around, trying to locate my family. I even went to the automotive department, knowing that is my husband's favorite aisle. No sign of them! I said to myself, "Maybe I should go to the service desk and have him paged.  ...Nah, I wouldn't want to embarrass him.  [can't help but laugh at the irony there!]

I picked up a few other items that I didn't need while looking for hubby and child, and I hear, "Mia --------------- YOUR HUSBAND IS WAITING FOR YOU IN THE CAR!"  She was kind enough to repeat it a couple of times. Very, loud. [only, she pronounced my name, as "Mel."] I had flashbacks of, "Mia -----------YOUR MOTHER IS WAITING FOR YOU AT THE SERVICE DESK!" when I was 15 years old.  I can feel the blood rush to my face as I hurry to a cash register, saying under my breath, "I'm gonna kill him!" 

Trust me...that was the least of my worries after I got out to the car. 

All the way home, I looked out the window, tuned out the noise and wished that I'd just gone alone.  Why do mothers feel guilty for wanting a couple of hours to themselves?

Anyway...Nice, lady. Dear, reader...I apologize for my husband's rudeness.  Now you know the whole story.  I hope you'll forgive him.  But, I'm dying to know, "Who are you?" 

::Gasp!::  Oh, crap! It just occurred to me, I'm going to have to behave while in public!  You never know who you'll run into at Walmart!

A Recipe Entry?

Broiled Lambchop

It was a day, like any other day. Stephen was about to watch Arthur on PBS; A cartoon which has really grown on me over the last few years. I was in the office under a pile of paper work I had to do for the husband when I heard the Arthur theme song begin. I said to myself, "I'll go in there and keep my lil' man company and watch Arthur with him." I gathered the ton of paperwork I'll never finish, and went down the hall. I breathed in the aroma that filled the air. It smelled of rosemary and garlic. Mmm, the roast is really smelling good. It'll be done in about 45 minutes. I decided to bake it in an oven bag today. Easy cleanup.

Stephen saw me enter the room with my paperwork, stood to his little feet, clapped his hands and smiled. Happy mama is joining him to watch 'our' favorite show. It was my lucky day! One of my favorite Arthur episodes! D.W. tricks the tooth fairy! Whoohoo!

Just about the time D.W. was saying something sarcastic to Arthur about how she planned to trick the tooth fairy, I found a $75.00 error, in our favor! ...Sweet!...::sniff:: Hmm, that roast is smelling 'funny.'  maybe I shouldn't have used the oven bag. I hear the oven door slam. "STEPHEN!! Stay away from the oven! It's hot! Mama is making a roast. I know it smells good, but you have to leave it alone and wait till supper!"  The boy would not walk away and kept reaching out to touch the stove, then he'd jump up and down, and clap his hands at me. "Stephen, I said, NO!"  I better check that roast, it's beginning to stink!  I  opened the door to the oven and there was poor lambchop, in flames! Laying flat on her back on the bottom burner, her leg was on fire, and her back was smoking. Stephen is pitching a fit as if he's saying, "DO SOMETHING!" I reach in with my bare hands [stupid] grabbed her and threw her in the sink. I splashed her with water. The sight was awful, the kitchen stunk to high-heaven, the smoke alarm was NOT going off. [I guess it only does that when I make toast] Stephen was turning around in circles and making noises I'd never heard him make before.  God bless him, he thought he'd killed Lamby. I compared his emotions to the time I closed the refrigerator door on my kitten when I was little. Traumatized.

Just like that, poor lamby had suffered yet, another injury. God love her little fuzzy heart! Take a good look. She was a gift from my mama when Stephen was a baby, eleven years ago. Soon after we got her, the dog took a liking to her and chewed her ears off. She's been thrown out of the car. Stephen's daddy came within an inch of his life dodging cars to save her that time on highway 280. She's been thrown into the ceiling fan and zoomed across the room too many times to count. She's been drooled on. Chewed on. Cried on. Puked on. Crapped on. And finally, set on fire. How much more can she endure? Sadly, I can relate to that feeling. Except, I haven't been set on fire or thrown out into Highway 280 traffic yet. I did get a rather large bump on my head from the ceiling fan once. I was dusting it and Stephen wondered what would happen if he flipped the switch on.

To tell you the truth, I think I'm about as attached to lambchop as Stephen is. I feel that she understands me. I sure do understand her.  I've been known to sleep with her when I was sick with my mystery illness and Stephen was in school. ...And, I can't believe I just said that. I've held her tight as I cried tears for Stephen. She's been there every step of the way. That is why I couldn't trash her. I couldn't salvage all of her leg, for it was melted so badly. I cut away all I could from the melted stuffing, found an old baby sock of Stephen's [see, I've always said, you never know when you'll need them] and made her a new leg. Stephen paced the livingroom floor as I performed surgery. Now she looks like she's wearing a cast of some sort. Stephen doesn't mind. He's just happy to have her back in his arms again.

Just before bedtime, he put her in the microwave and turned it on. I guess he was curious how that would turn out.

Like I said, it was a day like any other day...

Boys!

note: he couldn't even keep his little hands off of her long enough for me to take a picture of the burns on her back. I had to snap it quick!

Fireworks

We hope you all had a happy fourth!

We had a very nice and laid back day. In fact, it was so laid back, we didn't even cook. Mama and daddy bought bb'q and all the "fixins" from a local restaurant. That was nice, very-nice. I do regret not making a peach cake. I was looking forward to baking one and posting a recipe entry. Maybe soon...

At 9 PM our town had our annual fireworks show. We found a great place to park. [..and the people who lived there didn't even mind!] ::sigh:: Our small town now has a population of more than 25,000 people, so there is NEVER anywhere to park.

In this photo, I was able to get a shot of the grand finale! I used to love watching the fireworks. Since I was a little girl, the symbolic meaning, mixed with the awesome lights and sounds of the fireworks show would always put a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat.  Now, I enjoy watching Stephen's face as he watches the show. I still get a tear in my eye, and a lump in my throat. Have you ever watched a child's expression when they are in awe? It's worth missing the fireworks to see...

The Notebook

Those who know me really well, know that I am nuts about, Nicholas Sparks. I've read every single one of his novels. Some of them, more than once.  ....Wait, that isn't so. I haven't read, The Wedding. The Wedding is going to be in paperback this summer. Maybe I'll buy that and take it to the beach. Hah! As if I'd have time to read a book and watch Stephen? Nah, I'll wait till this fall when he's in school. I had planned to read it last fall, when it was released...but if you've been reading my journal for a while, you know how hectic our school year was.    

My Twin-Friend and I are going to see The Notebook for our birthday!  She and I have been trying to make it a tradition to go out to dinner and a movie every year for our birthday. Darn it, for the last two years in a row, I was too sick. Now that I am better, I am looking forward to finally celebrating our birthday in our so-called traditional way. I told her the other night that unless she had any objections, I had a movie suggestion. She immediately agreed, The Notebook is the one to see this year. We have the same taste in books and movies. So, sometime soon, we will be in the cinema sharing popcorn, cokes and a box of Kleenex. My review of the book would take entirely too long to write, so if you're interested, you'll want to follow the link up there.  All I will say is, the "notebook" itself, is a reflection of the couple's relationship. A journal kept over the years. It begins with the man's character telling the story from the age he is now. You will be taken back in time when their love was young, in the 40's. He speaks of the obstacles they overcame. Including, being torn apart by her parents who felt the boy wasn't good enough for their daughter, and a second time, by the war. And, a 3rd time... I won't get into. You'll have to read the book or see the movie. I simply don't have time. [sorry]

Just to whet your appetite, here is an excerpt from The Notebook::  

 :chapter one:  

Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this
story end?
The sun has come up and I am sitting by a
window that is foggy with the breath of a life
gone by. I’m a sight this morning: two shirts,
heavy pants, a scarf wrapped twice around my
neck and tucked into a thick sweater knitted by
my daughter thirty birthdays ago. The thermostat
in my room is set as high as it will go, and
a smaller space heater sits directly behind me. It
clicks and groans and spews hot air like a fairytale
dragon, and still my body shivers with a
cold that will never go away, a cold that has
been eighty years in the making. Eighty years, I
think sometimes, and despite my own acceptance
of my age, it still amazes me that I haven’t
been warm since George Bush was president.

I wonder if this is how it is for everyone my
age.
My life? It isn’t easy to explain. It has not been
the rip-roaring spectacular I fancied it would be,
but neither have I burrowed around with the
gophers. I suppose it has most resembled a bluechip
stock: fairly stable, more ups than downs,
and gradually trending upward over time. A
good buy, a lucky buy, and I’ve learned that not
everyone can say this about his life. But do not
be misled. I am nothing special; of this I am sure.
I am a common man with common thoughts,
and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments
dedicated to me and my name will soon be
forgotten, but I’ve loved another with all my
heart and soul, and to me, this has always been
enough. .......
 

And it gets so much better. ::sniff, sniff: Now I need a tissue. Talk amongst yourselves... Keep this in mind; this is NOT just a love story. Romantic as it is, it goes much deeper than being an everyday love story.  

 [Before I go, our reservations have been made! Florida, here we come! We will  be spending my birthday on the beautiful, sugar-white Pensacola Beach! Whoohoo!]  

Have a happy weekend!

Midnight Rambling

Some of my old AOL-J friends may have noticed that my "old" writing style is gone. Or, maybe, I've just misplaced it. Maybe...I'm suffering from writer's block. I'm not really sure what is going on with me. I'm not what I would call "depressed" I feel okay. Not very sad. Not very happy. I just feel...unreachable. Sort of like the photo of Stephen up there, taken last Monday at the playground, behind the fire station. I feel like I'm in a tunnel. A few months back, I wrote a few articles that I don't feel are worthy to post or to do anything with at this time. So, I keep them, tucked away for now. It's been a really long time since I've written anything that I feel good about. I am always writing in my mind, and I just don't have time to sit down and get the words into the computer. When I do have time, I just don't feel the desire.  

Then, I think about Stephen.  He is always in that tunnel. Words inside his head, but no way to get them out. This thought consumes me. How frustrating that must be for him.  

Does anyone doubt that I worry - - a lot? I get it honestly. I come from a long-line of worriers.  My Mother is now the queen of worriers, coming in a very close 2nd to her mother before her.  

Note to self...  

 Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles. 
It empties today of its strength....

                          Author Unknown 

Time for a Recipe

Remember that entry I had prepared? I lost it. I'll redo it, pictures and all and post later. Stephen and I went to the park, located behind one of our fire stations. The last one that my brother worked at before he retired. Which is also across the street from where my daddy works. Cute pictures and I can't wait to post them.  

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I was thinking,  it's been a while since I made a recipe entry and since it's grilling season, I thought I'd post one of our favorite ways to grill chicken. You've probably all tried, or at least heard of "Beer Butt Chicken"  We made this the other day at my mom and dad's house. They'd never had it before, and when I mentioned that it involved a can of beer, daddy kind of perked up and said, "Hey, that sounds good!"  While the chicken was on the grill, one of my aunts called and asked mama what we were doing. Mama, not fully understanding the name of the recipe, replied. "We're cooking some recipe of Mia's.  Butt-Hole chicken. Sounds nasty if you ask me."  I swear, I laughed so hard upon hearing this, I fell out of the kitchen chair and had a hard time catching my breath! From that day, I vowed to never call it beer-butt-chicken again. The following is my version::  

Butt-Hole Chicken  

Here's what you'll need::  

A whole chicken  That means, a chicken that hasn't been cut up. But, if you didn't already know that, maybe you should just skip this and go to your local grocery store and just buy a rotisserie chicken.  

Some type of dry rub I usually just make one of brown sugar, garlic powder, salt, onion powder, paprika, a litte bit of Jane's Crazy Mixed Up Salt. ...Whatever... Some folks like Cajun seasoning and the like.    

Olive oil  for basting the chicken  

A 12 oz. can of beer (a couple of extra if you wish, for basting the grill master)  

Fresh garlic, minced (as much as you like)    

Here's what you do::  

Be sure to use a grill with a lid tall enough to cook the chicken, standing upright. Prepare your grill for indirect grilling.  

Mix the rub together in a bowl.   

Remove the giblets from the cavity of the chicken.  [My cat, "Patches" swears this is the best part, so I let her have them instead of wasting them.]  

Wash chicken,  inside and out and dry with paper towels. Spray some olive oil on the chicken. Season the chicken inside and out with the rub of your choice. I also like to put some under the skin.   

Pour about 1/2 of the beer into a glass or a chilled mug; then add your minced garlic and any remaining rub to the can of beer. I like to open the can with a can opener or poke about 2 more big holes in it for the steam to escape while it's grilling.  

Now you'll want to lube the can with some olive oil and lower the chicken over the can so it looks like the chicken is sitting on the can. It is hard to balance a big chicken over a small can of beer. If you have a really big chicken, you may need a tall boy for this part. Or you can buy a ChickCan making balancing a lot easier. 

 Place over indirect heat, cover and cook for about an hour and a half to 2 hours. Till the juices are clear and the skin is transparent and crisp.  (if chicken isn't browning enough, you can spread a few coals under the chicken toward the end of cooking time)  

Note:: check often for flare ups. Use caution removing the chicken from grill and the beer can from the chicken, don't burn yourself with the hotbeer like I did, the first timeI cooked this! Use oven mitts! Let cool for about 15-20 minutes.  

This will be the most, moist grilled chicken you've ever had!   Enjoy!

Fallen Officers

I am delaying the entry I had prepared for today to have a moment of silence for these three brave men who lost their lives last Thursday while attempting to serve a misdemeanor warrant in Birmingham.

The suspects are crying police brutality as their defense.  They claim they were being beaten. Numerous drugs and assault weapons were found at the scene.

[The officer pictured in the middle had plans to stop by the bakery that afternoon to pick up his little granddaughter's birthday cake for the party they were having for her that evening. He was looking forward to planning his retirement.]

Dispatchers Poem, written for the three heroes

Happy Father's Day

So~it was a cloudy day. My eyes were closed, and daddy needed to shave. But the love was still there...

Most recent photo of daddy and me. Taken last Sunday, June 12th.

 

Happy Father's Day!

What Have We Been Doing?

Hello everyone! I wanted to announce that yesterday afternoon, at his nonnie's house, Stephen fed himself cereal with a spoon [without spilling most of the milk!] We have been working on self-feeding with a spoon for a very long time. He was so proud of himself. I am happpy that I was able to get pictures of this for our scrapbook!

The story below is something that a fellow-mom of a special needs child sent to me. Ironically, the title is a phrase that I use quite often. One thing that really gets under my skin, is to see a small child playing near or in the road. Especially without adult supervision. I see this every day in my neighborhood and always ask myself, "Where Are The Parents?" Last summer, my husband went to a neighbor's house out of concern to let them know that their little girl [3 years old] had been sitting in the curve and he thought they'd want to know so they would keep a closer eye on her. The father didn't even put his beer down to cuss at my husband and tell him to mind his own business. I just can't understand that!  It should be illegal for people like them to procreate.  

Anyway, the above story has nothing to do with this story. I just felt like adding a personal rant today.  

For the past 3 years, I have not been involved in Stephen's school like I used to be. Mostly, just because the PTA at Stephen's school doesn't apply to us. I went to a few meetings, and I felt like an outsider, looking in. Nothing that was said had a thing to do with special education. So, I dropped out, after I made a few comments which received no replies. No one contacted me after I stopped going. It's like I was never even involved in the first place. Other things have taken precedence over selling coupon books and candy, or having carnivals to raise money for the school, especially when none of the funds go into the special education department in his school. I suggested a cookbook sell, and no one was interested so I left it at that. No hurt feelings, no real harm done. I have way too much to contend with, where Stephen is concerned anyway. After you read the story below, you'll have an idea what our life as Stephen's parents is like.  I know a lot of you have grown to love Stephen. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!  It's been great to feel the love. Remember; there is a Stephen in every town across America! Behind each of them, you'll find a worn out and very exhausted mother, like myself. A lot of them are single mothers. You can help make a difference. You can contact your local ARC [association for retarded citizens], The Easter seals foundation,  The UCP [united cerebral palsy]  just to name a few. Also, contacting your county's special education department is a good place to start.   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Hey everyone,  I am mom to Michelle, 9 years old, microecephallic, athetoid/spastic CP, Cortical Visual Impairment, Seizure disorder—and very CUTE! Ok, now for the reason I’m writing.

To make a long story short, earlier this week a question was asked by some nit wit official as to why there weren't more parents (of special needs kids) involved in the local PTA and other issues that have come up that directly involve our kids. His question, which was passed on to me was "Where are the Parents?" The first time this question was asked I went home and started thinking—and boy was I ANGRY—and banged this "little" essay out the next day on my lunch break. By the way, I took copies of this to the school board meeting that night, and gave it to a couple of influential people and it WILL get around............ Sue Stuyvesant

Where are the parents?
By Sue Stuyvesant 10/15/96

Where are the parents?

They are on the phone to doctors and hospitals and fighting with  insurance companies, wading through the red tape in order that their child's medical needs can be properly addressed.

They are buried under a mountain of paperwork and medical bills, trying to make sense of a system that seems designed to confuse and intimidate all but the very savvy.

Where are the parents?

They are at home, diapering their 15 year old son, or trying to lift their 100 lb. daughter onto the toilet. They are spending an hour at each meal to feed a child who cannot chew, or laboriously and carefully feeding their child through a g-tube. They are administering medications, changing catheters and switching oxygen tanks.

Where are the parents?

They are sitting, bleary eyed and exhausted, in hospital emergency rooms, waiting for tests results to come back and wondering: is this the time when my child doesn't pull through? They are sitting patiently, in hospital rooms as their child recovers from yet another surgery to lengthen hamstrings or straighten backs or repair a faulty internal organ. They are waiting in long lines in county clinics because no insurance company will touch their child.

Where are the parents?

They are sleeping in shifts because their child won't sleep more than 2 or 3 hours a night, and must constantly be watched, lest he do himself, or another member of the family, harm. They are sitting at home with their child because family and friends are either too intimidated or too unwilling to help with child care and the state agencies that are designed to help are suffering cut backs of their own.

Where are the parents?

They are trying to spend time with their non-disabled children, as they try to make up for the extra time and effort that is critical to keeping their disabled child alive. They are struggling to keep a marriage together, because adversity does not always bring you closer. They are working 2 and sometime 3 jobs in order to keep up with the extra expenses. And sometimes they are a single parent struggling to do it all by themselves.

Where are the parents?

They are trying to survive in a society that pays lip service to helping those in need, as long as it doesn’t cost them anything. They are trying to patch their broken dreams together so that they might have some sort of normal life for their children and their families. They are busy, trying to survive.

Update and longing for the beach...

WoW! I wasn't expecting this photo to be so huge! These photos were taken last year at Pensacola Beach, Florida. We are really getting the fever to go back. Stephen had the best time. It was his first time to go. I've never seen anyone enjoy the sand as much as he did. Now that I am getting older, I am acting...Well, old! I didn't care for the sand. How can you love the beach, but not the sand? I hated the gritty feeling. I hated getting it in the car. I hated trying to wash it out of Stephen's hair. But, what small little prices to pay, when I look at those pictures and remember how much he loved the beach! We were going to go back for my birthday if my husband isn't working that weekend. Then, while looking at the summer school schedule, they have the final school day listed as July 24th! That is on a Saturday. I know this, because that is my birthday. I was hoping to turn 38 in Pensacola, Florida. There must be some mistake. They have never had school on a Saturday.

In other news: My husband's business is doing well. Too busy though, and having to turn business down. That isn't good to do. People remember those things. But, we can't afford to hire anyone to help yet. Bummer... I told him that if he could just teach me how to weld pipe and do structural steel work...I could do it without pay. Just like I do the house work for free.  (hah!) But, no. That wouldn't do. The grand opening of Ted's Montana Grill is soon! He's glad to have that one behind him. The owners kept changing their minds about how they wanted things, and he had to go back, redo what had already passed building inspection, etc. Thus, putting him behind schedule on other jobs that he had going on. If you don't meet your deadline, it costs money. We can't afford to lose money at this point, he's just getting off the ground. He still isn't out of the woods yet, the owners could change their mind anytime, again. We're supposed to go to the grand opening dinner. When I found out they serve buffalo meat, I asked what kind of soups and salads they have. I hear the clam chowder is good :) Buffalo meat? ::gag:: Oh well, I've had stranger foods than that. I live in the south. LOL...Do you know what cracklin cornbread is? Well, [to me] it isn't as strange as buffalo meat, I can tell ya that. And it's very good from what I can remember. :) Okay, I know people are wondering what the heck that is. Cracklin is salt pork that has been fried till crisp. You add it to the cornbread batter and bake it like you normally bake cornbread. What? How do you make southern cornbread? I'll have to get back to ya and do a recipe entry on that. Pictures and all. Maybe I'll throw in my Southern fried chicken recipe too? After all, it is picnic season.

Okay, so now I'm just rambling. I wanted to give a quick update before we leave. My husband and child are dragging me away from the computer. I've been trying so hard to get caught up on visits and even visited a few new ones today. But the fun is over. Time to get out for a little while in this hot and humid Alabama heat! Not really wanting to go. In fact, I think I'd rather eat a buffalo! :P

update 9:00 PM: Ted's grand opening was last weekend. We missed it because that was the day of my parent's 50th anniversary party. Oh, well. Missed a free meal. I hate when that happens. btw...The owner of this chain of restaurants is Ted Turner. Who'da thought it? I suppose everyone already knew that. I'm always the last to know these things.  Time to get Stephen ready for bed.

Good night!

A few more photos

Yes, I've been a little quiet. We've been at my parent's house, taking care of their dog while they are on vacation. You can go HERE to view a few more pictures of the party...

I'll update soon. (I'll try)

After The Party (admire the groom's cake)

Gosh, am I glad I took that cake decorating class last month! Just kidding. The man who did both cakes (pictures to be featured later) has been decorating cakes for years.

I just wanted to give a quick update and say that the party was so much fun. Mama and Daddy were so surprised. A big, "THANK YOU" to all friends and family who attended and made it the celebration it was. More pictures to come soon. Thanks to my cousin, Sonya who recommended we buy disposable cameras for the guests to take lots of pictures (was that a great idea, or what?) My aunt Mary will be busy for weeks developing around 300 + pictures. My cousin, Beverly and several other guests brought their digicams (still waiting for those pictures, Bev. ::hint::) :P Oh, and by the way, Bev...Please use Photoshop to correct the dark circles around my eyes, would ya, doll?

In other news, Stephen is doing fine. No more seizures. He is very happy today; watching Lassie as I type. Tomorrow is his first day of summer school (if you dare to call it that, only 5 days ALL summer, but we'll take what we can get) He will go from 8-11 AM every Tuesday for the rest of June, and only twice in July.

I'm going to go for now. I am so tired from the lack of sleep and excitement, I feel like I am a walking hangover. (must be all that cake) I'll post more pictures later. Mother's cake was just as beautiful as daddy's. But for now, just admire that chocolate, would ya...

I have leftovers!

checking in...

Hello, everyone. Just checking in. I need a magnifying glass to see what I am typing. Is it just my computer, or is the font in AOL-J land, very tiny since Tuesday evening?  If anyone has any idea what is going on, please e-maiil me. I cannot read the entries or comments in journals, for the font is so small. 

Thanks

Happy Birthday To My Daddy!

Today is daddy’s 73rd birthday! I wanted to bake him a cake, but when I talked to mama, she said that he is working in Tennessee and she has no idea when he’ll be back. Could be today, could be tonight. I know what you’re thinking…He is 73 and still working? Yep, you heard me right. My daddy has been a hard-worker for most of his 73 years. He said that he “might” retire in January. We’ll see. The man loves his job, he loves the guys that he works with, who call him “Uncle Mack” He loves mama, the woman he works for, to give her everything she needs and most of what she wants. He enjoys spoiling his grandchild to pieces with unnecessary gifts. He loves his loyal 13-year-old dog, Rocky. He still enjoys fishing, and hunting with boyish-like passion. Last but not least, he loves gardening in the summer and winter. Daddy has a full and happy life. He taught me to love others, unconditionally, to judge not, and over and over, I heard him say, "if you can't say anything nice, say nothing at all." Daddy practices what he preaches. In a nutshell, in my eyes, he's a Saint.

Daddy gets up at 4:30 in the morning, walks the dog, and makes coffee for mama. Goes to work and gets there at least an hour before everyone else, so he can read the morning paper and have coffee made for the other guys when they arrive. It isn’t unusual for daddy to work an 80-hour week. But the average workweek for daddy is about 50-60 hours. My daddy is the only person I know who actually whistles as he closes the door behind him on his way to work. Then, ten to twelve hours later, comes home, only to still be whistling. Lighthearted and happy. He has many friends, and I’ve never known of him to have even one enemy. He makes you think of Andy Griffith and sounds just like him when he talks. Everyone who meets him, loves him. I often wonder if he’s really that happy, or if the happiness of others means so much to him, he forces himself to not display anger or sadness in front of us. Of course, I've seen him cry on many occasion. The death of a loved one. When mama is sick, when Stephen was in the hospital. But for the most part, happy. During my entire childhood, I can only remember pushing daddy to the limit one time. I didn’t want to leave my grandmother’s house. I wanted to spend time with my cousin, Beverly. Or, Bevy Anne, I called her in those days. I was having a tantrum and started to kick the dashboard of his brand new Ford pickup. He pulled over and “tapped” me with his belt. HaH! It didn’t even hurt, but I screamed the loudest, blood-curdling scream I could and then I acted like I was hyperventilating while arguing my point. He stopped at Dairy Queen and filled me with hot fudge cake and vanilla ice cream till my broken heart was content. [God, I was a brat] Mama would have said, “You better hush that crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about!” Maybe I had a good balance between them. (?) Mama was the one who punished me. Daddy was the one who made up for it by giving me bear hugs, and tickling my feet. I’ve thought for years that daddy was passive, and mama was aggressive and I turned out to be passive-aggressive. LOL. Really. That’s what I do when I get angry. I don’t get mad, I get even. Oh, how evil! Hah! And y’all thought you knew me so well, didn’t you. My family reading this, is laughing and saying, “Yeah, that’s the truth! Don’t pee in her cornflakes. She might pee in your cornflakes, for real!” ::evil laughing as I am typing this sentence::

In ending this birthday tribute to my daddy, I wish I was as talented as SloMo so I could attach the song, “What a Wonderful World” by Louie Armstrong, my daddy’s favorite musician and very favorite song. I remember as a little girl, daddy carrying me around or holding my hand, singing that song, as we walked through his vegetable garden. Then, after several choruses, he’d just whistle the tune, “what a wonderful world.”

…And, it was. J

Vulcan, Playing Catch-Up, and general Yapping

Hey, Y'all! It's been more than a week since my last update. Things have gone from hectic to utter chaos! I honestly don't feel I can handle one more thing on my plate. It's an overloaded Thanksgiving feast already, and my mashed potatoes are overflowing out of the plate. Yet, life keeps on saying, "Here, have some more!" This is the last full week of school for Stephen. He goes next Monday and Tuesday, but those are just party days for him. (Remember what that was like as a kid?) Take a brief moment to walk down memory lane and feel that feeling. ....

Ahhh, Now, snap back to reality!

Sunday was a Great day. We made ourselves slow down long enough to visit Birmingham's Vulcan Park. The above picture doesn’t do justice for the view. It’s incredible! Then we went by mom and dad's house for the rest of the afternoon. Mom took a spill down the stairs a few weeks ago. Well, more of a trip, and daddy caught her, but she still managed to further injure her almost-healed slipped disc. :( God bless her. Daddy is having to help her with her baths, etc. and I am helping with chores around the house. My cousin, Sue is a big help to mama and daddy too. Anyway..getting back to my story.. Mama got all teary-eyed yesterday when telling me that daddy almost dropped her while helping her get out of the tub. She said that he looked at her with such pity. Then she told me that she feels like she got "old" too quickly. I didn't go into my speech of, "Well, it's sorta your own fault for smoking 4 packs a day, and not being active enough." Unlike her, I know when to keep my opinions to myself. I learned that from daddy. Probably the most valuable thing I learned from my daddy is tolerance. I'm not kidding, he is Saint material. I've never heard him say one negative thing about anyone. He's a good man and has loved mama with all his heart for most of his life. How many of us have that? ::sigh:: The only thing I'd change if I could, would be for mama to show "him" the gratitude that she talked about yesterday. Too many of us let life go by without telling our most loved ones how much we appreciate them. I let the moment slip away to say, “tell Him" how you feel. I've always been mother's...bucket that she pours all of her emotions into. Good or bad. I feel I probably know her better than anyone. Maybe even more than daddy in some ways. I’m going to stop on that note, for I could go on and on about my problematic relationship with my mother. I’m aware that it could be worse. I’ll choose to be thankful for all that is good about our relationship. Funny, we sometimes tend to dwell more on that which is difficult to understand. Instead, I suppose we should spend that energy on being thankful for the good things. In doing so, who knows? Maybe more and more good things will come of it?

Finally, I made a decision today. After much thought, I’ve decided to work for the (ha,ha..are you ready?) school system. I know, I know. I said I would never do this, but it’s the only career that makes sense for me. All the time that Stephen has been in school, I said that I needed my days away from him and other children because I am a 24/7 caregiver as it is, and I am so tired and exhausted from it. That still stands true. But, If not me…who? Someone who only takes the job because they like the convenient hours, but are not qualified to work in this field? Yes, I have chosen to work (if they’ll have me) at the center for disabled children. I mean, who is more qualified? Other than being a hair dresser for 21 years, it’s all I know. I’m “good” at it. The pay is at poverty level, but the benefits are awesome. Not to mention the personal rewards. I’ll have everyday off that Stephen has off, so I won’t need outside childcare. The state of Alabama has cut out after school day care for disabled children over the age of 12, bc it isn‘t fair to the none disabled children. [don’t get me started]

Finally, a recap of the day: Stephen’s getting quite a tan, playing on the playground at school. He’s got a golfer’s tan. You know what I mean; if he isn't wearing a shirt, from a distance he *looks* like he's wearing a white t-shirt. :P Cute! But we have to balance that out this summer. The child has NEVER had a tan in his life. I always use sunblock #50. Was there any doubt about that? I'm learning to let go a little, and let my baby get a tan this summer. Please remind me to post pictures of last summer in Pensacola, Florida. (You'll see what I mean) Shoot, I might even go so far as giving him some blonde highlights!

I spent the day with Mama, Daddy and Sue. They treated Sue and me to lunch which was nice. I made it home just in time to get Stephen off of the bus. Now, it’s time to cook supper. Well, I wouldn’t call it that, exactly. I’m going to pop a frozen pizza in the oven.

I apologize for the longwinded update, but I guess that’s what happens when I go over a week without updating. I’ll try to do better, but updating takes away from my time visiting all of you, and I’d much rather keep up with you J

Happy Mothers' Day! (rose picture taken last week at my mom's house)

Yes, we're still here...

Thanks everyone for asking about us, and sorry that I haven't gotten around to replying to all of you. This has been a hectic week, and next week will be even more hectic for us. This is IEP season. I have been going back and forth with his IEP draft. I am trying to get more services for him. 30 minutes a month of occupational therapy, and 30 minutes a week of physical therapy,  just isn't getting it. Not to mention, I feel he needs more one on one with speech. [lack of state funding, etc..] I have found out that the state of AL cannot afford ESY [extended school year] but there will be some sort of routine for the summer, but not near enough. Therefore, I am turning to a program funded by the Easter Seal Foundation, where he can possibly get these services. So much red tape, yada, yada....

I wish I could tell you all that you haven't heard from me because we've been planning our summer vacation, and other fun things. I wish I could say that I've been busy redecorating. But, no... not anything fun at this time. I have been looking at paint samples for the kitchen. I finally ripped the old wallpaper off that Stephen and the cats started peeling a while back. :P We are also looking at new floor covering, or maybe even hardwood for the living room, and some sort of tile for the kitchen. It all depends on my husband's business. When you are starting a new business, that pretty much sucks in all the extra cash. On that note, the business is off to a good start. We've actually had to turn business down. I'll tell you about that bit of news later, when I have more time.  I know that I haven't mentioned the fact that he decided to go into business for himself. We...didn't see eye to eye on that, but I'm feeling a little more comfortable with it now. [a little] What else are you to do when no one is hiring anyway?

So, there is my quick update. I feel out of breath, just typing it.

Hubby asks this morning, "what do you want for Mother's Day". {usually, he doesn't ask, he just buys flowers) I didn't dare say what I really want [a vacation, alone, and a stack of books!] Nothing fancy, really, I want a new chopping/cutting board for the kitchen, and [maybe] a new set of dishes. I'm a very practical person, no?

Happy Mothers' Day!  I'll make more pictures today at mama and daddy's to post later. Her flowers are so pretty right now, and daddy's tomatoes are already growing so nice. Till next time, whenever that'll be...

Mia Renee'