Why are these people in my way??

This story is not one that many people, if any know all the details of.   It is meant to show you that you never know how far your little act of kindness will go and how it will change someone's life forever.

     So, while I was in high school, I was babysitting for a family that I normally sat for.  They were nice enough people... 3 kids, big house, and the gig paid well.  You know, for a high school kid, that 40 bucks extra cash... that's awesome... extra money for whatever.  Well, during one such babysitting job, the new neighbor came over to get her child from playing with the kids I was watching.  This lady from Columbia, MO.  She was different than anyone I had ever met.  She caught Shannon and me off guard.  She asked if we would babysit for her. I didn't know this lady!! Why was she even asking me this?  What makes her think I'm even in the market to take on a new family to babysit?  She must be crazy.  Well, I took the job... but only if Shannon came with me.  Little did I know that God was putting that beautiful, crazy, sweet, and loving woman in my way on purpose.

     Now, let's fast forward, high school graduate, married AND divorced... living on my own... determined to make it... new job... all new changes... and BROKE.  When I say broke... I put the "poo" in "poor".  That is not an exaggeration at ALL!  I went from a job making $9.21 an hour...getting paid every two weeks to a new job that paid soo much better but it was once a month, and I started in the middle of the month... So I went 6 weeks without a paycheck... on my last check which was $437 and I used that overdraft like it was free money.  Thank goodness that someone I worked with previously had an apartment that they let me live in for free if I would watch after the house while they were gone travelling the world.  Take out my $150 car payment a month...(keep in mind I would be giving up $300 in car payment before I would ever see a dime from my new job).  My cell phone bill.  Gas for my car.  (oh yeah and I lived now 15 miles from work... so I had to borrow money from my dad once to get to work to get a check) Helping my friend who has a baby with a deadbeat dad get by with stuff for her baby.  So all that to say, there were times when I didn't eat for a week because I was out of spam and the pot of gold at the end of my ramen rainbow had just been emptied.    Now, back to my friend... this sweet woman who I call my Jewish mom.   If you don't have one, you are missing out.  Seriously!  This is the lady that I thought was crazy the first time I met her.  She didn't know me or if I was good at babysitting, but she hired me.  She HAD to be crazy!  haha!  Anyway, she always used to call and check on me.  See how things were going and make sure I was still alive, you know.  I remember one day in particular she called to see how I was doing... it was a Wednesday.  I hadn't eaten in about 3 days... (Don't worry, had lots of water... it was free.)  When I answered she said, "Hey, how are you!?"  I said, "oh, I'm fine.  Just don't feel too good."  Then she told me that if I would come over, she would have some matzaball soup ready for me.  It was Jewish penicillin after all.   It would cure whatever was wrong with me.  Well, I knew what was wrong with me... I hadn't eaten. haha!  But I would never tell her that.  I was embarrassed and ashamed that I needed help.  Anyway, I went over there and ate.  And she gave me the left overs so I could eat more if I didn't feel better right away.  Little did she know that I was able to eat for 4 days because of that soup.  And then she called and asked if I could house sit for them and she would make sure I got paid well.  Now keep in mind, this wasn't the only time this woman and her family helped me out.  One point before I married my second husband, they had a house they were remodeling and wanted someone to stay in so the stuff they bought to put in didn't get stolen.  So they let me live there for free.  If they hadn't done that, I would have been living in my car because my mom was struggling and I wasn't about to put my burdens on her.  She raised me to fight through and win.  Without this family and their ability to bless me and help me even when they had NO idea what was going on, I wouldn't be where I am today or have the things I have or the understanding of people who are struggling and the tender heart to help when I don't know what's going on.  God heard me and he put them in my way to help take care of me.

So I tell you that story so that the next time you feel that tug on your heart to do something for someone, you never know how much that little something can change the whole course of that person's life.  You might be the one person who can help them get over that struggle and succeed.

-Make sure you pay it forward when you can if someone has helped you get to where you have the ability to pay it forward.

{lou}

And NOW they tell me that there is no manual.

So, I'm going through my facebook, like I often do, and stumble across an invaluable post.  Now, the person who posted it I'm sure wasn't thinking, "Yep... Laura... She needs this."  But I'm so glad that they found it important enough to share because I'm learning that there is no guide to step-parenting... or parenting in general.  How did my mom do it alone?!  So the article is here.  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rachel-macy-stafford/the-important-thing-about-yelling_b_4484027.html  Go Ahead, I'll wait while you read it.

Now, I don't have any kids of my own... I have Graylee... my dog.  That's my child.  But I was blessed enough to find a husband (super dad) that had two BEAUTIFUL children that he handpicked me to help raise.  WOW.  If that isn't an ego boost, I'm not sure where you will ever find one.  So, I start out the fun mom.  The mom that doesn't get frustrated, sad, or aggravated.  That's good, right?  Well, then I start in on trying to fix everything.  Even things that aren't broken in my family.  Trying to be a perfectionist when I know, there's no reason.  I guess because I want to be super mom.  I want to be the mom that my kids deserve, need, and want.  I want to be the one that fixes boo-boos and one good night kiss will never do.  So I put PILE insane loads of pressure on myself to be perfect, because after all, who can love me if I'm not perfect.  (Wow... what a way to think.)  I forget that the memories I'm missing by getting angry and upset that everything's a mess or I've now had to repeat myself 30 times are far more important and precious than the 30 seconds of being the EVIL STEP MONSTER.  I struggle with finding enough patience to get through some days.  And that was a tough sentence to be honest and write.

I see my husband so carefree and able to handle any situation with NO STRESS and calmly get everything under control... EVEN ME, and I'm jealous.  I get more mad at myself for not being more patient and calm and collected.  But then again, I say that he's been doing this since the kids were babies and has earned the patience.  I think that's just to make myself feel better because that man I married is a saint.  HONESTLY.

My kids are beautiful.  INSIDE and OUT.  I'm being the most sincere person when I say that.  I love them to depths which I never knew existed and I love them as if I carried them in my womb for 9 months.  They are everything to me, like my husband is.  They are sweet and considerate.  But they also have quite the knack for sarcasm.  haha!  I like to give that credit to my husband, but I'm just as much to blame.  They are kids; they get tired; they get grouchy; they just wanna hang out sometimes.  All things I do.  But it seems easier for me to get upset with them than to realize they are just like us.  This is all very hard for me to admit but I struggle.  A LOT.  With a lot of things.  So I tell you all this to say that I'm making a promise to God, all who might read this, and most importantly my kids.

I promise to spend less time yelling and more time laughing.
I promise to put my phone down and play games more often.
I promise to put myself in your shoes before I think I need to be perfect.
I promise we can clean up that mess together and make it fun.
I promise to be the momma who kisses your boo-boos and one good night kiss is NEVER enough.
I promise to show you love through the way I love your daddy and honor him.
I promise to use sarcasm less and use sweet words more.
I promise you that I will love you to the ends of the earth.
I promise to provide you with a home you will never want to leave.
I promise to give you so many kisses and hugs that you will be sick of them.
I promise to be slow to anger and quick for hugs.

Now, I ask one thing in return... patience for letting me get all these promises in line.  I can change and do this, but need help.  But I promise I won't be afraid to ask for it.

Please friends, go hug your babies and honeys tight and let them know that you will always be there... even in  your grouchy moods.

{lou}

One Month, Five Days...

It's been 17 years since I started 6th grade and didn't have any friends.  August 15th, 1996, I started a brand new school with not a single friend from elementary school... and there was a group of guys and girls sitting around.  I was too shy to go over to.  But you made sure that I was befriended.  I was almost 12 years old and you were one of my very best friends.

It has been around 15 years since you convinced me that it was a good idea to walk 3 miles to go to the lake and go fishing with you... and I got scared to walk so I had my grandpa drive me.  It's been that long since you drove that four wheeler with our other friend on it and wrecked it into a ditch.  I can still remember you teaching my little brother all those things that no 7 year old should know.  He still remembers all the stuff you taught him... guess that's why mom never had to have the "birds and bees" talk with him.  haha!

It's been about 13 years since you were cracking jokes at me but would fight to the death against anyone who would say anything bad about me.  We'd hang out in the hall way and pass notes not only to each other to make it through the day but to all our friends... Your notes were always about three sentences long... which for you, was a novel.

It's been 9 years since all your "trust me guys, this is gonna be my best idea ever" statement always turned what was actually terrible ideas into some of the best memories I have.  You helped turn rainy stormy nights into 5 girls "grass" wrestling; lawn chairs in the garage into lawn chairs in the bed of a pick up driving down dirt roads because we couldn't get in trouble with anyone but county mounties once we were not on paved streets; setting the microwave timer to move our cars up 1 inch on the street so the cops wouldn't come by and mark the tires for being in the street too long; the all guys canoe trip that turned into trying to auction off myself and my best girlfriend for the most beers on the river;  and hurry get in the truck before her mom rips your face off was said to me while helping our friend move out of her mom's house, among the other ideas that could have gone horribly awry.

It's been 2 years, since I saw you and we weren't able to catch up.  It's been 2 months since I heard the last voicemail I'd ever get from you.

Your life mattered to so many people.  Without you, there's so many years of my life that wouldn't have been some of the best memories I've ever had.   So, it's been one month and five days since I got off a plane in Philadelphia and got news that you weren't here anymore.  It's been one month and five days since I was standing in that airport breathless because you were gone.  It's been one month and five days since I've been able to drive my normal way home.  It's been one month and five days since I've been able to go about life "normally".  It's been 5 days since I stopped being mad about it all.  I pray that you are in heaven waiting for the rest of us... and I promise you, you will get slugged in the arm when I see you next.

Some truths about skinny girls....

Laura Perrin in your.....uh..... EYES(?)!   Trying to debunk some myths about some skinny girls...
The only reason I'm wrecking your Monday with this is because, when I went to my "fat-shake-a-lator" machine... we walked in and I heard someone say, "seriously, why's SHE here..."  (FYI - LOST 7 INCHES ON THIS MACHINE) Now, for those of you who have eaten with me... you know, I can put away some food.  I seriously eat like 4,000 times a day and it's not all green bean and ice... YES GREEN BEAN (Singular)!  I will eat some bagels, cream cheese, fruit snacks... oh honey, you don't wanna know what this girl eats in a day... I probably consume about 3,000 calories a day.

SO NO, I'm not anorexic, bulimic, a head case, too into myself.... etc.

Skinny Girls hate things about themselves too...

Things I hate about being my size:
1. EVERY jean manufacturer thinks that if you are a 0 - 4 - that you are 5'11".
2. Cleavage... Yeah, I've heard a rumor that it does exist in nature naturally... but not when your girls are hiding... hahaha!
3. Snickers when you walk into a room showing off an outfit that took 45 minutes for you to feel comfortable enough to leave the bathroom in.
4. I actually think most skinny girls are not that attractive... I think curves are awesome... I'll let you know when I find some other than the winding roads of Arkansas.
5. That all the shirts are made for girls that are about 13 years old with glitter and butterflies and peace signs.
6. I HATE my thighs... You see twig thighs and bird legs... I see two armadillos fighting over some food...
7.  I swear that there is a 900lb woman deep inside me, screaming to get out and the only way to quiet her is to feed her... LOTS!
8. I hate being called TINY.   HATE IT!
9. People asking if you are hungry... Seriously, like I don't have the ability to feed myself.  COME ON!
10. I can give clothes that are "too" small for me to our 8 yr old daughter.
11. "Why do you work out?"  That's like asking me why I breathe... I need exercise... just like everyone else on the planet... being thin does not excuse you from needing to build muscles, strengthen your core, etc.
12. Why do I only look good in the poorly lit bathroom mirror that hangs to the side?  But the second I'm out in public and see a mirror, I literally run from it because when I look in it, I say, "holy smokes... you left looking like this?"
13. YES, SKINNY GIRLS CAN HAVE CELLULITE!  I have some... I'll show you sometime.
14. Yes, in certain jeans, this lady has a muffin top.
15.  I hate my stomach.  It's worse than those thighs I mentioned earlier.
16. I don't understand the misconception that thin girls (genetically thin) are rude, stuck up, fake, etc.

I'm sure I'll add to this list later, but for now, those are my biggest issues with people and their thoughts about girls my size... Yes, thin girls have self esteem issues... TRUST ME!

Please though, enjoy how beautiful you are... no matter what size... You were created for a reason... don't listen to the negative, whether it comes from yourself or someone else... You are exactly how you are supposed to be.  You fit into the world, how you were made to... God doesn't make mistakes.  

{lou}

Be VERY careful what you pray for...

So, not everyone knows that on December 31st, 2012, I got married to a super awesome man.  He's my best friend and completer... I also married into two awesome kids.  A little girl and a little boy.  I had the most perfect wedding with awesome people with us on the beach... We wrote our vows (some of us more planned than others... ::COUGH COUGH:: HUSBAND!)  But they were perfect.  It was all so perfect!  I mean, look at these pictures... PERFECT!

Have you ever seen love like this!  I can't even fake that smile!!

And to have one of my longest term besties with me... GETOUTTAHERE!

This is my life now.  These three beautiful humans!

Pretty awesome if you ask me... and since this is MY blog... you did!  :)  But all that to say, I pray... A lot.  I mean, if God's ears could be bent off, I would have one in my hand... like a lucky rabbit's foot key chain.   So my prayers have changed though.  They went from things about me, my immediate family, friends, simple things, to things that will help me raise these beautiful babies!  I've never been a mommy... and NO ONE EVER tells you that, it's the hardest thing and that you don't just fall into it and have the patience of a saint.  That's not in the instruction manual.   I mean, sure, they tell you being a mommy is the hardest job you'll ever love... but they don't say, you will want to rip your hair out sometimes.  Those sweet baby angels you saw at their best at all times, won't always have those good days.  So, again, I say, I pray.  In the car, in the shower, getting out of bed... it doesn't really matter.  So, I have this BRILLIANT idea... I'm finding myself with less patience than Boedy, so I'm gonna ask God for patience.  HA!  God just had to love that request.  I mean it has to be something funny for him to watch.   You know, when you pray, you have to be specific... If you ask for money, and you get a nickle... that's still God answering your prayer.  That's all there is to it.  So, I forget this small detail and say, "Lord, you've blessed me with kids that you know I've always wanted... now help me to find the patience."  Well, He's helping me "FIND" it.  I didn't ask, "Lord, Please Immediately grant me patience of that of a well seasoned parent/Jesus."  So He's helping me find it... I get tested at every chance... when I'm tired, cranky, cooking dinner, washing clothes, going to the bathroom... I'm finding it.  I never understood how precious those few minutes of being in the shower by yourself really are until I'm asking God for patience and I hear the sweet sounds of my kids outside the door... "Momma Lou, are you in there?  When will you be done?  Bronx is being mean again."  "No, I'm not, Brooke is lying."  and so on and so forth.  But when I lay my head down at night next to my husband, I simply just find the energy to Thank God for these sweet babies.  And When I wake up in the morning, across the bed from my husband but somehow holding his hand when I didn't even know I grabbed it in the middle of the night, I know that I'm not alone.  God gave me this perfect match and these perfect tests.  I learn so much about faith from my kids... Brooke has more faith than I've seen in a long time.  And Bronx is getting there.  God builds faith daily, but have we stopped to realize he's working? 

So, I'm gonna leave you with this thought, God is always listening... (much like your kids) be careful what you are asking for and saying... And stop and take time to see how hard he's trying to build your faith in him.  It's Amazing!!

{lou}

Grandpa Goldfish and his forgetful foe... the battle rages.

This is a true story about how love is the strongest force ever... and how it can never be defeated if, in fact, it is true and genuine.

So there are those of you who know the story behind Grandpa Goldfish... this is my mother's daddy... basically the man who helped raise me... who took me to get stitches two of the three times I've gotten them.  The man that was my "daddy" too.  The one who had a temper like 1,000 sailors but the loving gentle soul like that of a handmade quilt.  The one man that I could count on growing up.  He would never let me down.  The father I never had...  The one I could go to for advice or the bitter truth.  The man I saw cry only once in my lifetime because his hard life wouldn't allow for him to shed a tear.  A man that went to war and fought for our freedoms and had a tank roll over on him.  Tough as Nails... but has the biggest heart anyone can imagine.

Okay, you have to understand that my grandfather was born in 1923 and didn't get passed the 3rd grade in school. The great depression hit them hard and he worked to take care of his siblings and his family.  He's a hardworking man.   I don't know the exact story of how he met my grandmother, but I do know that it was a whirlwind romance.  They fell in love so hard.  They used to sneak out, he said, and go "neck it" on the corner of two corn fields in South Dakota.   My gramma is 9 years younger than him, WHAT A SCANDAL!   haha!  Anyway, they've been married for around 465 years now, honestly, I think it's approaching 60 years... and love each other more than ever before.  They've been through things that would have caused people in this day and age to get divorced.  They had two beautiful daughters and now have 5 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren.  My grandfather wakes up every day now and fights to remember where he is.  He's in the earlier stages of Alzheimer's... and let me tell you... that's the meanest disease that was ever put on this earth.  We started calling him Grandpa Goldfish when he was in the early stages of dementia because, for example, he would get a birthday card, open it, read it, show my gramma, put it back in the envelope, stare around the room for a minute, see he had a birthday card, open it, read it, show it to my gramma... well, you get the picture.  He would repeat this until Gramma would take it away because it was a surprise to him every time he would open it... a memory like a .... GOLDFISH!  :)  Two times ago when my brother went to visit, we realized it was getting worse... his memory was fleeting.  He didn't recognize my brother... After my brother left his visit with my grandparents, my grampa looked at gramma and said, "Who was that nice boy that came to visit us?"  BROKE. MY. HEART.  I went to visit a few weeks ago and he called my Tiny... that's my mom's nickname...  that's how much of his current memory he has lost.  He thinks my mom is 28 again.   He called my mom Mavis - who is her cousin.  But I have to keep reminding myself that it's not his memory of us at this point, it's ours of him.

So, all that to get to the most important part of this story... This man, this wonderfully forgetful, fleeting memory staple to our family... Last April, my mom, gramma, grampa and I went to South Dakota (where my family is from) to attend the funeral of my grampa's sister in law.  He didn't recognize her by the way.  But the sweetest thing I will always keep with me is how much he truly loves my grandmother... On our way back, I was driving the car and he looked at me (like he remembered me) and said "Toaty, do you know what the best part about having grandkids is?"  I said, "No, grampa but please tell me so I'll know when I get to have some."  He said, "The absolute BEST part about having grandkids is they get to drive their gramma and grampa around so they can hold hands."  And he grabbed my gramma's hand and kissed her knuckles.  While his memory is fading at a rapid pace, he always knows how much he loves every second with my gramma.  Every day he tells her that he can't believe he got the best looking girl in all the world and that she loves him.  He tells her that she's more beautiful today than she was when he first laid eyes on her.  I truly believe that nothing will ever erase that memory for him of how much he truly loves that woman.  And she stays faithfully by his side, health and mind going, unwavering from the man that she couldn't imagine life without.

So I tell you that to prove that NOTHING CAN DEFEAT TRUE LOVE... Not even Alzheimer's.

P.S. It's never too late or too early to tell the ones you care about, exactly how you feel for them... but even better than telling them... SHOW THEM!

I'm going to kiss my honey and cuddle our babies now.

The day the media got bored and decided to see how many people could fight over nothing...

If I have to read one more thing about Chick-fil-a… I’m going to lose my mind.  Considering just becoming a hermit for a few days until everyone is over all this Chick-fil-a hurt my feelings business...

I am just sick of everyone fighting over something that no one can change.  Let the Mr Cathy have his strong Christian beliefs.  At least when his judgment day comes, he’ll know he stood for something instead of falling for anything.  We should all be so lucky.  These days, the general population goes for the politically correct thing instead of what they were taught and believed in.  Did anyone ever realize that no one is getting all butt hurt over Muslims owning a franchise that has the same views.  Oh, that’s because they are Muslim and we can’t discriminate against them.   I have gay friends and gay family members, AND I love them to countless measures and their lifestyle has no bearing, nor does it change how I feel about them!!  The good news is I can still love them and have my beliefs… It's not up to me to pass judgment so, I think I'll leave that task to the power that does know how to judge to a standard that is far above all my imperfections.  Let me ask this: what is not eating a chicken sandwich gonna prove?  Are you gonna hold up your non-Chick-fil-a receipt to all your gay friends dated August 1, 2012 and say, “lookie here… I’m so awesome.  I didn't eat there on that day when the media made a huge thing out of nothing because they were having a slow news day.  But I ate there for the years before.  And in a few years, when I forget about this, I’ll probably swing through for a nice cup of sweet tea.”  Move on, we all have more important things to worry about than who showed up, who didn't, and who lied about it.

Please, oh please, just enjoy your loved ones; gay, straight, Jewish, black, white, brown, yellow; without wondering who is going to get offended by it.  Jesus taught love... so why aren't we all doing more of that and less condemning of others.  Maybe we should all take some time out and think about the people... who are they to us, regardless of their lifestyle.  My friends are my friends for who they are to me... no one is going to change that.   I love them all... gay, straight, Jewish, black, white, brown, yellow, blind, deaf, diabetic, whatever the case may be.

Whew!  Can someone bring me a step ladder... I may have made this soap box a little tall so people could see me over the other ones.

{lou}