Birthday Boy and Time

Dear Sweetboy,

You have just turned eleven.

Number one. Twice.

I’m not sure how that happened.

Five short years from now, you can potentially get a driver’s license. Voting rights are yours to claim in only seven years. Middle school beckons and high school looms.

Give me a minute.

In a few short weeks, you will wave goodbye to elementary school and enter full on tweendom at the intermediate school.

I want to shake my fist at time. It’s moving too fast.

I’m thankful that stuffed animals and hugs are still preferred over closed doors and hasty exits.

Each month, lately, I feel like you make some new cognitive leap or self discovery. I’m trying to acclimate to your current speed.

I could do that a lot easier if time would just slow down, already!

You’ve begun to blush at any romance, onscreen.  And, “I don’t want to talk about that!” is peppering some of our conversations. Sarcasm is gaining appeal in the books you read and the shows you watch. I’m quoting you here, child. “I’m not a fan of that.”

You still need me. I’ll be honest. That is comforting.  It means that you are still young enough to not have it all figured out yet.

Have I mentioned that I would also very much like for time to stand still?

I know you want to be able to do some of these new things in life on your own. Go for it!

Just know this – we will always have your back.

We are a team.

And although there is no “i” in team, there is a “u”.

You know I love you so much. You told me so, just the other day.

I hope you always remember that.

Always.

Happy Eleven, Sweetboy.  You’re gonna ROCK this!

Love,

Mama

P.S. If you need me, I’ll be taking all of the batteries out of the clocks. Everywhere.

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What Does This Present Say About Me?

We did this around here, this weekend.

Birthday_2013_Missindeedy

Also? The table apparently borrowed some legs from the chair. It happens.

Apparently, I need a place to get my chatty on, my happy needs more hours (hat tip to The Nana), and I like to eat cake alone.

Sounds about right.

That “gossip bench” is thanks to a sweet friend who refinishes furniture to look all sorts of pretty.  I’ve been salivating over casually eyeballing this chatty cathy for the better part of the month.  I thought she had sold it! But no; she’d made arrangements, sneaky SWEET friend, with Sweetman, to leave it for me inside the house while we were out on Saturday.  Only, this happened:

Text_J_to_M_Missindeedy

And, that’s a true friend, right there, folks.  You know why?  She makes a mean salsa! But, the recipe calls for lots of white onion.  And raw white onion and my stomach are mortal enemies.  Plus, any chance of a smooch from the hubs after ingesting onions goes right. down. the. drain.  Along with the contents of my stomach. And, I really don’t think there’s anything else to tell you about that. You’re welcome.

On another note, those flowers up there have a sweet back story. My Gramma has sent me flowers in a tea-cup every year for 26 years now.  It’s a beautiful tradition that I look forward to every year. Ahab and The Nana house a few of them down in Florida, I’ve got a dozen in storage, and we’ve got enough in our house right this minute, that I could throw one heck-uv-a tea party! Anyone up for a cuppa?

In other news, we have some interesting new phrases around this house.  One goes a little something like this: “Oh Glordy!”

The first time I heard Sweetgirl utter this, I was confused, as you can imagine.

“What is glordy?”, I asked her.

“You know, mama! You say it all the time!”, she replied.

What’s that now?

“Do you mean, ‘Glory’? Or do you mean ‘Good Lord’?”, I asked. (Let it be known that I am nailing the Whatchamacallit Speak she’s been doing lately.)

“Yes.” (Why does the child have to be short on words when I need her not to be?)

Alrighty then.

Sweetboy, also taught me a new phrase.

“I used your toothpaste, Mama. And it was so minty that it brought tears for my eyes.”, he informed me with, sure enough, tears in his eyes.

“Oh. I see it made your eyes tear up.”.  (I like to clarify things when I can.)

“No. It brought tears for my eyes.”, he insisted.

If you insist, child.

We also capped the weekend with a delicious meal with friends.  They cooked an authentic Italian “meat sauce” for pasta. It was delicious and filled with homemade meatballs and sausage and pork. It had Sweetman reminiscing about the Glordy days with all of his Aunts every Sunday growing up in Rhode Island.  It nearly brought tears for his eyes, I tell ya.

Yes indeedy!

What were you up to this weekend?  And, maybe more importantly, anyone got a mean salsa recipe that doesn’t require any (or much) onion???

Decades and Celebrations

It’s Memorial Day.  You might have figured that out.

We’ve known for, oh… 74 days now, that Memorial Day was going to fall on a Monday.  And that meant, therefore, that there would be no school on that particular Monday.  And that made this guy, below here – deliriously happy!

No school? And a vacation day for daddy? And his birthday?

Could it get any better than that?

I think not.

Neither does he.

He_is_10_missindeedyTen years ago, today, this little guy struggled mightily to come into the world.  He brought smiles out with him.  He brings smiles with him, wherever he goes, even now.  His laugh is downright infectious.  His smile lights up a room (and our world).  He is caring and kind, and has a sense of humor that everyone gets a kick out of.

Most of all, though?

He is ours.

And we can’t believe that we are celebrating a decade of life with this handsome, quirky, smart, compassionate, and funny child.

Happy Birthday, Sweetboy!

We pray that God pours joy into your heart this year and draws you closer to His.

We love you so.

Yes indeedy!

We Need More Sock Puppets

This week has been so tumultuous.  I’m trusting in this, right here:

via Pinterest via Renee Swope

So… I thought we could all do with a joyful little story.  Here ya go.

A week before Sweetgirl turned five, The Nana kept telling us to watch the mail for her card.  I thought it was odd that she would make a bunch of fanfare about a card, but thought it wise to indulge her. I am nothing if not respectful of thy mother.

Each day, we eagerly checked the mailbox for a card from The Nana.

Nothing. Nada. Zilch!

And then, one day, this arrived:

Slipperfoot_Collage_Missindeedy

And we instantly understood.

Is this not the most fabulous card?  I’m not sure who played with Princess Slipperfoot more, me or Sweetgirl.

Therefore, I do believe we need more sock puppets.  It’s fun for the whole family.

Or, at least, for me.

And, a note to The Nana – I will never doubt your enthusiasm for a card, again.

One Withered Fig

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Sometimes,  a girl can get into a downright funk about her age. Can I get an amen?

I’m talkin’  a “one square of chocolate ain’t gonna cut it today, folks!” kind of funk.

I’ve been experiencing a few growing pains, lately.  As in, my age… It is growing.

Please, don’t misunderstand me here.  I knew it was an inevitability.  I just thought it wouldn’t be quite so painful.  Turning 30 was a piece of cake.  Turning 40 was an even bigger piece of cake!  And I’ve taken pride in my ability to weather each new birthday with All The Laughter.

But this year, I face 42.

And, I’m feelin’ it y’all!  I got The Nostalgia the other day when I heard  Mike & The Mechanics’, “The Living Years”.  Immediately, I started to get all “Is this what almost half a lifetime looks like?”, with a side of “Who is that old lady in the mirror?”.

In the midst of all my moaning and groaning, though, there was a Small Still Voice whispering in my ear. And this is what it brought to mind:

“Let all that I am praise the Lord;
may I never forget the good things he does for me.”

Psalm 103:2 (NLT)

That brought all my caterwauling to a skidding halt! Because, there are so many good things.  Another Bible translation reads, “and forget not all His benefits.”

Sometimes, my life oozes the benefits of God, but I’m so stinkin’ wrapped up in this world’s vision of Worth, that I can’t see them.

I see them right now. Today I choose to focus on:

His steadfast presence even when I stalk away in a huff

His strength for every stinkin’ moment that I am weak or unable or unwilling

His grace in spades for this messed up little girl of His

His mercies new every single morning that He gives me breath again

His everlasting love for me exactly as I am and where I am

His patience with me as He continues to refine me

His blood poured out for me despite my sin

Whether I’ve accomplished much in the world’s eyes, doesn’t matter one withered fig to our God.

I can’t help but imagine that I must be fairly ripe (in the very best sense, of course, because otherwise, EWW!), because I certainly feel like He’s been using me lately.

And I love that! I love being used by God. Pick me! Pick me, God!  I am yours for the picking!

I believe I’ve officially written myself out of my funk, because 42 isn’t looking so bad.

Indeed.

Do any upcoming birthdays feel like they’re looming for you?  What helps you get a fresh perspective?

What a Weekend!

We were uber-busy this past week.  I’m surprised I didn’t collapse before Sunday. But God is good.  He held me together right up until yesterday.  Then, I was down for the count.  But, like one of those bouncy punchy bopper thingies (I really can’t think of the name of that thing to save my life! Anyone???) , I’m back up and at em’ today.

We celebrated Sweetgirl’s 5th birthday on Friday.  Her party was on Saturday, and can we all just agree that ten 4 and 5-year-olds hyped up on cake and dancing like they’re 12 is enough to push any parent over the edge?  Can we?!

I am going to try to just hit the highlights here, but my favorite was, by far, Sweetgirl’s blue hair.  It was just fun! And so… her! We used a product called Hair Chalk.  Have you ever?  Me neither. But, I’m here to inform.  And entertain.  But for now, inform.  So, Hair Flairs Color Chalk is what we used.  It goes on very easily by rubbing it directly onto the hair to be colored.  Lessons learned?  1) Wear rubber gloves.  2) Do not allow the hair to touch ANYTHING in your house for the next few hours.  (Let’s just say that there are a few places on the walls and couches that are a lovely shade of aqua.  I’m going to pretend they aren’t there until they go away on their own.  Good strategy?)

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And then, on Saturday, we partied like it was 1999.  Only, it was 2013.  And the party people were the Under Six Crowd.  Mercy…

Birthday_Girl_Tink

The Gammy and The Grampa had driven up for he occasion and I think I can state with some level of certainty that by party’s end, we all just wanted to lay down where we were and sleep until 2015.

But, there was leftover cake to be had.  And we do not ever waste cake in this house.  Indeed.  It’s actually considered illegal in this family.  According to law #8 section 22 of the Missindeedy Family Laws and Codes… Oh, kidding!  But, for realz, we don’t waste cake.  Someone worked hard to make this thing of beauty.

Bday_Cake_5

Anyone hungry?  We have approximately half of a half sheet cake left over.  And I refuse to eat another 3 pieces in one sitting piece. Let it never be said that I don’t know how to share.

Happy Monday!

Living in The After

We celebrate Sweetgirl’s 5th birthday today (Friday).  So, I’m up late preparing.  I thought I’d take an extra 5 minutes to write with my friends over at Lisa-Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday community.  I’ve missed them so.  Click the button below to join in or to read what was written in a frenzy of unedited heart-to-fingertip-to-keyboard minutes.

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AFTER

GO…

He_Is_Risen_Missindeedy_Blog

It’s taken far too long for me to exhale. Moving into new diagnosis and new stages of development and awareness and territory.  I realize, now, that I have held my breath for far too long.  My days of mothering, loving, moving in and through and maybe, most of all, my days of Dark, have caught up to me.

After I exhale, I realize that what I needed is not what I had thought at all.

It is not more hours.

It is not more cooperation.

It is not even more love.

What it is, that I need, is to recapture the joy.

There is joy in the morning.

And I had forgotten.

It took a Sunday of rejoicing and pondering what all happened after the pierced nails wouldn’t hold, for me to get it.

He did that so that I could do exactly this.

And that?  That is cause for joy.

Oh, yes indeedy!  And I am going to slather myself in the joy of this rememberance.

For it is a time of celebration.

A birthday.

And, a new beginning.

And, also? A realization, and no small one, that because of what was accomplished after that horrendous Friday at Calvary, I can joyfully go about my days.

No more holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It already has.

And He won.

I forgot.

But I remember, now, that I’m living in The After.