The Blue Ornament

I'm sitting here, wrapping presents and starting at my Christmas tree. The one my daughter and I took such care and time to decorate together. The one she has since decorated (and undecorated) each day since. The one that has brought her so much joy over the last couple of weeks. And it makes me happy. It makes me happy to put more presents under the tree for my husband and to fix the ornaments the way I like them and to have the presents arranged so that the whole thing looks pretty.
But about 3/4 of the way up that tree is a dark blue ornament with a white ribbon. And on that ornament is written "Josh 1988-2008" You see, you could take every meticulously placed blue, silver, and red ornaments off of that tree. You could take all the things off that Abbie and I worked so hard to put in the right place. You could tear the star off the top and unwrap all the lights. You could take the presents out and take away the skirt at the bottom of the tree.
But if you left that one blue ornament there, all alone on that tree, it would look the same to me as it does right now. Because when I look at that tree, that blue ornament might as well be all that is there. The less than 20 years my brother lived might as well be the only thing staring me in the face. And as far as I'm concerned, memories of his face could replace those presents. The candy canes could be snippets of his voice and every twinkling light could be his laughter. Everything about this wonderful tree reminds me that he is not here. And that he never will be for another Christmas. Everything on and under and around that tree reminds me that, while I'm here on earth, I'll never see him smile again or hear him laugh. He'll never pick my daughter up or tell another silly joke. Not here.
But it also reminds me of Jesus's sweet birthday. It reminds me of a time when there were no decorated Christmas trees. No tricked out light shows on every other house on the block. And when a humble man and woman brought a perfectly innocent and vulnerable baby into this world in a stable. When they wrapped him in cloth and laid him in a manger. It reminds me how gifts were brought to him and how we now give gifts to the ones we love today. That tree in my foyer reminds me of a precious baby that would grow into a man. A man who would die for my sins so that I might be saved from all of the many wrong things I have done. And because of that baby, because of that gift, I will see all the things that my Christmas tree represents.
I WILL see my brother smile again. And he will run and grab my daughter in his arms and swing her around. And he will laugh and he will tell jokes and he will be beautiful. I won't see those things here again. I'll have to wait. But that's okay because the best gifts are worth waiting for.
So this Christmas I will remember the joy that our tree brings. I vow to look to the promises of God and not of this earth. I promise to remember the treasures I have here on earth and in Heaven. And I promise to never forget how important the blue ornament is.

Everything's gonna be all right...

I talked to one of my old friends tonight. One of my old, old friends. We haven't spoken in at least a year or two. And my stomach lurched when she messaged me because we don't usually talk unless someone has died. And although I was actually praying that she was getting in contact with me to break news I already knew (that my first and high school boyfriend had died over the weekend), I was also terrified that she had something to add to that. And I am at my breaking point. I could not handle that. But I took a few deep breaths and answered her call.
Thank goodness, it was the news I already had (Obviously, the news itself is devastating. But I was glad to not have anything in addition to it).
And we rehashed some of the awful things we did and saw during those years in that small town that we've both since escaped. And it was obvious that these things have haunted us for years and that they still continue to do so even when we're hundreds of miles away.
But as we talked, we rejoiced more in where we've come rather than where we've been. She is successful in work and in life and is even considering going to graduate school. I am practically a soccer mom, with my "little family" (her words ;)) and my teaching aspirations.
And as we got off the phone, I realized. We're going to be all right.
In a lot of ways, we're lucky to have survived. The decisions we made were ridiculously stupid. And the people we hung around were unbelievably wrong. And yes, it sucks (excuse my language ;)) to have to hear about some of the people we once called such close friends passing away so young. But we're thankful that we've turned our lives around. And we know that that is the only thing within our control. The best we can do is to pray that God gives us the ability to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference (Yes, one of my favorite prayers and the words currently hanging in my bathroom).
Life goes up and down. Some days we have to pray much harder than other days. And others we have nothing else to cling to but the gratefulness that we made it out of something alive. But we're going to be all right.

Tonight, I blog...

Not because I have anything extra-special or any cute little anecdotes to throw out there. But just because. Because my other internet forms of communication/entertainment have worn on my last nerve and and make me feel void of morality. :-P So here I am.
And I'm feeling crummy. I feel crummy because I made the crazy decision to go to a great friend's house last night and watch the Cowboys game. And because I was up until 1 am, which is just insane for me ;)
And because I got called by a sweet teacher this morning, asking if I could substitute for her. Which I was HAPPY to do. But alas, I am cursed with the inability to barely function (much less make it past 3-4 pm) on less than 8-10 hours of sleep. And I have spent my evening at home resting and trying to pump my body full of energizing calories and minerals/vitamins to regain just a little bit of my energy.
And I say all of this to say that it makes me worry. Because one day, I *will* have more than one child. And I *will* have to go to work 5 days a week for at least 40 hours or more. And I've done all of this before, but I worry about how I'm going to hold up. And I worry about what I need to do on a daily basis to maintain my health, energy, and sanity. and I hope I'll figure it out before we are done having kids ;) ;) ;)
And, in the spirit of randomness... all of this makes me think about the incredible amount of time our society spends on nearly mindless activities, like the majority of what we use the internet for. And no, it doesn't take sleep-depriviation or a feeling of disgust over gossip websites to bring this realization about. It's just an addition to what's going on in the head of Me tonight. Because that's the only reason you ever tune into my blog, right? To know what's going on in my crazy head? ;)
Have a great night! And sign off the internet early to read a book! ;) :)
Melissa

Crunchy what?

Go back 3 years in time. And while you're there, find me. And read me this:
Three years from now, you might be called crunchy by some. Go and find a reliable internet source and find out what "crunchy" means. Because you don't currently know.
Three years from now, you won't be afraid to breastfeed in public anymore. And you'll have a much better idea of what you're doing. And a great support group :)
You'll be craving more babies so that you can birth them naturally(and maybe even at home!). You'll know about doulas and midwifes and you'll know that you defintely want a doula for your next birth. You know, so you *don't* have to lay flat on your back and make it almost to 8 cm dialated before breaking down and getting your epidural.
You'll be craving babies to wear around in Ergos and wraps and slings. (Yes, I'm aware that you have no idea what a wrap, sling or Ergo is).
You'll be talking to your husband about what it would be like to be able to homeschool your bright and wonderful 3-year-old. You'll be wondering if the day will ever come where you'll put aside your career (and hers) in elementary education and homeschool her.
You'll have a 3 year old sleeping in your bed. Because that's where she feels safest. And that's where you let her come when she had trouble sleeping tonight. And no, you're not spoiling her. And yes, she is a well-behaved and wonderfully independent child. But nothing beats the security and peace of curling up next to mommy and knowing she's there as you drift off into slumber- and that's what you gave her tonight when she needed it.

You'll be interested in Bento lunches and Moby wraps and a dozen other things that you don't even know how to pronounce yet. You won't think that cloth diapering is something that went out of style with poodle skirts.
You'll be wondering about what the future holds and there will still be lots of question marks. But you do know that it will include wearing your breast-feeding,co-sleeping babies, cuddling them, and giving them the best life you can. You'll know that being a mother is hard. And that there are days where you yell and cry and fall asleep while on duty. You'll know that it sucks to have to run around with bags under your eyes and to drag your argumentative, shoeless toddler around with you. But you'll know that there's nowhere else, and nobody else, that you'd rather be.

P.S. I'll probably faint from the utter confusion of what you've just told me, so bring some smelling salts with you. And oh yeah, please love me enough to give me a cut of the royalties you make off your time machine. ;)

Melissa

One of the weird things I do....

My parents had a big, leather chair that sat in their living room in TN.On either side of the chair are two large pockets. Apparently it became a favorite place of my little brother's. He'd sit and enjoy some good junk food and a cold beer. The chair was packed up and moved down here when the three of them moved. And it sat in storage for months. After my brother passed away, it was eventually unpacked and put into my parent's new home in the office. One day we randomly noticed that there were still things in the pockets. Candy wrappers mostly. And a cap to a bottled beer.
That chair's been unpacked for 2 years now. It sits upstairs in front of my desk, and I love it. Tonight I emptied the pockets. If it were anything else, I'd throw all the trash away immediately.
But I'll never throw them out. Because they bring back so many memories and images. I can see my brother sitting in that chair late at night, watching TV by himself. I can see him enjoying some of his favorite candies and leaning back with a beer. I can see him watching the History Channel or even late-night cartoons. I can see him playing video games or sitting there teasing my dad.
My brother was one of the most laid-back people you'd ever meet (and, on a side note, not an incredibly healthy eater ;)) He was a typical 19 year old boy and that big comfy chair was one of his favorite places in the house. To me, that chair freezes where he was at when he passed away. As long as I can sit in that chair, I can imagine him reclining in it with me. And when I lean my head back to better focus on the work on my desk, I can see him relaxing as far back as the chair would let him go. And if I reach down into those deep pockets, I can remember what an amazing person he was.

Where am I at?

It's been 2 years and almost 3 months to the day since I lost Josh. My mom called me the night she found him lifeless in the floor. And as my neighbor drove Abbie and I over there, I prayed as hard as I've ever prayed in my life. But somehow there was this stillness inside of me saying "he's gone". And since the day he left, it's almost been like he's been gone for years. I've always kind of seen it as a coping mechanism. Because to remember what it was like to have him here hurts so much that it's usually unbearable. To go back and remember what it was like for him to come walking through my back door or to have him play with my daughter is just too much. I can't remember what it's like to be able to call him and to hear his voice... to see him sleeping in my living room or to sit down and talk with him. I lost that almost as soon as he was gone.
But sometimes I go back there and I wonder "where am I in this process?" It seems as if I've been in acceptance for so long now. And I went through my stages. I was furious. I was depressed and I was angry. But sometimes I still feel like I never got past "that" place.
I have days where I can talk about Josh's death and go to his grave and it doesn't phase me. But it's when I talk about Josh's life that this weight feels like it's pressing me down into an unbelievably deep hole. And maybe these are thoughts better saved for a counselor. But it was on my mind. I'm not sure where I'm at 27 months later. But hopefully I figure it out one day.

I've Seen Fire and I've Seen Rain....

I've seen lonely days when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I'd see you again. A friend's FB post today reminded me of a classic James Taylor song that always makes me think of my brother. I never dreamed, at 19 years old, he'd be here one day and gone the next. After all the last few years prior to his death had brought me, I thought I was done with heartbreak. I thought, surely, I had paid my dues. But it just shows you never know. So just remember to hug and kiss and love the ones you take for granted. You never know who you might not see again.
Melissa

The Blonde reminisces...

We've all heard it said "The grass is always greener on the other side". But really, what the adage should read is "We always THINK the grass is greener on the other side" Cus that's what it means, right? If you truly understand the saying, you know the grass isn't REALLY greener.. In fact, that lush bermuda is usually just a mirage, a satan-sparked illusion that immediately turns to wilted, sticker-filled hay as soon as you jump that white-picket fence.
So why do we do it? Why do so many of us still reminisce about the past as if it was the best time in our lives? Why do we still long for things we once had? I mean, we gave them up for a reason... right? Why do we day dream about what could have been, what could be, or what's "out there" that we're missing out on?
Why do we google exes and take trips down memory lane?
I'm sure you're thinking I have an answer to all these questions, or at least a theory... But you would be wrong in that assumption. I don 't know. I don't know why some songs remind me of an ex-boyfriend. Yeah, he gave me butterflies in my stomach. But looking back, maybe I was just nauseous ;) But I could care less about someone who was so detrimental to me. So why?
No, my every day life doesn't give me butterflies all the time. It's not exciting and riveting and all the things I used to enjoy fleeting feelings of when I was youngER and single... But I wouldn't trade that crazy, roller-coaster of emotions life for the even crazier, stable life that I have now. I might give some of the responsibility and bills back... But I wouldn't change the people in my life at all. (Read: my husband hasn't ticked me off today ;))
So why do we reminisce? Why do we stare longingly at that greener grass from our toy-cluttered home? Why do we wonder "what if"? Human nature, I guess. Which makes me wonder when us humans are gonna get smarter... ;)
Have a good day,
Melissa

I am creating a new blog!!!

So I've tried my hand at a couple of blogs.. this one, a frugal wedding one, and another. At least one of them has flopped... due only to me not keeping up with it. I'd love to keep this one up and give it a new, interesting spin that would bring in more readers and keep my current followers interested :-P
But for now... I am excited about yet ANOTHER blog!!! And I feel this one will be the easiest to keep up out of all of my blogs b/c it will involved things going on every day with us! :D So coming soon.... My "Chasing the American Dream" blog will be debuting shortly! :D

I am a mother

I am a mother.
I drink a LOT of coffee. I would love to drink more alcohol, but I am often too tired. And have too much to get done.
I wear comfortable clothes. I sport a pony tail or up-do 99% of the time.
I am a mommy.
Spending way too much money at the grocery store is fun, but only if I get to do it kid-free.
I buy food, snacks, and clothes for everyone else and forget about myself.
My DVR is full of cartoons. There are about 600; the same 3 get played over and over.
I never know what to put or say when people ask what my hobbies are.
I am a mother.
I clean all the time and my house is never ready for company.
I smell poop even when it's not there.
I hear my child crying for me, even when I'm not with them.
I do not shower to use the restroom by myself.
I am a mommy.
I raise my voice often.
I am an expert on "good choices" and "bad choices".
I roll my eyes a lot.
I also get "bug eyes".. Bug eyes mean "you had better stop that NOW or BOTH of our heads are going to pop right off!" My head often feels like it could spin straight off my shoulders.
I am a mother.
I often wish that leashes and muzzles were not just appropriate for dogs.
I bask in silence when I can get it. I would absolutely pay for daily naps for my child. I would pay extra if I could take one too.
I am a mommy.
I have one of the hardest jobs and the most wonderful job in the world.
I love another person with every ounce of my being. I cherish my child every day and thank God that I get to be her mother.
I am constantly amazed at how smart, wonderful, sweet, and miraculous my child truly is.
And even if I do often wish I could give her away, muzzle her, or install a mute button in her, I am her mother.
And I wouldn't trade that title for anything.

The red head is driving the blonde crazy...

Heavy, heavy sighs... That is what you would hear coming out of my mouth if you were sitting next to me at my kitchen table. My sweet red head is approaching a new age and with it comes a whole new level of frustrating behaviors. Abbie is wonderfully independent and yet still very much a baby. She exercises that independence and, at the same time, clings to me so hard that I want to pull my hair out. Today has been a particularly hair-pulling day.
I wish I could count how many times Abbie has decided a crayon belonged on the walls or furniture in the last 48 hours. And I wish I could say that she DIDN'T add a little painted art to the crayola wall creations this afternoon. But no, I feel like I've been bent over all day cleaning off something from our light-colored walls.
And alas, I learn more as a mother as she grows more. I'm realizing, at this particular stage, how important organization of her space is. And how every part of her house needs a defined purpose. And that I have to let a lot of things go on a daily basis. And, last but not least, why valium is so popular. ;)
Have a great day,
Melissa

The truth shall set the Blonde Free....

For opening up my blog today, you will get to find out one of my deep, dark secrets. Don't get too excited... it's not juicy ;)
My secret is that I have panic attacks. They started almost 2 years ago after a severe reaction to an anti-depressant I had been put on to help me cope with losing my litle brother.
But the worst part is that they have gotten to the point where they control my life. I find myself not wanting to go places that are out of my "comfort zone" and I freak out when I have to commute in the rain or snow. This is a real problem for someone who has to be in class 3 days a week 50 miles away. I have missed classes because of the fact that I am simply too scared to go. Not too scared of driving or wrecking... but just of having the stress build up into a panic attack while I am on the road.
It is hard for most people to imagine living in this kind of fear. It truly, truly SUCKS. Panic attacks make you feel like you are dying. Literally. So you might be able to imagine why even the slightest possibility of having one terrifies me. That terror has caused me to go through countless preventive measures to ensure that I do not have them, including staying home when it rains just so I don't have to drive the 50 miles to Denton. I hate it and it's something I've been trying to get over for awhile now.
Well, today I feel like I took a giant leap in that direction. I had an 8 am midterm this morning, which meant backing out of class really was NOT an option. "I was going to school whether I liked it or not," I told myself in my best mommy voice. So I went through all the prepatory motions to keep my anxiety at a mimimum and set out in the nasty drizzle this morning.
I'm happy to report that I drove that 50 miles there and 50 miles back without a drop of anxiousness. I often go to God for the strength to get over these fears (or to change the weather- lol). And this morning I felt like he said "Melissa, I bring the sunshine and the rain. I'm putting you in this position for a reason. It's so that you can regain control of your life" And I feel like I did a little bit. I felt euphoric and victorious because the fear that typically grips me did not even get close to me today.
For other people, who don't think twice about travelling short or far distances and who could care less about driving in bad weather, bad traffic, etc.. this may all seem silly and crazy. But the problem is that, after a series of horrible panic attacks, it has become a real problem for me that stems much further than just being afraid to travel far distances in the rain. But today I took a big step in overcoming these obstacles, and typing it out is even more liberating. They say the truth shall set you free... Well I guess I've been freed now that all 19 of you (lol ;)) know my dirty little secret.
Have an amazing day!
Melisa

The Blonde brags about the Red Head...

So 2 nights ago, my little girl recited her first Bible verse. *Mommy swoon* We had just gotten out of the bath tub when she jumped up on the bed and said "Mama! Love is kind!"
"What?" I said, taken aback
"LOVE IS KIND!" she said, jumping around.
It was the first time she had ever recited any of her Bible verses from preschool, and it made me so happy.

Today I got to see her in action when I picked her up early from preschool (thank you, freak Texas blizzard!) and I just loved it! Not only do I LOVE being in the classroom with little kiddos, but it was so fun to see her doing her "curriculum". She loves it so much, and it makes me so happy to see her loving learning. And of course, to be learning her Bible. Well, as much as she can.. :)

This may actually be a 2-blog day because we will be going out and playing in the 6 inches of snow we've got soon. Have a great day everyone! God Bless!

Some blonde and red head memories...

And then of course our family has been through a lot of rough times as well.
Here is Abbie at our family gravesite the day after we buried Josh.

We actually buried Josh on the day of Abbie's 1st birthday. Some of our family was kind enough to go and get Abbie some Hostess cupcakes and a candle, along with some little gifts, so that she could celebrate her birthday at the reception following his funeral.

Here is Josh with Abbie. He used to often drop by just to see her and what she was doing that day

I got to thinking tonight about all that my little family has been through. Jeremy and I have been together going on just 4 short years. And yet we've been through so much. Here are a few pictures I found tonight from the first year of Abbie's life.
My favorite- Abbie and her uncle Josh.

One of the 1st times she scooted around

One of the 1st times she rolled over

Jeremy rocking Abbie to sleep when she was first born

Josh and I with our cousins



Jeremy and Abbie after she was first born- You can't really tell it here, but Jeremy looks SO young! (then again, so does Abbie ;))

the Blonde and the Red Head do wedding planning and stomach viruses

I wish this blog title was some sort of cutesy, play on words. But oh no, this is what is going on in our lives right now. Jeremy (yes, my husband of nearly 2 years) and I are in full-fledged wedding planning mode. We have never had a "formal ceremony" and the truth is... I want to wear my gorgeous princess dress darn it! :D lol. So we are trying to get all of that figured out, along with me starting my hardest semester of school ever. And to top it all off, we have had a stomach bug in the house. Abbie has puked more in the last week than she has her whole life. We went out for a nice dinner the other night, only to have it end with her spewing her guts all over me. I got to walk down the aisle of booths (truly a walk of shame) with all the other, kid-free adults looking at me and I was covered in puke. Bless her heart, she seems to have gotten over it pretty quickly. And she never complained- she was a great patient. Just couldn't keep much down for a few days. ;) She also got sick all over our bedroom, which was something new to us. But hey, I needed new pillows anyway. And apparently all of those grandmommy kisses were not such a great idea because Jeremy is currently driving home from Arlington with my poor mother... who couldn't even drive home because she was, in her words, "throwing up her toenails". Jeremy puked the other night at work, too, but the Dear Lord might have spared His favorite Garner because I have only suffered minor nausea. Just kidding about the favorite part- I'm not being blashpemous I promise :) So that's what's going on in our world. Thanks for dropping in! :D

The Man On The Side of the Road..

I was driving home from Denton yesterday when I saw an elderly man, nicely dressed, standing on the side of the road holding a sign. The sign read: "I NEED A JOB". Usually, I would just think how sad that was and start brainstorming what I could do for him. But I drove on, a little perplexed.
You see, I know this man. I've seen him at least 5 times over the last 4 years, holding similar or the same sign.
The first time I saw him around the corner from where we lived, I rushed home to copy down local job agencies for him and took it to him with a $20 bill. He hugged me, and from his voice, I could tell he was intellectually disabled.
Like I said, I've seen him many times since. Always holding the sign. Always dressed nicely, usually in a blue suit. And my heart breaks for him every time. And I always say a prayer for him.
But I wonder, too. Is there more to him than my naive mind wants to think about? Could the sweet, old man be addicted to alcohol or something else? Does he have a home? How does he travel? Why can't he find a job? If he can't find a better way to get a job, what else does he have trouble getting?
And yesterday it made me think about the fact that there are somethings in this world that I just don't and probably won't ever get. They're just beyond me, despite my natural curiosity. And obviously, I can't solve everyone's problems. But I can always say a good prayer and let someone who *does* know all take care of it.

My 2nd Holiday Season as an Only Child

I survived another holiday season without my brother. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I did. He's been gone a year and a half now, and it's hard to say where I'm at. I think about my baby brother every day. I wish he were here constantly. I see the grief, pain, and guilt in my parents' faces all the time. And I know we don't hurt as much as we did. But I don't miss him an ounce less than I did when he first passed away. It's still too much to think about how amazing he was and what life would be like with him here. It overwhelms me and it's just too much. So I don't because there's nothing I can do about it.
I know the next few weeks are going to be a whirlwind of activity, so I'm going today to visit him. I'm going to take some time by myself, probably feed the fish at the pond he is rested next to, and just talk to my brother. I'm hoping it will center me and bring me some peace I might need over the next few weeks.
Have a blessed day,
Melissa