I'm Building It Anyway...

I have been on a hiatus of sorts. I apologize for my unexcused absence...but I couldn't quite put into words what has been going on. I somehow found the words when I heard a song on the way home from church today.

We got it... THE CALL. Those of you who have checked in here over the past couple years know that we have been trying to adopt...waiting to be chosen by a birthmother...praying, wishing....dreaming of opening our hearts and home to another child.

Then it happened. The phone rang and the caller I.D. displayed the name of our adoption agency. My heart lept into my throat and I answered-- cautiously optimistic that this could be the call we had waited so long to receive.

It was.

"You have been selected..."

The words still ring in my ears.

My heart started beating furiously as the details unfolded. The birthmother is due at the end of November (Yep. In a matter of WEEKS, y'all...) and.............. it's a BOY.

Tears poured down my cheeks and I listened intently. We are scheduled to meet with the birthparents next week and then it will be a matter of waiting for the birth and for the waiting period (14 days) to make sure they don't change their mind after the baby is born. Frankly, that scares me to death. But, I firmly believe if this is the child that God has chosen for our family...it will work out. But, it's still a narrow tightrope of emotions that I have walked since we got the call.

Which leads me to the song.

Our friends and family have displayed a range of reactions to our news. All are thrilled beyond belief but, of course, many are worried that we might have our hearts broken if it falls through. I was leaning on the side of guarding my heart as well. Fearful of buying anything or getting the nursery ready. What if everything is in place and she changes her mind? I feared my heart might never recover.

Until this afternoon. Martina McBride's new song, "Anyway" came on the radio as I was driving. The lyrics spoke to me more than I can explain:

"You can spend your whole life building
Something from nothin'
One storm can come
And blow it all away

Build it anyway

You can chase a dream
That seems so out of reach
And you know it might not
Ever come your way

Dream it anyway

God is great
But sometimes life ain't good
And when I pray
It doesn't always turn out
Like I think it should

But I do it anyway.........."

****************************

I broke into sobs as I realized that this is the only chance I may ever have to experience a true "pregnancy." We adopted our first son at age 2 and it was wonderful in an entirely different way. This time will be unique in that we will be learning about formula and feeding and crib assembly. If I DON'T prepare now then I will be missing out on the joy of anticipation...the excitement of folding little bity footed pajama-thingies and marveling at the size of itty bitty clothes.

Yes, she could change her mind. But I want to be prepared in case she doesn't. I want to dream anyway...I want to love anyway... I want to decorate and fold baby blankets and "nest" anyway....

I can't believe it finally could be happening... I hope you'll come along on this journey with me.

:-), Katie

Catching Up

Alabama/LSU - well, the Tide DID roll and I haven't been that proud of our boys in a long time. They played their hearts out and both sides gave us a great football game to watch. It was an emotional roller coaster being there in the stands and, unfortunately, a late fumble cost us the game. But, I was thrilled to watch them play...the Crimson Tide made us proud!

Dog Tired-- I am in the middle of a twelve-week intensive dog training...but, I kid myself about the dog being trained. It's really ME that's getting trained! My German instructor intimidates the bajeebies outta me but it seems to be working. Our golden retriever pays attention to everything I do...we still have a ways to go but it does seem to be getting us on the right track.

Not All Roses-- a friend of mine wrote to me awhile back about only talking about the "pretty things" on my blog. Well, today has not been pretty with my 5-year old. He has talked back, gotten angry, pouted, given me the "ugly face" (which consists of a crinkled up nose and pouted out cheeks) all because he hasn't gotten his way. What's driving me looney lately is his constant "You LIKE it when I get in trouble..." or "You LIKE treating me like a baby!" or...the classic "You LIKE when I don't get to have fun!" Oh yeah, I love being the bad guy all the time... Everything is fine now that he's had a nap and had time to "cool off." But, I have discovered something. My getting mad at Daniel and talking in a raised voice (aka "yelling!")does nothing. What really gets his attention is when I stay calm, cool and collected. It drives him crazy. Hopefully, one of these days he'll recognize it as gentleness and that I really DO care about him more than I could ever put into words. One can only hope.

Balance-- OK, so I had to write about this one in verse:

Juggling all my many hats
Can drive a girl insane
And why I feel so torn sometimes
Can be hard to explain

It's all a game of balance
priorities and such
Knowing when I'm doing too little
And when I'm doing too much

The many responsibilities
Can pull and nag at me
But when I really think about it
It's pretty plain to see

That all the different hats I wear
I wear with pride indeed
I'm blessed beyond belief, my friends
It's a wonderful life I lead!

Sweet Home Alabama

We're headed to Alabama in just a little while. This weekend is one of the biggest, if not THE biggest, games of the year so far. In the realm of college football, this would be a HUGE win for us... Our new coach's old team is coming to town. LSU fans always make it interesting...even WHEN they're not out for blood. They're loud and crazy and it makes for a fun day whenever we play them at home. So..... that makes this weekend even bigger.

We can't wait.

The game is at 4:00 on Saturday but I'm sure my hubby will have us there at dawn-thirty to make sure we get a spot to tailgate. We'll then spend the days with friends eating ribs, watching other games and getting ready to cheer louder than we have in a very. long. time.

To non-football fans, it sounds a little over the top. Perhaps even a little shallow. But, having grown up in a family of loyal sports fans-- and then MARRYING one-- this has become a fun tradition for our family. We've developed a close network of friends who share our passion and this is one of our favorite times of the year. A sunshiny-fall day, the sounds of the drumline practicing, cheers of fans as they walk by and little A's painted on the faces of boys who dream of being out on the field one day. It's the feeling that you're a part of something bigger than yourself...a day when a stadium full of people are rooting for their team of choice.

It's big.

It's fun.

It's Game Day in Tuscaloosa.

And, believe it or not, it's not really about whether we win or not. It's singing the fight song and high-fiving on good plays and sharing the loss if it happens. In the end, it IS only a game. But don't tell our boys that just yet. Because the Tigers are coming to town with one goal in mind... victory. And we'll be waiting for them.

Roll Tide!

Halloween Memories

(click image to enlarge)

Merry Hallowsgiving

...or shall I say "Happy HalloThanksmas"...

I woke up this morning to my favorite radio station playing "Jingle Bells." JINGLE BELLS. That was followed by "Deck the Halls" and capped off with a rousing rendition of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas!"

What in the everlovin world are they doing playing Christmas music??? That stresses me out, y'all. FIRST of all, it's Halloween. That means it is still October. Say it with me, "OCT----TOBBBB-BER." Jeesh.

My friend Stacey and I were chuckling the other day about how much we still love this time of year because our "holiday planning" is still full of hope and promise. Those homemade gifts we want to make are still possible and all those nifty little ways we want to organize for the hectic holiday season can still be put into place. I can still be organized (yes!) and creative (oh! yeah!) when it comes to giftwrapping and if I wanted to bake my special-what-I'm-known-for holiday cake for all my friends and neighbors, I still have time. Of course, I'm not actually KNOWN for baking anything...so that could be a problem. BUT...because it's only OCTOBER, I still have time to learn how to bake something-special-that-I-could-possibly-become-known-for. The season is full of possibility, it is! Right?

But not if I wake up to "Silent Night."

Because, if I wake up to the song "Silent Night" playing on the radio, it's HERE. Christmas. And that means that I have a lot to do and not enough time to do it and that stresses me out because THIS is the year I was gonna be on TOP of the game, yessirree I was. I was going to pull out that "Countdown to Christmas" planner I bought years ago, dust it off and use it this year. REALLY use it.

Because, you see. It's still OCTOBER. I am going to switch the radio station, reprogram my brain to my favorite season, autumn, which is still gloriously presenting itself outside my door. I will banish the stressful thoughts of holiday-prep inadequacy and enjoy the rest of my Fall without falling into the way-too-early preholiday madness.

I will.

I promise.

I must.

I will not look up a single recipe for "Festive Holiday Bundt Recipes for Dummies"...well, at least not until tomorrow. Cause then folks it will be November.

And you know what that means...

GAME ON.

Letters of Gratitude

I have decided that I would like to use this space to write a letter of gratitude every now and then. There are people I come in contact with every day that do things big and small... each having their own impact on my life. Some of these people will never see this...and some not for a long time...but that does not matter. The acknowledgement is the important part to me.

This letter is for Steve Rountree and Debbie Burns:

Glorious Day

Today is a glorious day

Not for any particular reason

Maybe it's the crystal clear,
cool Fall-ish weather outside...

or the fact that I don't hurt anywhere on my body

and my house is straightened (for the most part)

and my dog is by my side chewing on her tennis ball...

Perhaps it's the joy of the light
pouring in the glass on my front door

Or the sound of a lawnmower in the distance...

I can't seem to pinpoint the exact source

of my contentment today

I just know it's with me

I know there will be some not-so-good days ahead

They are a part of the natural, cyclical rhythm of life...

But today is a good one.

I am content.

A Passion for Fashion? Not Really.

OK, so my post about 80's trends coming back made me think. As much as I loathe everything that is the 80's (well, except for John Hughes films, Trapper Keepers and the song "More Than Words" by Extreme)...

...but I digress.

I started thinking about other decades ...would I have liked those any better?

The Roaring 20's for instance...I think I would have liked this era (style-wise, that is). I love that look...the hair, the dresses, the long strands of pearls and the great shoes. Of course, the custom was to keep your chest looking as flat as possible to portray equality with men at the time...unfortunately, I couldn't pull that off if I tried. I do love the flapper-style, though!

And possibly the the 50's... when I think of the 50's I think of sock hops, poodle skirts and those little tin-foil-packed meatloaf TV dinners with the bright green peas. I imagine Leave it to Beaver-esque moments and tiny waistlines. Again, a style I probably couldn't pull off!

Then, there are the 60's... it wasn't all Woodstock, I know. But the 60's conjure up the hippiest of images. Long, stringy hair and pychadellic colors. The true cliche of a peace-lovin, groovy decade. What's funny is neither of my parents looked like that in the 60's but that's what I think of for those years. And the Twiggy look? Puh-leeze.

In some ways, I am a child of the 70's. But, just that, a child. My Mom dressed me for many of those years so I'm not quite sure what being a teenager dressing during that time was like. All I can say is I loved the Bee Gee's and I could get a wing going in my hair (subsequently frozen in time with a can of hair spray) as good as the next person. But bell bottoms? Nothankyouverymuch. No sir-ee. :-)

I don't know. I think style and fashion are something I've never been too keen on because I always seem to catch up just as "they" (whoever they may be) are moving on to the next big thing. But the fact that 80's fashions are back in vogue? This is one style train I'll be glad to miss.

THIS time around.

Gag Me With a Spoon

OK, so I thought I'd run to the store tonight to find an outfit for a trip I'm taking to visit my sis in Tampa tomorrow. I'm none too pleased with my current selection of clothing and thought one new outfit wouldn't hurt.

But hurt it did.

I know we've had this 80's retro trend going on for some time now. But folks, please. We must stop the insanity. And quick.

The clothes that I saw on the racks this evening were, shall I say, AWFUL. Boxy, big-shouldered tunic-type shirts in pale pastel colored stripes (of course with a hint of gold yarn running through it. Blech.) One shirt/vest/combo-thingie I picked up looked like something comedian Paula Poundstone would wear...or better, yet, it would be part of the wardrobe for the female-gym-teacher-who-hates-men in a cheesy 80's movie. What are the fashion folks thinking?

Pink speckled boxy print with silver thread accents.

Puffy purple purses with a metallic buckle. (It was painful for me to even type that)

As I walked through one particular store and surveyed the damage, er, I mean INVENTORY, I was transported back to my junior year in high school. "Ooh, this black and white horizontally-striped tunic would look super great with those new stirrup pants I bought and my black flats."

Perish the thought.

All I ask for is something with a dart here or there. Some sort of shirt item that might actually make me look like I have a waist even if I don't. This is 2007, people. Did the fashion trend in the 1970's suddenly revert to poodle skirts? No. And for good reason.

I guess if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. For my flight tomorrow I'll don my best pair of Jordache jeans and a Coca-Cola shirt with the stiff white collar. With a Goody comb in my back pocket, I will be ready to take on the world. Perhaps I'll even start daydreaming about Rob Lowe or Ricky Schroeder again.

One never knows...

Relief

Drip
Drop

Drip

Sprinkle

Rain..........................................

ahhhhhh

desperately needed

let it pour

Contentment

Today was a great day.

I was able to go to a wonderful church and worship my Lord freely. Afterwards, my family enjoyed lunch then went home to kick back and rest. We all retreated for a Sunday afternoon nap and I nestled into my new favorite spot: a twin bed in my son's room. It's an extra bed tucked snugly beneath a set of windows. My new Sunday ritual is to lie down, open up the window and let a mixture of warm sun and cool breezes lull me to sleep.

As I drifted off into a cozy nap, I felt a strong breeze blow in as it carried crunchy leaves down the driveway and across the front yard. The distant sound of children's laughter, a dog or two barking and my son's deep breathing on the adjacent bed made me feel safe and confirmed the fact that I am wholly and deeply blessed.

The rest of the day was equally delightful: shopping with a friend, dinner with my "men" and curling up on the couch to watch a movie with my hubby.

I couldn't ask for more.

Savior I come,

quiet my soul,

remember...

Friday's Feast: October 19, 2007

Appetizer: If you were a dog, what breed would you be, and why?
I'd be a Golden Retriever...fun-loving and generally happy... and always one to chase a tennis ball!

Soup: What does the color purple make you think of?
I would like for my answer to be "nobility" or something much more culturally well-rounded than my actual first thought/response: BARNEY.

Salad: Approximately how long does it take you to get ready each morning?
With involvement of five year old boy......1 hour at least

Without involvement of five year old boy......... 30 minutes

Main Course: How many cousins do you have, and are you close to them?

Unfortunately, I only have two. My Mom was an only child and my Dad had one brother... I wish we were closer but we really only see each other at weddings and funerals... I wish that weren't the case because we are close in age and get along well.

Dessert: Take your initials (first, middle, last) and come up with something else those letters could stand for. (Example: SFO = Sweet Funny Otter)

My initials are KTB........ Kangaroos Tote Babies :-)

*******************************************************************************
To do your own feast or to check out how others responded, click HERE.

Addiction # 457

Hello. My name is Katie and I am addicted to Sharpie pens.

"Hello, Katie." (the people in the circle of chairs chant back to me)

I am addicted, ya'll. I love Sharpies more than just about any kind of office supply. And, that's saying a lot. Now they've come out with the little Sharpies that hang off a keyring and you have them at your disposal at all time.

(Katie purrs)

When did I become addicted to office supplies? I'm drawn to the writing utensil section of Office Depot like moth to flame...like white on rice...like...well, you get my point. Gel pens, ballpoints, big pens, little pens, colored markers, crayons and big pads of white paper. Oh my goodness. It's enough to get my heart racing.

Just the other day, I bought my 5-year old a brand new box of crayolas...the 64 variety with all the metallics and beauties like "cornflower blue" and "magenta." I have to admit that I've used them almost as much as he has. I love, love, love doodling, coloring, drawing. Sigh....

But, the little Sharpies take the cake. Give me some Sharpie pens and blank file folders and it might as well be Christmas morn.

I loveeeeeeeeeeeeeee pens. Pens, pens, pens......


Don't worry. I scare me sometimes, too.

Happy Fall, Y'all

(click image to enlarge)

(click image to enlarge)

(click image to enlarge)

(click image to enlarge)

Making the Right Move...

I think the earth just tilted on its axis, folks. Either that or there is a gas leak in my husband's office and he's talking out of his head.

Eight years ago, my husband made a not-so-wise decision in my opinion. He passed up an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii with me for a football game. As a rabid University of Alabama football fan, he decided that "seeing Tennessee play Alabama in our home stadium for the first time in history" was more important than accompanying me on this tour designed for meeting planners and their guests.

Lemme tell ya, I have never let that one go. There are plenty of things I have let go through the years but that isn't one of them. (By the way, I took my Dad and we had a grand time)

So, fast forward to 2007. We have a new coach at Alabama. Our season is full of promise. There is an electricity in that stadium that we haven't had in a long time and this weekend is one of our biggest games to date... Alabama vs. Tennessee. Now, if you're not a sports fan, I'm sure I've lost you by now. But hold tight...I'm getting to the point. Promise.

As many of you know, we're trying our best to adopt and have been for the past year. We have recently discovered that we need a certain class in order to adopt through the state of Georgia. And guess when the class begins? Yep. This Saturday. All day.

So...my hubby called a few minutes ago and said he suggested we need to forego our trip to the game in lieu of attending this class. Since the next time we could get in would be February, he's offering to skip the game in order to attend (if they have room for us).

What? What did he just say?

I hope this isn't coming across as sarcastic...because I am genuinely surprised at his decision. Sure we enjoy going to the games but this is a chance to add to our family. This is for our son who spends time kicking around pine cones in the yard with his head hung low because he wants so desperately to have a brother or sister to play with.

There are just some decisions that are no-brainers in life.

This is one of them.

I Had to Ask, Didn't I?

I was chatting with my five year old son and trying to reinforce how much he means to me.

Me: "Daniel, do you know that if someone offered me a choice between having ALLLLLL the money in the whole, wide world or having you...I'd choose YOU."

Daniel: "Thanks, Mom..." (an uninspired response if you ask me)

Me: "What would you do if someone made you choose between all the Transformers in the world and Mommy, hmmm?"

(a question I deep down knew the answer to. I'm a glutton for punishment, I am.)

Daniel: "Well, Mommy... you know I LOVES me some Transformers..."

I just HAD to ask, didn't I?

Interviewin' with Okra

Thought the title might be just weird enough to get your attention. :-) My bloggy friend Megan over at FriedOkra sent me some questions that I must answer. It is certainly not good blog protocol to ignore an "interview" like this...but these questions were hard, y'all.

Here goes (my answers are in black):

1. You don't pull on Superman's cape. You don't spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit into the wind. You don't pull the mask off the ol' Lone Ranger and you don't try to force horizontally striped clothing on Katie.

2. Have you ever had an event planning DISASTER? When/where/how/why and what was the fallout?

Oh yes, ma'am I did. In 1996, we had rented the battleship USS Alabama in Mobile Bay (Mobile, Alabama) for an evening event during an annual conference for Realtors. There were 500 people or so in attendance and the theme was a 40's evening/USO Show on the deck of the ship. The disaster occurred when the caterer showed up with 3 people to work the event. THREE. (Apparently the other TEN people we were supposed to have called in sick) The food was being prepared on the ship and transported down to the hangar where the meal was served. Basically, because they were shorthanded, I was running back in forth (in my 40's attire no less) running platters of food back and forth. It was a nightmare. But, to end the evening on a perfect note, we had arranged for fireworks over the bay. As the ending notes of "P.S. I Love You" were sung by the "Andrews Sisters," the fireworks filled the sky above. So, the evening actually ended with a "bang." :-)

3. Write me one of your signature poems - this time about what happens in Georgia when it SNOWS.

I just saw the weather
Could it really be true?
We're forecast for snow
There's so much to do!

I must make a list
For supplies that I need
It could snow half an inch!
I have a family to feed!

I'm off to Home Depot
For flashlights and candles
Then I'll run into Payless
For boots to replace sandals

I'll stock up on groceries
Like cheese, milk and bread
And I'll buy some cute gloves
And a hat for my head

Could it really be happening?
Let there be no mistake
Bring out the salt trucks
I just saw a flake!

4. What's the tackiest thing you can recall ever seeing in someone's front yard?
A flag supporting Auburn University. (hee hee)

5. What do you hope others see in you? Paint a picture of the perfect Katie, in your own eyes, and in your own words.
Told you these questions were hard! The perfect Katie? There's no such a thing. But, I do hope that others see someone who is compassionate and caring and yes, even, goofy. I'd love it if I somehow the thought of a memory we've shared brings a smile to their face... I'd never want anyone to remember a "perfect" Katie (not that that's likely to happen!) Instead, I'd like to know that people remember me fondly despite my imperfect self. I found a quote yesterday that said "a true friend still thinks you're a good egg...even if you're cracked." That says it all.

Keepin' It Simple

There's somethin strange goin on. I don't know if I'm just goin through a funky phase... it's kinda hard to explain.

The first happened when I was cleaning out my purse yesterday. I am giving up my old "suitcase" of a purse in favor of a streamlined one in a desperate search for simplicity. For some reason, I suddenly have no desire to try and be "all things to all people." Nor do I want to carry around a load of supplies just in case somebody might need something. I kid you not-- it was like I was trying out for "Let's Make a Deal" where they call out some obscure object to see if anyone had it in their possession: "Does anyone have a plastic ruler," Monty Hall would call out.

"Oooh! me! me!"

"What about a deck of cards... or perhaps a sewing kit?"

I'm telling you, I had it all. Static Guard? Got it. Shout wipe? No problemo. I even had a purse full of roasted peanuts to occupy my son at a college football game. Those days are gone.
I no longer care to haul around a five 'n dime store to try to make sure I have an emergency item for anyone who might come along. I tossed out, streamlined and widdled down to the bare essentials. Wallet, sunglasses, keys, small toiletry kit and some medicine. That's it. I can't tell you how nice it is to carry around a light purse that I know contains only the essentials.

Ah, the freedom.

I also just returned from Barnes 'n Noble and experienced a strange feeling. I didn't want anything. I had absolutely no desire to buy every cookbook on the shelf just because it contained a cute cupcake recipe for a child's birthday or 50 recipes with 5 ingredients or less. I didn't care. I have enough cookbooks that I don't use. Why did I need one more? I saw no magazine that I had to have and no desk calendar or coffee mug I couldn't live without. I left with a feeling of "it was nice to browse...but I didn't need any of that stuff."

What in the heck is wrong with me?

Not that I am of a materialistic bent...I just have no desire for more "stuff" right now. I'm in a decluttering mode like never before.

Simple. Easy. No-fuss. That's what I'm talkin' bout.

Ah, the possibilities

There is nothing in this world that holds as much hope...as much opportunity...as a newly opened box of 64 Crayola crayons.

With a built-in sharpener nonetheless.

Matters of the Heart

Many friends have inquired about why I've been so quiet of late. I'm thankful to have people in my life who care when they sense something may be wrong.

When I started this blog, it was simply a journal...a memoir of sorts for my son so that he could have a record of what his early years were like as well as his Mom's views on everyday life. I'll never forget discovering a tattered blue binder the night before my Mom's funeral. It was chock full of poetry she had written as well as the occasional essay on life in general.

It was like finding a piece of myself.

As I poured over the pages, I felt like I was learning things about my Mom that I had never known. She loved...she lost...and she had the ability to take something as obscure as a patch of moss on a rock and turn it into something beautiful. That's what I wanted to do with my blog. I wanted to create a journal of the obscure... reflections on the mundane parts of life that make up our days.

Then, I became consumed. I discovered other blogs and then linked to blogs off of those blogs...and, before I knew it, I had 40 or so (probably more) blog links on my desktop I tried to check everyday. It really got out of hand. I would get so wrapped up in people's lives that I barely managed my own.

Please don't get me wrong. If you are reading this and got here by linking to a link of a link...I'm glad you're here. As anyone who knows me will attest, I love people and sharing my life with others. But, I have discovered that a LOT of my time is spent on the computer. I do my work on the computer and then I find myself spending my free time on here as well.

I don't plan on ending my blog or forbidding myself from enjoying other blogs, either. But, what I have done is taken stock in my life. I have not felt well for a really long time. I don't get enough exercise. I need to spend more quality time with my son. Not just the "feed you, bathe you, dress you, do homework with you" time...but REAL time...Mommy-Daniel time. I want him to remember me as engaged in his day...not sitting at a computer all the time.

So, if I've been a little quiet, please forgive me. I will still post to maintain the original focus of my blog. I just won't be trying to win every bloggy giveaway ever posted and I won't be checking every blog I love EVERY day and sometimes multiple times per day.

I enjoy my time here...I just need to make sure it's not taking me away from what really counts. I know there are plenty of folks that blog and can manage their time appropriately. I've simply learned I'm not one of them. Not yet. But, I'm workin on it.

That's me...a perpetual work-in-progress!

Stillness

“Blessed are the single-hearted, for they shall enjoy much peace.
If you refuse to be hurried and pressed, if you stay your soul on God, nothing can keep you from that clearness of spirit which is life and peace. In that stillness you will know what His will is.”
~ Amy Carmichael

* * *

For a warm, not-quite-yet-autumn day in Florida, the wind was remarkably cool and the leaves in the trees fluttered about with the spunky flirtiness of schoolgirls excited to see each other after a long absence. As I lied on my back atop the castle section of a wooden playground, I absorbed the wonder and the glory of a quiet moment. There were no sounds to distract...no cars zooming by, no kids screaming as they played. No, it was just me and my son and the sound of the gulls as they passed by overhead.

This playground excursion was not entered into lightly. I had promised multiple pushes on the swing, a race to the slide, a tutorial on proper monkey bar protocol and alternating turns playing goalie on the soccer field nearby. All this wrangling in return for good behavior and patience during what we anticipated to be a longer-than-normal college football game due to it being broadcast on television.

At first, I was struck by the peacefulness at this most public of playground spots. The glare and heat of the warm Florida sun was deflected by a cozy canopy of tree branches that formed an rooflike sort of structure above our heads. As I prepared to take my turn on the slide, I laid my head back and surveyed the scene above. The sunlight was weaving its way in and amongst the narrow branches as they swayed to and fro. The song of cicadas danced on the breeze and I called Daniel--my five year old--over to take in the wonder...the stillness of it all.

Now anyone who knows squat about five year olds knows that the words "5 year old" and "stillness" are virtually inutterable in the same sentence. You know, much like "rock concert" and "quiet" could never be used in relation.

You get my drift.

I would, at some point in his young life, love to instill in my son the same sense of reverence I carry for unexpected moments of peace. Moments when there is nothing more wonder-filled than to take in the sounds and the environment around you. So, I tried.

"Daniel...come here sweetie... here lie down next to Mommy. Look up there...isn't that cool how the tree branches are dancing in the wind? And how the sunlight is sparkling as it peeps through the trees? Let's just be quiet for a minute and see what else we notice..."

::silence for 5 seconds::

"Mommy?"

"Shhhhh...for just a second...listen to that...do you hear it? That's the wind whistling...and the birds....let's just listen to them talk to us, OK? Shhhhhhhh........."

:: 3 seconds of silence::

"Mommy?"

"What, sweetie?"

"That was cool. Will you go push me on the swing now?" (as he jumps up and slides down the slide)

Sigh... yes, I will push you. I pull myself up, dust off and slide down the bright yellow slide.

So much for "Nature Appreciation 101." Perhaps in a year or five I'll try it again. But for now, there's a tire swing calling my name.

Real Life Pole Position

Did you ever play the game Pole Position in an arcade? You'd grab on to the steering wheel and try to stay within the confines of a track while avoiding numerous obstacles that were launched into your path?

Well, my morning drive to Daniel's school for the past two days has been like real life Pole Position. It starts with the suicidal squirrels. As I'm navigating the curves of my street, squirrels appear out of nowhere and dart into my path. If I didn't know better, I'd think they all have little walkie-talkies and are alerting each other when to jump in the way of my tires. I kid you not... this morning there were at least six squirrels that did the "stop-in-the-middle-of-the-road-and-freak-out" dance as my car approached. I usually don't swerve too much because I've gotten to the point in my life where I refuse to endanger the people riding in my car because a wayward squirrel wants to "end it all." But, it is quite distressing to be on the lookoout for Kamikaze Rodents at each bend in the road.

Then, they're working on the road next to my house and there are cones and workmen flagging me every which-a way... "SLOW!" "STOP!" Signs are everywhere...work trucks backing in and out of my path... whew. Avoided collision with concrete mixer truck...BONUS: 5,000 points!

And, of course, the very highlight of my morning routine is avoiding mowing down a family with small children in the treacherous parking lot of my son's school. I have memorized the accepted pathways in and out of the lot but the straight in-and-out layout of parking spaces, combined with small children and cars pulling in and out...it's a recipe for disaster, I tell ya. I inch back....inch back...a little more.....look over right shoulder, look over left shoulder...a little more....rearview mirror check....left check...right check.... inch a little...ALERT! Blue backpack in the mirror! I slam on the brakes, breathe and, once the field is seemingly clear, start inching out again. I make the successful turnout and head, cautiously, down a row to safely exit.

Breathe.........

Final Score:

Near miss Squirrel #4....350 points
Mixer Truck Collision Avoidance..... 5,000 points
Backpack Spotting Bonus: 1,400 points

Perhaps tomorrow there'll be a bulldozer or double stroller thrown in to the mix. I hear that avoiding those can automatically land you into the next level with bonus speed-trap protection. Stay tuned...

SFD, part Deaux

Goodness, gracious
This SFD
Is really starting
To get to me

I drove by the bank
And what did I see?
The temperature reading
Was ninety THREE!

SFD: Seasonal Frustration Disorder

As the end of the summer
Finally fades
The trees should be starting
To turn different shades

The pumpkin farms brimming
With bright orange beasts
Should accompany
Warm, "fall harvesty" feasts

But instead I have shorts on
And have full o' leaf trees
Tell me WHY in September
It is 90 degrees???

Sunday, Sleepy Sunday

4:00am.

That's what time we pulled into our driveway this morning after driving home from the game. Keith and I took turns driving and have both agreed that will NEVER happen again. We did make it to church by 8:25 for our meeting and children's church...but had to leave right afterwards so we could come home and crash.

Basically, we have been good for NOTHING for the rest of this day.

The game was a heartbreaker for us as we lost in overtime. But, it was as exciting as a game can get. I mean, who wants to see their team just blow the other away? What's the fun in that? Well, actually, there is aLOT of fun in that. But, if you can't have that, then the so-close-that-I-barely-have-any-fingernails-left kinda game is fun, too.

Final score:

Alabama 23
Georgia 26,
Katie & Keith's Sunday Productivity Level... ZERO.

Craziness, I Tell Ya

Fall is my favorite time of year.

It's also the time when we're so busy that it seems like life is whizzing by. On most Saturdays, we are on the road to Tuscaloosa, Alabama for home games at the University of Alabama. On days like today, it gets a little crazier because we're leaving this morning, driving the 3 hour drive, tailgating all day, going to the game, and then driving back home to be back in time for an 8:30am meeting at church and then doing children's church for the first service. I have no idea what time we'll get in tonight/tomorrow a.m. but it won't be pretty. We would get a sub but we're going to the Florida State/Alabama game in Florida next weekend so we really have to be there tomorrow. That's what Sunday afternoon naps are for, I guess!

This season also seems to be when I want to cram as much in as possible to take advantage of the glorius weather and bounty of activities...pumpkin patches ands corn mazes...festivals, fairs...you name it.

Somehow I need to work in time to take it all in...the colors, sights, sounds, smells and tastes of this glorious time of year.

How I do love Fall.

Under the Magnolia Trees

In the early 1970's, little did the residents of Robertsdale, Alabama know there was a land of magic in their midst...a mystical place where children could dream and soak up enough memories to last a lifetime. This splendid sanctuary of frolic and fun was the backyard of my grandparents' home.

Back in those days, the sleepy little town of Robertsdale was nothing more than the place where travelers would stop at the local Taste-T-Freeze on their way down to the beach. Just a few blocks off the main highway was a short tree-lined street containing a neat little row of houses. One of the houses was not much more than a box. Only 750 square feet in size, it was a mansion to my sister and I. The rounded front steps and wrought iron bannister gave the little house a sense of granduer...not to mention a perfect spot for 2 young girls to perform shows for an always patient audience.

Although there was something quite special about the facade of the house and its oyster-shell driveway, it was the backyard and single car garage that always seemed to draw us in as children. Covered with larger-than-life magnolia trees whose roots were bursting through the earth, the shady expanse served as the ideal stage for our imaginary world. Dumping out boxes of miniature-sized cars, trucks and play "people," we would use the tree roots as our roads and highways. My sister and I would spend hours in this pretend world and I consider this one of my fondest childhood memories.

Also in the back there was a garage that smelled of oil and dirt and mystery. To a small child, this was a haven of exploration... every Alabama license tag ever issued (at least since my grandfather had been driving) was hung neatly on the back wall alongside an almost spooky addition to the mix--rows of dried out gourds he collected. The odd shapes and curvatures of these hollowed shells would take on a life of their own as the late afternoon sun cast slanted shadows onto the wall. It was a place of intrigue in my young, curious eyes.

There are many other details about the place that I remember fondly...the vegetable garden carefully tended my by grandfather, the row of fig trees from which my grandmother would make her delectable fig preserves, and the icebox in the garage that always contained a flat of those colored juice drinks with the aluminum foil cap. Then there was the screened porch on the back of the house with its Victrola-style record player and the way the sound of the Lawrence Welk show poured forth from the living room television. Even the smell of moth balls in the guest room cedar closet makes for a pleasant memory because it is interlaced with the sounds of my grandmother singing me to sleep with "Delta Dawn" as she rubbed my back in slow, circular patterns.

Many memories dance around in this sometimes-scattered head of mine. But few compare to the magic, the mystery and the freedom I felt as I played and imagined, dreamed and explored in that little backyard under the magnolia trees.

Yes, I am still alive. And I'm HOME.

It's Roses and Violets Live from...........no, not New York....GEORGIA!

(....."begin cheesy theme music.....and you're on!")

Welcome back to the show folks. Your travel correspondent let you down. I could blame it on technical diffculties. I could blame it on the daily demonstrations that graced the front of our hotel... there are lots of excuses I could throw out there. But, you know what?

I was just doggone tired.

From six o'clock in the morning to ten o'clock each night I was on the move. I've planned meetings before for folks that meet in the morning and play in the afternoon. This is not one of those groups. These folks are serious about some meetings y'all. At any given time, there are six concurrent breakout sessions going, then they switch and go to another set of six or so meetings...all which have their own set-up needs, agendas, sign-in sheets, projectors...you name it.

And, of course, I had to wear cute shoes.

And, there is nothing ever comfortable about cute shoes.

At one point, my friend Cindy (a girlfriend of mine I drag along with me to help out!) and I are walking down the hall echoing each other as the "cute" shoes we were wearing rubbed the blisters made by other cute shoes we wore. "Oww," "Ouch," "Owww," Ouch,"...we would echo each other in a duet of footwear misery. (note to self: forget style next time. I think those nurse-style shoes will look great with my navy suit. Perhaps the taupe ones with the thick laces will do.)

I did get to take in a few sights...I did the Empire State Building that I told you about in the last post only I didn't see Tom Hanks. I also did not find anyone remotely looking like Tom Hanks or a backpack of any kind. I did find lines, security, and frustrated workers who had probably spent the last eight hours telling camera-wielding tourists like me which elevator to use. It was a spectacular view though...(see pics below)

I must say we had some wonderful food (Michael Jordan's and Morton's Steakhouses, authentic New York-style cheesecake and a to-die-for reuben at a local deli) and everyone was in a great mood. The last night I was there, Cindy had returned home so I jumped in a cab and went to Time Square. As touristy as it sounds, it just FEELS like I'm really in the Big Apple when I'm standing in Time Square. I really had a good time.

But, when I got home and hugged my husband and got to snuggle with my son during his nap... I knew I was back where I belong.

THAT, my friends, is the best feeling of all.

Here are a few pics from my trip:

View from Empire State Observatory

Me (left) & Cindy (right)-- Installation Banquet

Interior of the New York City Public Library

View from our reception at the
United Nations Headquarters (East River)

Heaven (a.k.a. the rows of dispensers at the World of M&M's)

Time Square--September 17

Life in New York...Temporarily

Greetings from New York... wish I could tell you I decided to fly up here like Oprah to do a special "edition" of Roses and Violets "LIVE! From the Big Apple!" but, the truth is I'm working. Perhaps one day a bloggy expedition will be in order. But, for now you'll have to settle for the oh-so-glamorous behind-the-scenes tale of putting on a meeting for 500 people.

You're on the edge of your seats, aren't you? This is good stuff, I tell you. Starting tomorrow, I'll be able to regale you with stories of lost name badges, room temperature adjustments and $19.50 cookies. Tell all your friends! I may need to alert Blogger so that the server doesn't get jammed or somethin.

Hee hee.

Got in yesterday and we got the registration room set-up and patted ourselves on the back for early productivity. That will give us a sliver of sightseeing time today...a rare opportunity at these meetings. Like any well-known travel correspondent, of course I will report back here to my faithful throng of readers. All ten of you should be pleased to know that one of our stops includes the Empire State Building. I have my faux braid and London fog trench coat ready to reinact the scene from Sleepless in Seattle where Meg Ryan rushes to the top...hoping that Tom Hanks will be there (insert weepy voice here) but then, ::sniff::, all she finds is the back pack containing the bear--what's the bear's name my trivia friends?? hmm???-- yes, Howard. She finds Howard and then Tom Hanks and his son come running around the corner. Sighhhhhhhhhh.

I digress.

As usual.

Not sure where else we'll be going. Last night, we went down to the South Street Seaport and had Mexican (because, after all, Mexican food is so local and all) and I came back to the room and crashed.

Stay tuned for more Roses and Violets...LIVE! From New York! (begin cheesy theme music....and fade....................................)

Let the Negotiations Begin...

It's almost here. The holiday I hear about nine outta twelve months of the year.

Halloween.

Pagan holiday or not, my son thinks the chance to marry his two favotire pasttimes--dressing up in costumes and getting candy--is nothing short of heavenly. There are cyclical discussions that happen in this family's household: When is Christmas, what he wants for Christmas, what he would like for Christmas next year (this discussion occurs at 7:16am on Christmas Day), what he would like to do for his birthday and then...on the day in February after his birthday...the Halloween discussion begins.

I kid you not.

This year, the transition to "young man" costumes instead of cute little boy costumes has taken place. The emphasis on cute and adorable has given way to which superhero-weapon toting-scary-faced-metal skinned roboty-thing he wants to be. Luckily, I relied upon the fact that the particular costume of that genre was much too expensive.

That's when the wheels in his brilliant little mind started a-spinnin'.

"Mom, I know what I want to be for Halloween since I can't get that Transformer costume I want."

"What is that?," I ask.

"Al Roker. You know the weather man."

I have no words.

"We'll see, honey." The classic Mommy decision avoidance phrase.

The next day: "Mommy, I've changed my mind. I want to be the person at the airport that stands behind the counter and gives you the ticket-thingy to get on the airplane."

"A gate agent?," I ask.

"Yes. I want to be an airline gate agent," he declares.

"Alrighty then," I say. Making mental note to research "youth size gate agent costume."

Then, the last straw came this morning. I enter his room to awaken him from a peaceful slumber.

He meets me at his door.

"I've got it, Mommy! I know what I REALLYYyyyyyyy wanna be for Halloween. This is it!, " he exclaims.

"OK, what do you REALLY want to be for Halloween?"

"The guy that sings Rhinestone Cowboy."

I am dumbfounded.

"You want to be Glen Campbell for Halloween?," I ask.

"Yep!" Then he breaks out in song, "Like a Rhinestone Cowboy...bomp bommmmmmm...getting cards and letters from people I don't even know.... like a rhinestone cowboy......"

OK. His plot to force me to concede to the Transformer-type costume out of sheer exhaustion? Well, lemme just say the boy knows what he's doing. He has it all planned out. I'm sure they talk at recess and map out alternate/impossible costume strategies to wear down my defenses.

Little does he know I inherited enough creativity from my Mom to fulfill his very wish.

You wanna sing some Rhinestone Cowboy?

Your wish is my command. :-)

The Escalator Ride

I had waited for that moment for what seemed like an eternity. We stepped off the train and approached the bank of escalators directly in front of us. Which one should we choose? I'm guessing the middle one would be best. I had never before put so much thought into which escalator would transport me to the Baggage Claim area at the Atlanta airport.

But, this time was different.

In my arms was a sandy-blonde haired boy with brand new jeans and sparkling white little tennis shoes and an enormous green apple that had been in his clutch since we left the Moscow Marriott at 4 o'clock that morning (18 hours prior, to be exact).

At the top of the escalator at the airport that day was a throng of family and friends--all bearing posters and balloons and steeped in anticipation...waiting to meet this new addition to our family.

Our first child.

It had been a long road to this moment. Years of trying to conceive, followed by the death of my mother which sparked in me a "life is too short" attitude...nudging us down the adoption path. There had been seminars and paperwork and medical visits, shots to guard us from illness while traveling abroad, home studies, background clearances, financial reviews and yes, even a letter stating that our dog had received all the appropriate vaccinations. We were ready.

I got the call at work that the Russian courts had offered us a date to return and bring our child home (we had been on Trip 1 a few months prior). I was at work and my coworkers jumped up and down in delight--as excited as I was that it was happening. We were going to be parents.

After an agonizing week in Russia discovering that Daniel had been hospitalized with chicken pox and we could not see him until it was time to take him home... we finally became parents. Appropriately, he became ours on Mother's Day 2004 in the waiting area of a hospital in the middle of nowhere Russia. It was time to go home.

I travel quite a bit for business and had taken that steep escalator ride many a time. Each time I traveled during the adoption process, I would slowly ascend to the top and dream that Daniel was in my arms and we were finally coming home.

Well, this time, it was for real.

Finally...it was happening. A neat twist to the story was that the same coworkers that had shared in the joy of "the call" that day happened to be returning from a trip as well. They were the first to meet Daniel and got to make the "trip" up to the family and friends area with us. The doors to the train opened announcing our arrival at the terminal. We chose the middle escalator and my son was holding on tight to me with the bright green apple in his grasp. I glanced upward at the natural light pouring in knowing that, in just a few more moments, I would introduce this precious child to some really important people in our lives.

The slow creek, creek, creek echoed the pounding of my heart. Here we go.....my pulse quickened as we waved at the video camera being held by Keith as he captured the moment. The escalator came to the top, leveled out..................

and we saw them.

Balloons and banners and posters and people that we love cheering with relief. It was over. We were home. I approached my father and tears of relief poured forth. My sister, who was pregnant at the time, could not hold Daniel because of the chicken pox but she cried and shared in the joy of the moment. Friends embraced Daniel like he had been ours forever. It was one of the most special moments of our life.

I recall this story because I got the joy of watching some of our best friends take that ride yesterday. Their long journey to parenthood ended in the delivery room of a California hospital as they welcomed little Jackson into the world. Their arrival at the airport was important to me because I had been there. I had felt that relief and the needed embrace of familiar faces.

In a true role reversal, Daniel and I were now sitting on the floor, Keith was poised with camera ready and we waited...and we waited...and every cluster of new arrivals caused our heart to skip a beat. Then we saw them. Melissa and Jimmy...after years of being the "favorite aunt and uncle," the couple who everyone said "would make such great parents." There they were, stepping off the escalator with a bundle in their arms. Tears overcame me as I walked over and embraced my friend. They had done it. They navigated the turbulent waters of adoption and arrived home safely with their baby boy. We hugged for what seemed like an eternity as we shared in the happiness of the moment.

For many, the escalator to Baggage Claim at the Atlanta airport is nothing more than that. But for us and many other families, it serves a much bigger purpose. It is the "hospital room," the nursery window, if you will. It's the place to beam with pride and introduce your child to those you love.

It's a very special ride, indeed.

Anyone Know Spanish?

In my grand style of poor timing, we are having new carpet installed in our house today. Today. Of all days. But, considering my last post and repentance for shallow worrying, I shall not make a big deal of it. I will only say that it looks like we're moving and we've had to totally clear all our bedrooms and downstairs living room of "stuff." Today. The last good working day before next week's conference.

They were supposed to install while I was in New York but called to ask if this morning was O.K. And, of course, in true Katie fashion, never to tell anyone "no," I said "no problem."

So, now there are three very nice hispanic men who don't speak a lick of English tromping all over my new light-colored carpet in their tennis shoes as they install. I have said a couple times "I sure hope your shoes are clean" (do you see my eye twitching?) All I get is a laugh.

I'm not kidding mi amigos.

Do you think "Seniora no wanto no dirto on me carpeto!" will work?

Amazing how quickly I slip back into my worldy ways and worry about the little stuff.

Perspective, and Inspiration, Gained

I haven't blogged since Tuesday because I have been swimming in last-minute details for an event I have coming up in New York next week. To me, this is my least favorite part...making sure all the little details are covered. Each day, a new thing pops up-- someone needs a hotel room and we're sold out or they want to change to another tour or the speakers are requesting last-minute items... or I hear there is a taxi drivers strike in New York.

[rubbing temples]

"Oh woe is me..." This has been my internal mantra over the last couple weeks. The girl that stresses about having to pay $71 per person for bacon and eggs. I have so much to do...it's really been tough this week.

Then, last night, at about 10pm I was stopped in my tracks. A friend of mine in the neighborhood emailed to tell me she has cancer. A very rare form stemming from her endometriosis. It 's called endometrioid adenocarcinoma. They discovered it when she went to have a mass removed off of her ovary and had it biopsied. It was indeed cancer. The large mass was on her right ovary (which they removed) and the smaller one was on her left ovary (which they left in). Then a PET scan showed a nother possible cancerous mass near her sigmoid colon. Since the tumor was found to be a grade 3--highly aggressive and likely to spread--she is having surgery on September 19 to have everything from her ovary and cervix to her appendix and all lymph nodes in her pelvis removed to help prevent spreading.

This came on the heels of another friend in Alabama being diagnosed with breast cancer out of the blue. A friend who has seen both parents battle cancer and who also gave her kidney to a guy in her Sunday school class. She is now at MD Anderson in Houston being evaluated and emailed last night to say they did find 3 more masses in the same breast and abnormal cells in the lymph nodes under her arm. She is awaiting biopsy results.

Both of these women are young and have small children and plenty of life ahead of them. I thought about the worries that I had on my plate and how my biggest worry was that my son thinks that I am super-glued to this office chair. My worries over spending time with my husband and son will end in 12 days. For these women, the battle is just beginning. It humbled me and brought me to tears.

The pity party I have been having about the stress of my job ended last night.

Here are two examples of women who, in the face of a serious illness, are positive, optimistic and staying strong for their families and friends. As I prayed this morning, I prayed to God and asked for forgiveness for not being dependent on him for the little things. I prayed for these women that they will continue to seek Him and to maintain their positive attitudes. For so long, I have followed the courageous story of fellow blogger Heather who is battling brain cancer. Her most recent post is an essay on having cancer written by former White House Press Secretary Tony Snow. It eloquently reveals the positive aspects of dealing with a grave illness.

Read it for yourself...and prepare to be inspired.

I can only pray that I would handle it with as much class and strength and determination.

First Day of Kindergarten

(click image to enlarge)

100 Things About Me

1. I am a Christian and attend a wonderful church. We are very blessed.
2. I was born in Atlanta, GA and I live in Atlanta, GA.
3. I've also lived in 4 other states in between.
4. And have had 23 different addresses in my life.
5. No, my Dad was not in the military when I was growing up.
6. He was a food engineer and we were transferred a lot.
7. I loved moving a lot as a child.
8. I have a younger sister that looks a lot like me and shares my memory.
9. She lives in Florida-- about 9 hours from here. 9 hours too far.
10. My hubby is a very patient and understanding man.
11. Some days, I believe he is on a mission from God.
12. I've been married for nearly 13 years.
13. I have one child--a son--that grew inside my heart instead of my tummy.
14. He has taken up permanent residence there.
15. I played tennis on scholarship in college. I was in shape then. ::Sigh::
16. Fall is, without question, my favorite time of year.
17. The sound of crickets chirping in the evening makes me happy.
18. I make a mean vidalia onion pie.
19. My sister-in-law Summer despises onions but loves this pie.
20. I procrastinate. In fact, I think I'll finish this list later. Kidding.
21. I'm a calligrapher that specializes in addressing wedding invitations.
22. I once addressed a wedding invitation to every single address in Pelahatchie, Mississippi.
23. The zip code in Pelahatchie, Mississippi is 39145.
24. One of my favorite smells is a rainstorm approaching. Oh, and fresh cut grass.
25. I can quote the movie "Steel Magnolias" line by line.
26. I plan events for a living and pay $71 per person for scrambled eggs and bacon at large hotels.
27. I think I'll have my next big meeting at the Waffle House.
28. I can eat a huge breakfast at the Waffle House for $3.48.
29. Eighties movies and song lyrics are my specialty.
30. I light up when my child gives me an unsolicited kiss.
31. I wanted to be Michelle Pfeiffer's character in Grease 2 when I grew up.
32. I can still sing every word to every song in that movie.
33. I have visited 9 different countries.
34. I'm right-handed but always wanted to be a lefty.
35. My son is a lefty.
36. My favorite word is "serendipity."
37. My least favorite word is "moist."
38. I talked to O.J. Simpson in the driveway of his home with no one else around but his son.
39. It was 2 weeks after he was acquitted.
40. I'm thinking that was one of the strangest things I've ever done.
41. I'm fascinated by bad weather.
42. I'm deathly afraid of lightning.
43. Do you see my conundrum?
44. I still love Bon Jovi to this day.
45. I collect cookbooks.
46. I love pens.
47. I live with a crazed golden retriever named Cassie.
48. I do not cheat at Monopoly.
49. No matter what my sister-in-law Tonia says.
50. I'm a list-making freakaholic.
51. My favorite food is taco salad. Hold the salad.
52. I could spend days in Barnes and Noble.
53. I was a radio DJ right after college.
54. My Mom used to love to hear my "radio voice."
55. My Mom died of cancer in March 2003.
56. Don't know if I'll ever really get used to the fact that she's gone.
57. My son prays to God to "take care of his Grammy."
58. I love candles and have one, two or five burning at all times.
59. Kelly Clarkson rocks.
60. I love me some American Idol.
61. I voted for Chris Daughtry almost as many times as my friend Cindy.
62. Cindy voted a bazillion and fifty times.
63. I know where to find toothpicks in Wal-Mart.
64. They're on the aisle with the kitchen gadgets.
65. I love to read and write poetry.
66. I do not like mustard.
67. A box of colored pencils and a blank pad of paper...sheer heaven to me.
68. I believe Heely's (the roller skating shoe thingies) should be outlawed in stores.
69. I learned to ski in the Swiss Alps.
70. I had never seen snow before that day.
71. I love the movie "Christmas Vacation."
72. I always wanted to be a professional figure skater.
73. And an astronaut.
74. Neither of which will ever happen.
75. I have a freakish memory with numbers and names.
76. My son has a freakish memory with TV commercials.
77. I love John Denver.
78. We are trying to adopt a second child and have been for a year.
79. I LOVE playing games.
80. My husband does not LOVE playing games.
81. I majored in marketing and minored in Graphic Design in college.
82. I had planned to study geratric nursing.
83. I love the beach but I hate walking in sand.
84. I sleep with one foot outside the covers.
85. I love to sing.
86. I'm kinda sorta addicted to YouTube.
87. I'm really addicted to Spider Solitaire.
88. I drive too fast.
89. I drive faster than I thought because my speedometer is off by 4%.
90. I'm a geography buff...love me some maps!
91. I love writing on wipe-off boards.
92. I want to live in the mountains.
93. Zip-lock bags are awesome and feed my need to compartmentalize.
94. I type really fast... with three fingers and a thumb.
95. I want to exercise more.
96. That was a lie.
97. I need to exercise more.
98. I think Meryl Streep is a phenomenal actress.
99. I do not like ironing.
100. I'm thinking 100 things about me is probably 97 or 98 too many.

It's That Time Again, Folks...

It's back y'all. The end of my life as I know it...or, at least for a few months anyway.

College football season.

And, just like last year's post at this time, I was happy to see it roll around. Much like an old friend that you see after a long absence, football season embraces me and says "welcome back. Welcome to all things familiar. Here's your itinerary for your weekends and I really like what you've done with your hair."

OK, so I made that last one up.

Of course, I did what I do every year and teared up when the first notes of the fight song played. No, it's not my alma mater...it's my husband's. And, no I'm not some sap who wants to make something bigger out of the sport than it is. It is, after all, just a game.

But, to me, standing there with the same folks we've been seated with for the past half dozen years, it's a feeling of renewal. It's the start of a brand new year full of possibility and teeming with excitement, anticipation and hope. Not necessarily all centered around football, mind you. It's a time to put all the disappointments, failures, and challenges of the previous year behind us.

For many, this ritual usually occurs around midnight on January 1; but, for me, I'd rather celebrate by ushering in my favorite season surrounded by 92, 380 of my closest friends.

This year differed little from our Game Day routine of years past. There's the desire to get there at dawn-thirty-- even though the game doesn't start til 6:00pm. Ice chests loaded down with homemade goodies, comfy chairs to sit in and pom pons ready for the shakin. There's the obligatory trip to the Quad to see what's goin on as well as racing across the street to the team's hotel to support them as they board the buses bound for the stadium. There's little boys in football helmets and girls with crimson A's painted on their faces. There are alumni and a myriad of other fans eager to ring in a new year.

I'm sure as the season wears on, I may lose a tinge of enthusiasm as the six-hour round trip drive becomes mundane. But for now, I smile at the first of what I hope are many "W's" in our win/loss column and I embrace this longtime friend with delight. College football season is back upon us, folks.

Bring it on.

Little Tables and Little Chairs

My son is starting Kindergarten this Tuesday.

Keith and I went for Parent Orientation a couple nights ago and got to tour his new room and meet with his new teacher. The brightly lit room was filled with items bearing my son's name. There were little semi-circle tables on which a big label bore his first and last name. There was a "clothesline" of T-shirts with one that read "Daniel." On another wall was a year's worth of cupcakes and there was his right next to a tree full of apples with a student's name written on each. Then I spotted my favorite... a little blue school supplies box complete with little scissors and little glue...and pencils...yummy yummy school supplies neatly labeled with his name.

The organization freak in me can hardly stand it.

This time of year is my favorite for many reasons. We're on the cusp of my favorite season--Fall. School buses abound and the temperature is dropping (albeit slowly). College football is on its way and pretty soon I'll be trading my shorts and short sleeves for my favorite pants and cozy sweaters. (OK, that probably won't be til March here...but you get my point!)

But this year is different. Our son is in SCHOOL. Real school. Five-day-a-week school. We have begun those 13 years of schooling that really count. He'll be learning to read and do math problems. It's sort of a contradiction in my heart because, since we got him at age two, it feels like we've had him forever. But, at the same time, it feels just like yesterday and I can't believe that next week he'll be sporting his new backpack and lunch box and heading out the door to (what he calls) Big Boy School.

Where did the summer go? I guess the time has indeed come... for little tables and little chairs...and little hands holding pencils and books and...yes, my heart.

Kindergarten? Already?

Strawberry Cattle Bone Delight, Anyone?

OK, I was reading one of my favorite new blogs, Fried Okra, where our dear Megan happened to mention in passing that Jello is made out of ground horse hooves. Even if this is the stuff of urban legend, this was news to me. So of course I do what an self-respecting curious person would do and I googled it. On a website maintained by food engineers and experts was this statement:

"Jello, and other gelatin desserts, use gelatin obtained primarily from cattle skins and bones. Gelatin can be made from almost any animal skin and bones, including pork and horses, if they were available, but there are very few horses slaughtered for food. The skins and bones are treated as food, even though the process highly purifies the gelatin. Different grades of gelatin are obtained, which are used in film, capsules for pharmaceuticals, and foods."

Eeeww. Blech. Ok, I won't think about that now.

Regardless of the ingredients of Jello, am I the only one that stockpiles this stuff? I'm not kidding, if you look in my pantry you'd think either I'm hosting a huge end of the summer "Jello Jubilee" or that I was preparing for possible rationing on the stuff. Starwberry, lemon-lime, orange, blue raspberry...you name it. That doesn't even touch the number of pudding boxes I've attained. Do I ever make Jello? No. But there's something domestic about having those boxes neatly stacked (labels all facing the same direction, thankyouverymuch). Just knowing that I could whip up a gelatin mold at a moment's notice surely is worth some sort of Mommy-Bonus Points, right?

What's the shelf life of the stuff anyway? I know I must have a box from 1995 in there. I just know it.

Scattergories

OK...this is in depth blogging right here, folks.

Actually, this is the "I am planning a conference that is 2 weeks away" kind of blogging. (Although, admittedly, thinking of "K" words was pretty challenging, too) You take a stab at it......you have to come up with answers using the first letter of your own name. Have fun!

1. Famous Singer/Band: Kajagoogoo ("you're too shy...shy...hush hush, eye to eye....")

(I think I just dated myself, so I'll also answer "Korn"--though I have no idea what they sing!)

2. 4 letter word: kite


3. Street: Keith's Bridge Road


4. Color: khaki


5. Gifts/Presents: knife set


6. Vehicle: Kia Sedona


7. Things in a Souvenir Shop: kazoo


8. Boy Name: Kevin


9. Girl Name: Kayla


10. Movie Title: Karate Kid (double whammy...woo woo!)


11. Drink: Kool-Aid


12. Occupation: Karate instructor


13. Celebrity: Kyra Sedgewick


14. Magazine: Kiplinger's

15. U.S. City: Kosciusko, Mississippi


16. Pro Sports Teams: Kansas City Chiefs


17. Reason for Being Late for Work: kid sick, knife attack, you know common stuff...

18. Something You Throw Away: Kleenex


19. Things You Shout: Krispie Kreme (yet another double, y'all!)


20. Cartoon: Koala Brothers

Vegas Baby

Warning: the following comment was made by an anonymous five year old to his mother (name witheld to protect the innocent and stressed out) and is no reflection of the parenting skills of said parent or the amount of television allegedly watched by anonymous child.

11:15am:

"You know, Mommy...there are lot of good shows in Las Vegas...and what's happening in Vegas should be happening to you."

School starts back next Tuesday. Not a moment too soon.

OK, this is the third entry for today...(and no, before you say it...I have plenty to do. Just nothing I particularly FEEL like doing right at this moment. I'm taking a 3:45 - 4:00pm Blog Break) :-)

I couldn't resist Friday's Feast...It was full of yummy questions today.

Bon Appetite!

Appetizer: Say there’s a book written about your life. Who would you want to narrate the audio version?

Nia Vardalos...star of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I love her voice and her self-effacing humor.

Soup: Take the letters from your favorite kind of nut and write a sentence. (Example: Perhaps every avenue needs understanding today = peanut.)

Caring and sharing helps everyone win.........

Salad: If you could go back in time and spend one week in another decade, which decade would you choose?

It would have to be the either the 20's...for it's "roaring" reputation, music, and clothing...or the 50's for the "Leave it to Beaver" lifestyle and simplicity.

Main Course: Name a song that brings back memories for you.

"Sailing" by Kris Kristofferson...I'm sitting by a lake with my Mom in high school and we're listening to this song and watching the sun glitter down on the ripples in the water. I felt safe...content.

Dessert: Do you prefer to wash your hands in cold water or warm water?

If it's hot outside, I LOVE cold water on my hands... but, the opposite is true if it's hot outside. Profound, I know.

* * *

*note: Lexy, three in one day should get me off the hook for this weekend, right?

I'll Get My Spirit Elsewhere, Thanks

OK, I'm chuckling.

Do you remember the treatment I received at Spirit Air a couple months ago? I am not alone. Apparently the anti-Spirit-airlines movement got a little boost this week. If you haven't heard, the CEO of Spirit committed the ultimate cyber-faux pas...hitting the dreaded "reply-all" to an email from a dissatisfied cutomer. Of course, his non-sympathetic, cocky response was then thrown in the lap of the customer...and, needless to say...it made them none too happy.

This response has made its way around the internet quicker than kudzu taking over a telephone pole. And, for disgruntled passengers such as myself, it has basically cemented the fact that no fare is cheap enough to let folks get away with treating customers like this.

To see the original email in its entirety as well as the CEO's response, click here.

As for me, I can't help but smile as I think about the moment that he realized who was on the receiving end of his jerky response.

A hard lesson learned, for sure.

An Ecstatic Bystander

I left at 3:45 this morning to pick-up our friends Jimmy and Melissa to take them to the airport so they can go to California for the birth of their soon-to-be SON. (up until last night at dinner we thought it was a girl... he's going to look might cute wearing that sweater I bought him, y'all)

It's so rewarding getting to be on the "outside" watching this process...this blessing...unfold. It conjures up all the anticipation and excitement Keith and I had going to get Daniel and my stomach is in knots for them as they embark on this new chapter in their lives. As we left their house this morning, it was surreal to know it will not be just the two of them residing there when they return. Soon there will be a little person sharing that space...and their hearts.

You know, it's funny when you think about how this whole love thing works. You have two people that are sharing life together. Then you bring a child into the picture and logic would make it seem like their hearts and love would then be divided...no longer solely focused on each other. But, it's quite the opposite. For us, the love we had for each other actually multiplied when we brought Daniel home. It strengthened our love for each other as we jointly sought to meet the needs of this wonderful new creature in our lives.

I am overjoyed that there are two people waiting to board a plane to California right this moment that are on the verge of discovering this for themselves. I'm an ecstatic bystander and can't wait to share in their joy...

What a Wonderful World

A charming video sent to me by my friend Melissa...
(course, you'll wanna pause my playlist to be able to listen!)

10.0

I was at the height of teenage angst when the 1984 Olympics aired. What young girl in America didn't want to be Mary Lou Retton, standing up there on the podium, accepting the Olympic gold metal?

Never having much of a gymnast body (or talent for that matter), I could only dream of floor routines, double twisty things on the uneven bars and pulling off a vault worthy of a 10.0

But, under water I can.

Tonight, the husband and son unit accompanied me to the pool for a late night swim. As my husband rocketed my five year old through the air, I did somersaults and floated on my back in the cool water. As I was performing my best aquatic acrobatics, I realized that--underwater-- I can be whatever I want to be... especially a gymnast. The weightlessness that the water provided allowed me to stretch my body and perform everything from a tuck and twist to a fully outstretched layback position. Of course, when I landed (simultaneously on both feet like any respectable gymnast aims to do...) I threw my arms back in a victorious manner...10.0...the crowd goes wild....

OK...wayyyyyyy too many people read this that know me. What in the heck and I doing giving them even MORE fodder for ridicule than I already have? :-)

Perspective

Today was a rough day.

Without going into all the nitty gritty details, suffice it to say that I received a one-two-and maybe even-three punch with some expenses dropped on us... we had a planned renovation of a guest bath that ended today... "cha-ching"...then our home study expired for our adoption so that expense is upon us...cha-ching... then my golden retriever gets sick from a bone she ate and I take her to the vet. Twenty minutes later the doc comes out with a diagnosis of "let's keep an eye on her" and they bring in the bill. $500.

FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS, Y'ALL.

X-rays, blood work... and a wait and see and I'm suddenly $500 in the hole. It's not that she not worth it...or that their expertise is not worth it...it's just that I was expecting something around $100.

Later on, I was reminded by a friend (kiddingly) about a nice chat I had with a deputy sherrif on the way home from Florida that resulted in a a little yellow piece of paper. Oh yeah, that, too. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.

So, I was sharing my financial woes with hubby who's traveling on business. And, he just so happened to be traveling through a city where we used to live and he had this thought on my our situation:

"You know, there was a time when we were right outta' college and you used to drive a long way to work, twice a day for next to nothin...and then your car broke down and we didn't have the money to fix it...and that time our power went out and we lost all our groceries and couldn't afford to replace them...you know what? We've come a long way since then. No matter what, we're gonna be O.K."

That's all I needed. A little reassurance from my glass-half-full guy. I love that man.

Lullabye Dreams

I stood there and surveyed the room. The light yellow walls were soft and pale and gave off a soothing glow in the late afternoon sun. The crib was ready and the rocking chair sat patiently waiting in the corner...waiting to engage in its gentle back and forth motion as lullabies fill the room.

On the other side of the room was a changing table with baskets of tightly rolled washclothes...all freshly laundered and in neat little rows. The diaper stacker contained the exact number of brand new diapers that it would hold and a box of unopened baby wipes stood at its ready position. I felt a lump in my throat as I watched my friend Melissa point out all the new "baby things" she received at her shower. Soft-sided building blocks and a basket of snow white bibs await the child that is soon to be theirs.

They received the call earlier today.

The birthmother is having contractions and all the signs point to a soon-to-be-delivery. Airline reservations were hastily made, suitcases were sitting atop the bed and the anticipation floated in the air...the same air that held wishes and dreams of a child of their own...the very air where prayers had been uttered night after night and where two wonderful people talked of one day starting a family.

As hard as I tried to hold them back, the tears flowed freely as I watched her proudly move about the room. It was ready. This once guest/catch-all room had been transformed into the perfect nursery. My emotions got the best of me as I recalled the evening before we flew to pick up our own son. Even now as I write, tears well up in my eyes as I thank God for bestowing upon our friends this very special gift.

Not long from now, they will hold their baby and they will discover the limitless love presented to a parent the moment they behold the face of their child. Very soon there will be laughter and tears and sweet, sweet dreams...lullabye dreams there in the pale yellow room.

I can't think of anyone more deserving.