Monday, December 12, 2011

Eye Love Mom



( Note to reader: Eye found this unpublished blog and thought eye would share.)

I hope to think I am like most Moms, rushing out of the house in the mornings grabbing my kid’s things as I go…mind you I fix my hair and makeup at work, so there really is no reason I should be in a tizzy.

But, as usual it was the case this morning.

I feel like I need to give you a bit of background information, to better understand this story…and why I felt so bad.

Noah, my oldest, wears glasses. He broke them about two weeks ago, and don’t judge me…but we finally got them fixed. And by “we”, I mean Brent.

Anyhow, we are rushing out of the door heading for school and I grabbed the glasses, handed them to Noah and told him to put them on.

Noah does and as we walk outside he gets to the end of my car and stops. He stares at the neighbor’s house, like he is seeing it for the VERY first time. I stand there and stare at him, feeling HORRIBLE that he has had to go for so long without his glasses.

I continue to buckle Kipper into his car seat and tell Noah to climb in. Still buckling Kipper’s seat, Noah asks me, “Do these make my eyes look big?”

I look up from Kipper’s seat and say, “no.”  But something is different…I stare at the glasses pushed up on his face and think…kind of. That’s when it hits me.

“Noah, you are wearing Poppy’s glasses,” I said. “Can you see out of those things?”

Noah looks at me; his eyes the size of quarters and says, “I guess.”

"Well, why didn't you say something."

So, already late, I run back inside grab the right glasses and chuckle to myself.

Eye really do hate mornings.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Call on God

 I try to teach my kids the importance of relying on our Heavenly Father to help us through life’s turbulence.

I tell them, no matter what trust in God with all your heart to bring you through whatever it is you are struggling with. Ask and you shall receive.

In my own life, I constantly pray to our Father that he guide my steps, my decisions and eases my troubles.

God does work things out, it might not be when you think it should happen, but he always comes through.

As a Mom of two very energetic little boys, it is hard to know if they are listening.

I got my proof Monday night in a public restroom.

Okay, I must lay a little ground work here.

Kipper has a problem when it comes to going to the bathroom, number two. (I know, he will kill me when he’s older for sharing this tid bit of information.)

Anyway, Monday night my family went out to eat to celebrate my nephew’s 13th birthday.

Kipper and I got to the restaurant early and I suggested he use the bathroom.

He repeatedly denied having to go, until he sees the video games and I told him, “You can’t play any until you go to the bathroom.”

Kipper replied, “You’re right I do have to go.”

So we enter the bathroom, go into the first empty stall and he sits down.

He’s sitting on the potty and proceeds to try and use the bathroom when suddenly he yells and I am not over exaggerating.

He screams, “JESUS!” (it is long and drawn out like, “GEEEEEESUSSSSS!)

Mind you there ARE other people in the restroom.

“Jesus!” he continues, still trying to use the bathroom and still yelling. “Pray Mama, pray God helps me go to the bathroom!”

Silently, I pray that he will be able to use the bathroom, and pray no one can hear us!

Apparently, my silent prayer isn’t good enough.

Kipper yells, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU! PRAY TO JESUS, HE WILL HELP US!”

So, there in that bathroom stall, crouched down next to my little boy I pray.

I prayed God would help Kipper use the bathroom, and thanked him for showing me my kids are listening.

By the way, God did help Kipper go potty, although it wasn’t at the restaurant; it was later that night at home.

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." Mathew 7:7

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Hair today, gone in a hurry!


For anyone who knows me, they know, I hate to get a haircut. I am very picky…and I usually leave the salon in tears. It does not matter how it looks, I always hate it.

I have been putting off a haircut for six months. Well, I could not take it any longer (literally) and went to get a trim. 

Noah tagged alone, why I agreed…I have no idea.

Let me start by saying, I love to sleep and on the weekends, especially.

Okay, I am sitting in the salon chair and Noah is sitting in the one next to me. He’s picking up everything, telling the stylist she’s “rich” because he sees all her tip money and making the chair go up and down.

I am about ready to tell the girl to cut my head off along with my hair.

Well, the stylist, being the polite person she is, starts to make small talk.

She’s asking about my weekend, what we had planned, etc…etc.

She proceeds to tell me, she got up and made breakfast for her family.

About that time, Noah pauses from spinning in the chair and chimes in,
“My Mom does not get up early.”

I look over at him and give him “the look”, trying to convey to him to be quiet.

Guess he couldn’t see my eyes with all the hair hanging in them because he says, “Yeah, she’s lazy.”

I try to explain that sleeping till 8 a.m. on the weekend is not lazy… (Who am I kidding; I sleep till 9 or 9:30.)

To save myself any further embarrassment, I suggest, “Noah, go look at a magazine.”

I’m sure you already know, he wasn’t interested, instead he goes back to inspecting the tip money.

“My Mom is going to give me three dollars,” he says.

Of course, I know how he earned the money and I am praying, “please, be quiet…you’ve done enough talking for the three of us!”

I’m sure you already know this, but Noah goes on to explain how he earned the money.

“Yeah, I brushed my Mom’s hair, scratched her back and massaged her shoulders.”

On the bright side, I didn’t leave the salon in tears this time…just in a hurry!



Friday, August 19, 2011

A week of winning and losing.



What a week. Noah has the first week of first grade under his belt and Kipper; well…he made it through the week, almost.

Let’s just say it has been a week of winning and loosing.

Winning, as Charlie Sheen would say, because no one over slept, my mother-n-law took me to see a movie, and Kipper learned to do squats at recess.

If only that winning streak would have stretched out a couple of days.

The downhill decent started Wednesday.

First, I went to pick up Noah from school and my car broke down in the parking lot.

As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough…Noah stands in front of the car and yells to all the other parents…”Our car broke down…our car is broken, it won’t start.”

He’s even pointing to me and the car, to make sure everyone knows which car he was talking about. (loosing)

Apparently, my car overheated without warning and needed a new fan.

The car was fixed, two days later. (winning)

The score would not stay tied, long.

Today, Kipper woke up and told me, “I’m sick. Can you stay home with me?”

Being the working mother that I am, I could not miss work.

Noticing he did not feel warm, and wasn’t complaining of any particular ailment, I quickly dressed him, put him in the car and off to school we went.

I would soon be feeling very ill.

After dropping Noah off in the carpool line, where he even gave me a kiss goodbye (winning)…Kipper and I departed for his school.

As soon as we walk into the school doors Kipper refuses to walk. I had to literally drag him to class. Once we reach the classroom door, he takes off running. (loosing)

After I successfully round him up, I take him to the bathroom and explain this is not the kind of behavior I expect from a four year old.

We walk to his classroom, where he hides his face and once again refused to move.

Outdone, I hand him over to the teacher and head to my grandparent's house for coffee.

One hour later, just as I am finishing my morning cup of Joe, Kipper’s school calls.

“April?” says the caller.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Kipper threw up, and you need to come get him,” relays the caller.

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” I say hanging up the phone.
Less than five minutes later I walk into the office and see Kipper sitting in a chair, next to a trash can, smiling.

“You sick, buddy?” I ask him, feeling his face.

“Yep, I threw up in the trashcan,” he says.

My eyes look to the trashcan at his feet, when he quickly says…”Not that one.”

“Oh, which one?” I question.

“The one in the bathroom,” he answers.

“Well, did anyone see you?” I ask.

“No,” he tells me.

With little choice, I pick him up, and take him to the car.

Once he’s buckled, I’m buckled and we are pulling out he asks from the backseat…”Can we go to Burger King?”

Kipper spends the day with my Dad and brother eating ice cream, cookies and playing outside. (Kipper, winning)

My brother said when he told Kipper to do something, Kipper replied…

“You’re not the boss of me, you’re just my Uncle…looser!”

Well, at least I’m not the only one. (winning)

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Where does the time go?

 

The summer is winding down, and tomorrow my oldest child, Noah, starts the 1st grade. I can hardly believe he is old enough to be a 1st grader. It feels like yesterday that I walked him into his Kindergarten class, and over stayed my welcome when he finally told me to go.

Kipper D. is three days into 4K and already he’s learning things. Such as, his teacher’s favorite candy bar is a Butterfinger and that Laura Lynn wants to marry him. (Good to know, Kipper.)

I wish he could tell me, where does the time go?

Thank goodness, I have two comical little boys who teach me to enjoy each moment.

Moments such as when Kipper tells me to put his lunch box behind my “big back” so no one will see it. (Of course, I heard “you have a fat back.”)

Moments when Noah asks if the four dollars he’s saved in pennies in a clay pot is enough to buy a bike. (Not even close, son.)

Of course, watching my boys grow up is something all parents go through…and all parents ask themselves where did the time go?

Just today, I asked my own mother if it felt weird to say she has a 34 year old daughter.

A daughter who prays daily she isn’t messing up, too much, at motherhood.

Why think such a thing? Well, here’s one reason…

This summer, Kipper told me and Brent he wanted a new family. Mind you, he’d just gotten into trouble for something.

Well, Brent’s cousin, Justin, came to visit us from Ohio.

Justin brought his friend, Matt, along.

As Justin and Matt are bringing in their bags to spend the night, Kipper asks if we are going somewhere.

Not missing a beat, Brent and I say, “Kipper, you wanted a new family…so here they are!”

Kipper, not missing a beat, looks at the two boys, scrunches up his face and asks, “Which one is the Mama?”

So, as I send my boys off to school, to start new chapters in all of our lives…I will cherish the moments they’ve made me laugh, made me question my parental abilities, made me proud and made me ask, “Where did the time go?” 

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Parental Guidance

Right now, we are on vacation visiting our dear friends the Dobson family. Long before the "family", there were two pre-teen boys, who met on the school bus heading to Hillsdale Middle.

I can imagine Brent and Sean both wearing Jams and talking about the latest "Family Ties" episode. 

There on the cheese wagon a friendship was born. A friendship that would span decades and a trek across Europe...not to mention convincing Mrs. Dobson to buy them the "Luke Skywalker" cassette tape - this of course long before the days the words parental guidance were stamped to the side.

Call me crazy, but the idea of driving 900 plus miles with a four and six year old to visit Sean and Allison, as well as their two boys, Jacob and Liam, was exciting.

So, after more than 24 hours of driving and a tour of interstate gas stations, we finally arrived in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Of course, the trip up was not without its comical moments.

After a brief stop at a North Carolina Walmart, when Brent said the boys could not have any crayons...Noah shouted at me, "Why did you even marry him."

Kipper asked a million times, "Are we there, yet?" He even got mad at Sean and Allison for moving to Virginia saying, "Why do they have to live so far?"

All of that frustration faded once we pulled into the driveway and say Jacob sitting in his room waiting for us at the window.

From the start, Noah and Liam hit it off...two peas in a pod. Kipper was immediately drawn to the boys Lego set...and has hidden a few in the bedroom drawer because he took the head off. (We will replace them.)

All that said, the drive up was worth it...especially for Brent.

To share his life with one of his oldest friends, to once again reminisce about the "good ole days." Trips to TCBY or a legendary soccer match.

I like to think; Brent and Sean were and still are much like Noah and Liam. The two are instant friends. Noah wants to do everything Liam does...and I do mean everything.

Case in point...our first day here we walked to the Chesapeake Bay.

After kayaking and playing in the sand, Liam decides to lie out on the beach.

Noah grabs his towel to do the same.

We wonder if they are tired...but Liam says..."We are tanning."

Noah says, "Yeah, we're tanning." He says it with such authority and lays his head on the towel.

Then Noah turns to Liam and whispers..."what's tanning?"

Both enjoy video games and are fond of "hot girls."

So, as our vacation draws to a close...I am thankful for the memories we have made, for Sean and Allison opening their home up to us and the words "parental guidance."

Because if Noah and Liam are anything like Brent and Sean...me and Allison will need all the help we can get.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

100 Days

I know it has been awhile since my last entry...but rest assured it is not for lack of content.

Let's see, Noah was rushed to the ER Christmas Eve because Kipper busted his lip open with a wooden spoon. When I showed Kipper the picture of Noah's swollen lip his reaction, "Wow...I didn't know I could do that."

So, Noah celebrated Christmas with three stitches and a tiny scar serves as a permanent reminder. You'll be happy to know, Kipper still announces, "I didn't poop in my pants" and still beats the snot out of Paw Paw.

But this is where my story begins. Noah celebrated 100 days of Kindergarten with a parade at school. I took my lunchbreak and went to see my growing boy marching in the parking lot wearing a mask and chanting "100 Days."

After the parade I took Noah with me back to work since it was almost time for dismissal and I wouldn't have time to finish my work and pick him up by 5:30.

Now, Noah loves coming to visit everyone at Fox Ten. After you hear this story you will understand why it will be 100 PLUS days before I bring him back.

While I finished my work, Noah wanted to go and talk to my boss. Yes, the man who hired me, decides my pay and controls my destiny in this business we call news.

Okay, picture this...I see Jackie our secretary laughing uncontrollably, Chasity Byrd busting at the seams and my boss rolling with laughter too. In the middle of it all Noah - still wearing his school uniform and charm from his 100 days parade.

I rush into the boss' office and ask Chasity, "What did he say?" I didn't have to wait for the answer...Noah was still giving his impromptu stand up routine about my behavior at home.

First he puts his hand on his hip and tells the boss, "Mama might be nice at work, but she is not nice at home."

Okay...not so bad right? Every kid thinks their Mama can be mean.

Well, it didn't stop there.

"She yells at me and tells me to go to your room," said Noah. Mind you he is very demonstrative in his speaking. Pointing his finger and yelling.

The show continues..."She spanks me too. One time she stepped on my leg and I had to do this..." This is the part where Noah jumps on one leg to show everyone how he had to walk after I apparently stepped on his leg.

Okay I think, I can handle this. I obviously didn't step on his leg on purpose and yes, I do tell him to go to his room.

But this, the next three words uttered from his little mouth are what caused me to wish Kipper would magically appear and knock me unconscious with that infamous wooden spoon.

"AND SHE FARTS!"

Yep, he told the boss I fart...not pass gas or poot, but FART.

How do I recover from this? I say the only thing that comes to mind.

"Noah, why would you say that?"

There's a common saying in court, never ask a witness a question when you don't know the answer.

I definitely didn't see this answer coming.

"Because you do," Noah said.

Again, where is that wooden spoon.

Monday, January 24, 2011

A Fallen Hero

Someone once asked me, "Doesn't your job make you sad?" I answered, "No. It makes me appreciate life."

I have covered several heartbreaking stories, but today was the first time I have witnessed the body of a service member killed in action brought back to his family.

Cpl. Joseph Whitehead was 22 years old when he was killed in Afghanistan.

I waited on the tarmac along with more than a hundred other people and watched the plane carrying his body taxi down the runway to his grieving family.

Methodically, a ramp was set up to lower his casket from the plane. I watched in awe, my heart breaking for his family.

As soon as the casket was visible, Joseph's mother screamed his name.

The wind carried her cries, as six Marines carried Joseph's flag draped casket to a waiting hearse. The rest of us stood in silence.

Moments like this, I am reminded of how precious life is.

Covering death is hard to do. Yet, I am fortunate. You see, I don't have to experience it so intimately, to appreciate life and the lives of the people I love.

I came home tonight and told my children I love them and hugged them. All the while, I thought about Joseph's mother and how she couldn't do that anymore...and I thanked God I still can.


Cpl. Joseph Whitehead