Another week down, where does the time go?

This week has been a good one, but stressful, and short. Brad took his final tonight in what we hope will be the LAST class that he has to take at UAB to get his Accounting degree. Most of you already know that Brad has a Business degree from Mississippi State. After college, he was blessed with a job as an accountant with Saks Incorporated. It was during his time at Saks that he realized that accounting was where his interests were and he was encouraged by his boss and friend Rod to go forward and receive his degree in Accounting. Like most occupations, accountants must have a degree in accounting in order to be paid what they are worth. Brad has been very blessed in the last four years to have received good accounting positions, with decent salaries without his degree. However, to advance in his career he had to finish this degree. It has been a very long four years for all of us, especially him. In the beginning, he only took one class at a time until he realized how many years it would take him to actually finish. Then he started taking two and three classes a semester, on top of a full time job and a family. I really do not know how he did it. I look back at all of the long nights he spent at work, and then came home to study and admire his determination. I would not have the patience that he has had to go through all of this for four years, but thankfully he is not like me. If he passes this last class, which I really believe he will, we will be free of text books and nights during the week without him while he is sitting in a classroom at UAB. I am praying that he will find out his grade soon, and that it will be good.
He and Tucker are downstairs right now watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars, that is their thing to do on Friday nights. I am supposed to be down there as well, but had to write for a few minutes. Tucker gave me permission to read my book and not watch the movie, but I must be in the chair down in the den with them. He really does not like it when I read, Connor doesn't like it either. I only grab my book when they are playing with each other or watching a movie. Somehow, they can be engrossed in their own activity, and the second I sit down in my chair, arrange my blanket across my legs and open my book, I have two little faces looking up at me inquiringly as if saying, "What do you think you are doing mommy?" Connor will go as far as to close my book on me, sometimes losing my place, which is pretty frustrating when you are reading a 1000 page book! That is why I reserve my serious reading for after 9:00 when the boys are in the bed and I am free from interruption. My own ritual gets me into trouble when I stay up too late reading, as I did last night until 1:00 in the morning when I have to get everyone up at 6:15. I can function on 5 hours of sleep for one night, but add two or three nights to that and my brain turn to oatmeal. My brain is really runny oatmeal tonight, so I am going to go ahead and stop blogging before I start being redundant, if I haven't started doing that already.

If you are reading this, and you are someone who loves and has faith in our Lord, and knows our family, please say a prayer for Brad tonight. Pray that he will have passed his class and will be finished with his accounting degree. I know that there are other things that you need to pray for as well, but just this once, pray for my sweet, precious, loving husband who deserves this degree more than anyone else I can think of.

God bless you all, and to you all a good night!
April

Sylvester Croom's retirement and the audacity of MSU

First, let me state that I grew up a University of Alabama fan, attended, and recieved a graduate degree from the University of Alabama. My father is a huge Bama fan, and my childhood memories include watching the games with my dad on Saturday mornings during football season. This is all relevant to this post, because for the past 5 years I have been a Mississippi State fan because of thier now former coach, Sylvester Croom.

Brad and I started dating in May 2000, and he took me to my first Mississippi State game in August of that year. Jackie Sherrill was the coach at that time. In the beginning, I was not really fired up about MSU, but did enjoy tailgating before and after the games. I am also a person who enjoys new experiences, and being on the MSU campus was a completely different world from the Uof A campus where I had gone to college. I was in awe of the tailgaters, and the fans over all committment to a team that never seemed to win a game. Being used to Alabama fans, who run in the other direction after the second loss of the season, I was impressed by the stamina the State fans had in dealing with continual losses. In the year 2000 State was actually a very impressive football team. They had a player, with the last name Smoot, who wore the number 2 jersey, and was AWESOME. He had personality, and spunk, speed, and attitude, all of which was very entertaining to watch. He now plays for the Washington Redskins, unless he has been traded this past year. In the year 2000 found myself learing the names of the football players as the season progressed, and I can still remember Pig Prather. By the end of the year, I had decided that cheering for MSU would be a lot of fun, and supportive of my then boyfriend. However, I was by no means a "Fan". Until 5 years ago when they hired Croom.

Sylvester Croom is an outstanding man. As an outsider of the MSU family, I can honestly say that Sly Croom turned the MSU football program around from the inside out. He walked into a locker room filled with hoods who would walk out on the football field and break every rule in the book, because they had absolutely no discipline. Those same hoods would not go to class and flunk every semester but would somehow manage to play football for a university. The team was like a field containing a rotten crop that would no longer produce. Slowly Coach Croom tilled and weeded the field until it started to produce upstanding individuals who made thier priorities right. Those priorities are God, Family, school, and Football. Coach Croom did not just care about how those boys played the game on a football field, he wanted to make sure that these kids could play in the game called life. He was a model father figure for those boys who had no father figure in the home. He and his wife served as a safe haven for kids that came from bad neighborhoods, or rough families. Most of all, Coach Croom did not take any crap, and the players who really wanted to play at MSU, wanted to play for Croom because they respected him. Sylvester Croom changed the public image of Missippi State from that of a joke of a team made up of roughians, to a university with a football team that was regarded as well mannered and disciplined.

Now, MSU has "let" Coach Croom resign. In my mind, this is the biggest screw up in the history of the SEC, and somebody's head should roll. Somehow, this new guy they have in the athletic director's seat has the audacity to think that he is going to find a better coach for this second rate University and its third rate football program. It isn't a secret that MSU has the worst athletic facilities of any other university in the SEC. Five years ago, the campus looked like crap, with old buildings standing on the corners of streets filled with potholes and cracked sidewalks. The university has prospered more during the years of Croom than it had in all of the years that Sherrill was coach. If a person with common sense and the ability to read a spreadsheet, were to look over the records of alumni giving to MSU, they would see that wealthy alums believed in Croom, and the future of the football program, so they donated money. How do you think that they got that huge scoreboard with the screen that you can see from Columbus? The new buildings all over campus, and the beautiful sidewalks and landscaping? Money from an alumni who was obviously proud of their football team and the future for MSU, in which Croom was the coach.
Yes, there is no doubt that State had a really bad year this year. However, I think that universities are so hypocritical when they judge a season and a coach to be detrimental while forgetting that that same coach led them to the Liberty Bowl the year before. My question to this new idiot they have running the athletic department is: "Who in the hell do you think you are going to get to replace Coach Croom?" He acts as if he has all of these great prospects. Yeah right. Your prospects just went out the door, and they are closing it in your face.

Saturday was a sad day in our house. I was stunned when Brad told me that Croom had resigned. My son Tucker, cried when I told him. I can't cheer for State anymore, because now I see that the leaders of that university are audacious and stupid, which when combined make a lethal combination. My alliance will fall back to the Tide, who has a winning season, but a jerk for a coach. I will not even want to attend many games at State next year, because if they do manage to win a game, I won't know who to give the credit to.

My favorite image of Coach Croom is that of the first Egg Bowl win for State after he became the coach. I can't remember the year, all I remember is watching a grown man, father, and grandfather grab his players and cry with joy over a win that was hard fought and very much deserved. Brad and I had gone to the basketball game following the game that same night, and to our surprise, Coach Croom ran into the collesium, onto the gym floor, at half time, carrying the Egg above his head with gratitude on his face instead of pride. I will tell you that I cried with happiness for him, and what he represented as a person to the university and the south. He is a man of substance, a true leader, and foremost, a good person.

Mississippi State, you deserve what you get in the upcoming year. I am sure your fans will still come to the games, because they are loyal. Loyalty on the MSU campus seems to end with the fans as far as I can see.

Good luck to you Coach Croom. I know that I will be a fan of yours from here on out. Wherever you go, and whatever you do, God will bless you, as you have blessed others.

Tucker lost another tooth!

Tucker lost another tooth tonight. This was the first tooth he has lost on the front, and I have to say he is even cuter as a snagletooth! The tooth has been loose to the point of falling out since Thursday. I have been very worried that it would fall out while he was sleeping and he would swallow it! He grinds his teeth at night and every morning I had to hold my breath before looking to make sure the tooth was still there. Finally, tonight he decided that he would try to pull it himself. It was basically hanging there, but he kept trying to pull it forward and it wouldn't budge. I told him to twist it, and POP! out it came! He was shocked and excited. I was very proud of the little guy!

Girls night out and Daddy daycare II

I just returned from a great dinner with my friend Margaret Ann. She and I had been wanting do celebrate her birthday all week, and we were finally able to do something together. We went to a local Mexican restaurant and had huge strawberry and mango margaritas and just sat and caught up with each other for three hours. It was a very nice relaxing visit. Rarely do we get to go to dinner or anywhere without our children in tow, so it was a special treat.

I have to say that having good girl friends in life is very important. Your husband will be with you until you die (hopefully) and he is always going to be your "best friend". However there are some things that men just can't relate to, and that is when your girls step in. I have been blessed with really good friends in my life. I am not a person who has tons and tons of close friends. I have a small knit group of women who I know I can count on, and who hopefully know that they can count on me, whenever I am needed. My friend Alex and I were having a girls night out once a month, before we had our second children, now we try to at least email each other and talk on the phone as much as possible. We are also going to start doing things during the day together so that we don't take away from family time at night.
I am thankful to all of you girls, you know who you are, my rocks of Gibraltar, who I lean on and laugh with through thick and thin.

Brad and Tucker are in the bed behind me. Brad is snoring like a freight train. He doesn't believe me when I tell him that he snores. Now Tucker will be my witness, when I wake him up and let him listen to his daddy bringing the house down. Tucker, Connor and Brad had a good night together. According to Tucker, they worked on some basketball "motions" and watched Star Wars the Clone Wars, ate chicken sticks (actually fish sticks, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him) and took a bath. I am proud of my husband for feeding and bathing my children tonight. He has really stepped up this week since I have been sick and I am grateful to him for that! Connor still walks around with a toothbrush in his mouth most of the day thanks to the last time Daddy babysat, but I am going to work on getting rid of that obsession next week.

We are going to watch the Alabama/ MSU game tomorrow night with Papa and Mimi. I spent about thirty minutes tonight trying to explain to my son that the Bulldogs are not going to win, and that he needs to come away from the dark side and start rolling with the Tide. His exact words to me were, "No way mommy, I love the bulldogs. We are going to eat those elephants tomorrow." My husband could have worked for Hitler in the area of brainwashing, he is so good that my child actually believes 1. the MSU might win tomorrow. 2. Alabama really isn't a good football team. 3. that he can chose his own team and doesn't chose the bulldogs just because daddy likes them. I know that part of me will still cheer for State, because I want Croom to beat Saban, but I will keep that to myself in front of my dad. Saban is just not a good person, I think he is a pompous jerk and am dissapointed that he is the coach of my alma mater.
What is this world coming too? 'Rock' Obama is president, my child thinks that Mississippi State is really the number one team in the nation, and my toddler continues to throw everything he can get his hands on into our fireplace (won't be using that this winter.) Just a note to friends: If we come to visit your house, keep all things that even look round out of Connor's line of vision. We will not be held liable for balls or other circular objects being thrown down toilets, fireplaces, ovens, air vents, and shoved into open refrigerator doors. All efforts are being made to control our toddler, but progress is slow, so be patient, and move quickly if he throws something in your direction.

The Lunchbox and Pumpkin Saga

I am tired today from all of the activity we had this week. I did not really leave the house except for a grocery store trip, but keeping two little ones yesterday wore me out.
Tucker is hilarious. He came home today, in his usual way, through Jake's backyard. I can hear the two of them talking as soon as they get off of the bus and into the woods. Their conversations crack me up. Evidently the little girl from behind Jake's house was trying to follow them home today. I know this because the first thing I heard was Tucker saying, "Go home now! You're not supposed to follow us!" So much for being a Casanova.
He and Jake emerged from the woods looking around Jake's yard forming their plan to get around Chester, the manic German Shepherd that is tied to his leash on a wire run. Tucker said, "Plan B is to get around Chester." Jake said, " Plan B? We have to get through plan A first, and THAT is to get around Chester." I watched them from the deck as usual, listening to their conversation about how much homework each of them had to do and the time it would take before they could play outside. They told each other good bye, and Tucker walked across the little wooden bridge that lays across the creek that runs in between our houses. He came running up the steps to our deck yelling, "Mommy!" and then his happy face went sad. I asked him why he was sad and he said, " I lost my lunch box today, someone took it from my peg in the coat room and I will never be able to take my lunch again!!" He looked up at me with his big blue eyes, and the sadness in them was too much to take. I started laughing and he immediately got offended. I told him that it would be okay, that his name was written all over it and who ever took it would see that and bring it back to school tomorrow. To that he replied," But they won't know who I am." The mind of a 6 year old runs dark. He actually thinks that someone in his class of 19 kids would not know who he was. When in fact, almost every kid in his school seems to know his name, and he doesn't remember any one's name. I am confident that the lunchbox will return tomorrow. I have an extra one to send with him in the meantime.
For some reason, he then turned his attention to the pumpkin that is still on the deck from when he brought it home from school last Thursday. He looked at me with the most serious face and said the following, " We need to plant this pumpkin! I have seeds in here that will grow, and we need to plant it now. Look at that garden back there mommy. You and Daddy have not taken advantage of it in a long time. We could grow our own food you know? And that fence around it, that is redikelious (his pronunciation) daddy really needs to fix it, it is worn out! What is happening around here?" As he was giving me this tirade, his hands were on his hips and he was pointing and gesturing just like I do when I am giving him a lecture. I started laughing and this time he didn't seem to mind. He told me, "I am going to plant this pumpkin today. Look at that sunlight, we need to take advantage of it now. Redikelious mommy, just redikelious." I told him to go ahead and I would watch him. He picked up the pumpkin and walked off the deck toward the back of the yard. He got half way there before he turned around and came back. Sitting the pumpkin on the railing he looked at me, all 6 years of him and said, "Well, I think this is something that I need daddy to help me with. So, I will just leave the pumpkin here until he gets home. Let's go inside, this sun is making me hot."

Life with kids, is so much fun. I have no idea what I laughed about before they were born!

Hope on the horizon

Well, after my rant last night, I have decided to post a lighter note on the blog. If I offended anyone last night who voted for Obama, I apologize. My intention was not to offend, but to inform.

I kept our neighbor's 21 month old today. His mom is in training for a new job, and until now has not needed care for him during the day. He is a precious little guy, and he and Connor got along well for the most part. Connor did not want to share his toys with him, and pushed him once. Which was funny to watch because Connor is about half his size. Poor Kaelyn just looked at Connor like he had two noses and then looked at me as if to say, "What do I do now?" I gave Connor a stern no, and then gave Kaelyn a big hug. He has a sweet smile, and is just a happy baby. Our neighbors do not seem to provide a very good home life for their children, and for that reason, I have always felt the need to make thier kids at home in our house. The parents are good people, for the most part. I just don't think that they have the kids needs in mind when they are making parenting decisions. You saw Jake's costume for Halloween, on the Halloween post. Poor guy. The daughter, Jewel came to our house one day when it was snowing with no shoes on, wet hair, and pajamas. In fact, the child never has on shoes. I have asked her to wear them because she is cheer leading and I know from past experience that keeping your arch in tact is key to tumbling. Thankfully, she has started wearing shoes when she runs down our paved street and when she rides her bicycle. It is sad to see the kids not wearing coats on cold mornings, because I know they have them, their mom just never thinks about making them wear a coat. Somehow they don't eat at their house. The older child, Jewel has said that they don't eat dinner at home and there isn't much food in the house. So last summer, I fed them most nights out of a sense of duty. They like coming to our house, and I like knowing that they feel taken care of here.

Connor is a capital M mess. He is the polar opposite of his brother when it comes to temperament. Tucker has a temper, but it is usually directed at himself, when he makes a mistake or gets into trouble. Connor gets mad if anything doesn't go his way. He throws everything in sight sometimes just to do it. Everything means, sippy cups, food, toys, cars, accessories, if he can reach it, he will throw it. When you tell him no, he just keeps on doing it. When Tucker was his age, if I got stern with him, he would cry as if I had broken his heart. Connor just looks at me like, "so what?". Connor is going to be a rebel just like me, and I am sad that he inherited that personality trait. I got lucky with Tucker. God let me off easy with him, in that I didn't have to suffer the mischievousness and mutiny that I gave my parents as a child and teenager. My attitude towards most things is, "If you are mad at me, get over it, because I will." Except when it comes to people I truly care about, like my parents and friends. He is also like me in that he thinks that his charm can get him out of sticky situations. I was a con artist at the age of 6, and was very proud of it. I cheated on tests like it was nothing, and never got caught. I could lie to you with a straight face and never feel guilty for it. I was the one who went into the Phillips 66 station when we were 16 to buy our beer. None of my other friends would do it, but I would. If someone older, bigger, and tougher than me smarted off to me or one of my friends, it was me who confronted them. I had a Napoleon complex, but the female version. Now I have become a mom in the true sense and have shed my outer layer of hostility. It's still there, and can come out now and again, but for the most part that side of me is kept quiet.

All that to say is that I am afraid my little sugar bear is going to give me ulcers as he grows up. What comes around goes around, and it is about to catch me I am afraid. Thankfully Tucker is like his daddy, I couldn't handle two of myself. My poor husband can't even handle me as it is. I feel sorry for him one day, and want to berate him the next. Such is life and marriage. I remember Jackie Gleason saying, "I'm gonna send you to the moon!" Honeymoons don't last that long but love can outlast anything as long as you are willing to let it prosper.

Well, I am sufficiently sleepy tonight, without the need of red wine. So I will join my snoring sweetheart in our comfy bed and thank the Lord for the roof over my head, my children who are in their beds, and for saving me, from myself. Thank you Jesus! Good night!

It's the end of the world as we know it

Well, the election is not yet over, but the results seem to be clear. I believe that the anti-Christ will soon be presiding over what was once the most influential country in the world. I know, calling "rock obama" as Tucker calls him, the anti - Christ is a little much, but you never know.

People, what you have seen here is a major failure to communicate. Our society has completely succumbed to the greatest ploy ever known to man, and that would be the media. There is a term for what the media has done to us, it is called "Wag the Dog". There has even been an exceptional movie made on this tactic, called "Wag the Dog". You should watch it, and feel ashamed at what we have let take place today. Today is a day that will live in infamy, and my friends, we have not asked what we could do for our country, but instead have let our country turn us into a bunch of fools.

The old saying, "history repeats itself" is true, we have witnessed it over and over again. The problem is that most people find history boring, because it is taught that way. Who wants to memorize a bunch of dates and names of dead people that you can't pronounce much less remember their significance. However there is a reason the every lawyer in this country is asked to either major in Literature or History before entering law school. There is also a reason that all law school classes consist of memorization of previous cases that made history by the rulings that were handed down, and turned into acts or laws that we are now governed by. Most of our forefathers left Europe to escape the government, which was composed of wealthy, prideful, arrogant, sinful, aristocrats who brought nothing but poverty and abuse down on their subordinates. Our ancestors left these countries to start a new one, where freedom would reign and democracy would be enforced. Now, hundreds of years later, we have let ourselves fall back into the trap that they fought so hard to get out of. Do you remember a little piece of history called the French Revolution? A king and his queen were beheaded at the request of their countrymen because the immigrants who had escaped England to come to America were forming a revolution. The American revolution was fought to ensure that England's monarchy could not take over the new country that the immigrants had founded. The New Americans, as we were called, were wearing a tri colored ribbon of red, white and blue, which stood for revolution. Word spread to France, and french adopted the tri color ribbon that was being worn in the states as a sign to other citizens that they were part of the revolutionary cause. At this time the people of France were starving because their king was too busy enjoying himself to worry about making sure that the crops were harvested properly and the people were taken care of. The wheat that they were forced to make bread of was poisonous, and thousands of men, women and children died before someone figured out that it was the food on their tables that were killing them. When Marie Antoinette told them to eat cake, she literally meant for them to eat cake, because it was made from flower that was safe from the contaminated wheat in the fields. She lost her head, and this famous quote is all people remember her for.

The Europeans figured out that they were pawns on a chessboard, for the monarchy to push around at a whim. These people decided they had taken enough abuse and decided to fight back, and won. Now we too have become pawns, and chess mate has been called.

When God created us, he created us to be like sheep, in that he wanted us to follow His commands. He gave us a shepherd, his name is Jesus. We have not let Jesus be our shepherd, instead we are following a wolf in sheep's clothing and he is leading us to a very high cliff that we will fall off of one by one, unless we wake up from our stupidity and go back the way we were called by the One that made us.

Politicians as a whole, are not good people. Abraham Lincoln was an accidental politician. The man had no idea the kind of influence he had on our nation. All he was really good at was making speeches. He was nominated for the presidency by greedy men who wanted to control our nation through him, because they new he was borderline insane with melancholy and would be easily manipulated. Thankfully, he held true to his belief that all people were created equal and in his eyes, that is why he declared civil war. His intentions were good, he wanted freedom for a race that was no different from him in his eyes and felt like the abuse the slaves suffered was an abomination. Lincoln was blind to the politicians running the show behind his back because he was to guilt ridden over the dying solder's and spent his time comforting widows and mother's who had lost their men in battle. The politicians working behind Lincoln's back were negotiated deals with industries in the north, slowly taking away the south's resources right under Lincoln's nose, and he never saw it coming. I believe that Honest Abe was the last president in history who actually lived for the good of the people he served. The rest that have followed, even Reagan and Bush, have fallen prey to the 3 political sins, that happen to be part of the 7 deadly sins created by the Catholic church a thousand or more years ago. These three sins would be: Greed, Gluttony, and Pride.
What happened to give me liberty or give me death? Liberty and liberal are both from the same latin root word "liber" which means "free". There will be no such thing as freedom as we have known it in the United States now that this election is over. Get ready for the CHANGE of tides and I think that it will be a rough ride. Just to let you all know that I am now, an official anarchist. 'Big Brother' if you are reading this, come get me, I'll be ready, because I am sure that gun laws will not apply anymore in this country. And why should they, killing people without just cause is a moral issue, that our new president is not against, because as far as I can tell, he stands for no morals that I know of, only "obamorals" that he has made up.

I am ending this post with our Lord's Prayer:

Our Father, who art in heaven,hallowed be thy name.

Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory. for ever and ever.

Amen

May God help us all.

Painting Indian Shirts and Bullys

I was blessed with the opportunity to volunteer in Tucker's class today and help them paint their Indian T-shirts for the Thanksgiving Feast they are having this month. I say blessed, because thanks to God, I am able to be at home with the kids now and can volunteer my time as a room mom for his class.

It was so nice to see all of those little faces, well I guess you can't call 5 and 6 year old little, but they were cute and sweet anyway. Tucker was especially proud to have me there. He kept telling all of his friends that his mommy is an artist. I still do not think that I have earned the right to call myself an artist, because I am simply not that good yet. However, if my little man thinks I am an artist, then I will proudly wear the title when he is around.

There were four of us who volunteered to paint the t-shirts. One of the other room moms, Monique, was there along with two mom's who I had not met until today. One of them is the mother of the class bully, and I was very interested in meeting her and speaking with the bully himself. Before you assume that my mouth got away from my temper, remember what happens when we assume. I was very cordial to the bully's mom, and she was very nice. I am sure that she is unaware that her kid terrorizes the class, because in my experience with daycare and kids in general, the main reason a kid acts like a bully is because their parents are not aware or choose to ignore most their child's actions. When I met the bully, I could see that he was a sweet child, but has obvious issues with controlling his actions. For instance, while we were sitting there painting shirts, we had to perform a tornado drill with the kids that lasted about 5 minutes. On the way back into the class, Minez, the bully evidently hit Joe, another little boy. Joe was crying and the teacher asked what happened. Another child, (thankfully not Tucker) piped up and told the teacher that Minez had hit Joe. Minez was reprimanded, and while the teacher was talking to him, Minez's mom kept on painting like it was not happening. The bully's face was blank as the teacher spoke to him, as if he didn't understand that hitting another kid was grounds for punishment. Which leads me to my next theory on bullys, and if this offends anyone reading my post, I apologize.
I believe that kids bully other kids to get attention, if they are intelligent enough to know that getting in trouble will give them attention. There are other kids who are simply not that intelligent. They do not understand how their actions affect others, and that there are consequences for those actions because their brain just doesn't function on the same level as other's when it comes to conscience and self control. If you look back at your child hood and think about a bully in your school, I would bet you $5.00 (because that is about the amount in my personal account right now) that the bully had at least two of the four characteristics I have listed:

1. Low Income family, usually a single parent house hold with multiple siblings.
2. Involved in a special education program at school for some type of learning disability.
3. Has more than three siblings at home and is from an upper class background.
4. Is a child of a divorced family.

I am pointing out these characteristics to say that a child does not come out of the womb malicious. There are contributing factors that surround the child on a daily basis that cause him/her to bully other children. It is not this little boy's fault that he is a bully, but being faultless does not make his actions inconsequential.

There are bullys that don't fit into this generalization, like the ones who have been given attention and are super intelligent who harbor some sort of sadistic quality that his hidden from view for most of their lives. These are the ones who turn out to be serial killers.
On the other side of the fence you have the bullied kids who do not stand up for themselves out of fear of further retaliation from the bully, or because their parents have told them to ignore the bully and they will leave them alone. These are the kids that end up keeping the hurt feelings brought on by years of torment, welled up inside of them until they suddenly explode, form a posse of other bullied friends and then devise a plan to shoot up a school or college.

I tell Tucker to stick up for himself with Minez and anyone else who picks on him for no reason. From what I can tell he has not had anymore problems with Minez or any other kids since we had that discussion. Brad and I argue on the Christian basis for self defense. I am of the mindset that Jesus did not mean for us to be doormats or punching bags. Brad is of the mindset that Jesus turned the other cheek. I know that Jesus turned the other cheek, but he was also God in human form. If Jesus had retaliated against someone who offended him, not only would his actions have defeated his purpose in showing the rest of us how to live in order to please our Father, as well as die for our salvation. He was perfect, we are imperfect, and therefore have to kick butt every now and again to keep the playing field of life even. My kids are going to stand up for themselves and I don't think that God looks down on me for it. As long as Tucker and Connor live by the Golden rule in treating others as they would want to be treated, violators of that rule are opening themselves up to a nice can of whoop @ss as far as their momma is concerned.

Halloween 2008

I had forgotten to post about our wonderful Halloween night! Tucker had a blast. He was Jango Fett, and Connor was the cutest Superman I have ever seen. I had intended on taking Connor with us in the stroller, however our neighbor/Tucker's friend Gunter, showed up in a super scary costume and my hopes of Connor having a fun night in the dark were diminished. See photo of scary costume above, and Connor's face. Tucker even ducked away from him. The kids is 8 by the way.... The sadder part was Tucker's best buddy in his older sister's tiger costume, complete with head band. What was his mom thinking???? The answer, she wasn't. Bless his heart. He is our neighbor, Jake, the one I wrote about in the first post on my blog. Jake and his sister are sweet kids, and he and Tucker are really good playmates. They have played together ever since we moved into our house when Tucker was two years old and Jake was three.

Anyway, Jake's parents let him trick or treat with Tucker and I while Brad stayed in the house with Connor giving out the treats. As I posted previously, our neighborhood puts on a good halloween show. It took us about two hours to get around to all of the houses. I had explained to Tucker and Jake when we set out for the evening that the universal symbol for "We have candy" was a lit porch light. My explanation proved me wrong a couple of times, but they loaded up on the sweets regardless of the people who chose not to give the neighborhood a sugar high.

There are two houses on the culdesac behing our house that go all out for halloween. Every year, they seem to get a little bit more insane with the decorations. The first year, they had the older son hidden in the bushes throwing pop rocks that would send the kids screaming back into the street. Tucker did not want to go near the house the next year due to the pop rocks and the mummy that suddenly grabbed his shoulder as he walked up the sidewalk to get his candy. This year, he and Jake could not wait to get to the haunted houses. It was an amazing set up. Both houses had music from Halloween and other horror movies playing, dry ice with blue lights behind them and a graveyard set up complete with a half buried skeleton. It was very cool, to me anyway. Tucker, once again, chose not to go near it. His imagination is a lot like mine was when I was little, in that he can't seem to separate fact from fiction, or reality from make believe. He saw the skeleton coming out of the ground as a real one, and was immediatly thinking about how it got there, and who it might have been. All scary things if you really think about it. His mind travels to deep places every now and then, and makes me want to keep him from thinking all together. Tucker is a lot like me, in some ways, his imagination, sensitive nature, and empathy. He is more like his father though in his quest for perfectionism, OCD behaviors, and the train of thought that everything in this world is either one way or another, and nothing in between could possibly exist. The last statement contrasts greatly with his imagination, but I believe that part of his little mind is separate from his nature, and will hopefully keep him from being a boring person later in life.

Like all neighborhoods, we had some big kids trick or treating, running through the streets in their scary costumes, wreaking havoc on front porches every where and making a lot of noise for attention as they go. Jake informed me that one of these "big kids" called him Chicken Little because of his glasses. This infuriated me, because having being picked on at one time in elementary school, I loath a bully. I told Jake that the next time this kid called him Chicken Little, to call him Pizza face. Jake thought that was hilarious but did not understand the meaning of the phrase, and I let him believe that it was just a funny thing to say. I knew very well that this comment would hit home to a 14 year old boy who was going through puberty, and desparately applying his Sea Breeze and zit cream on a nightly basis to cover up his pepporoni sized pimples. Sure enough, as we came to one of our last houses on our block, the big kids came around and one of them said, "Hey its Chicken Little." Jake turned around and said, "Shut up Pizza head! " The kid stopped in his tracks and looked at his buddy's and said, "Did you hear what he called me? " They all said yeah, and started calling him pizza head right back. Jake looked over at me in his tiger headband and grinned through painted on whiskers with a look of triumph. If anything, the little guy in his sister's hand me down costume had shown an older kid that he didn't appreciate having a nick name made for him, and that he was capable of coming up with a nick name too, even if it was a little altered from the original name itself.

Jake came back to our house to wait on his sister, parents and baby brother to finish trick or treating and had a hot dog with Tucker. They stuffed themselves with Oscar Meyer's and Hershey's, both of them exhausted and happy. It was one of my favorite Halloween's ever.

The trials and tribulations of Parenting

Brad and Tucker are in Mississippi for the State game, and I have had some time on my hands as you can see from my three posts today. Connor and I have spent the afternoon and the night together and it has been precious. He is so funny and unbelievably athletic. It is amazing to see his ability at such a young age. I know you are probably thinking, "Every mom thinks that their kid is the best at sports." You are right. But with Connor, I am not the only one who thinks that he has a lot of athleticism.

I am a guy's girl. I have always been more comfortable around guys than girls. I was a tomboy growing up, I like hard rock and violent movies, I drive fast (or I did before kids), and used to could drink any guy under a table (in the old days). As I have grown older and look at my closest friends, I realize that I surround myself with strong women. My girlfriends are all guys girls too. My friend Alex, who is a true southern bell, can have a conversation with any guy about sports and life in general without missing a beat. When I get together with my best friends from college, you would be astonished at the way we communicate, cursing, and sarcastic remarks fly around us like moths to a light bulb. We have always called each other by our last names. To this day, they still call me Tucker, which is confusing now that my son is named Tucker. So when God blessed me with my first son, Tucker, I was so thankful because God knew I couldn't handle a girl.

When we were waiting to find out what sex Connor was going to be, I was actually worried about having another boy because of competition between the two. Brad is a very good athlete. The football field at his high school still has his name on a sign, bearing a record that no one has beaten in eleven years. He played college basketball, and had opportunities to play college football. When I was pregnant with Tucker, Brad taught me how to throw a spiral football in our front yard. I can throw a good one now, and am proud of myself. From the day that Tucker was born, all he could talk about was how he wanted him to play football and basketball. Thankfully, Tucker plays both sports, including soccer and he is good at all three. Brad has always said that Tucker did not have a lot of athletic ability, but that with practice he would be good. I always disagreed with him because I thought there was no way to tell if a three year old was athletic or not. I accused him of being too hard toward Tucker's abilities. He never let Tucker know that he felt that way of course.
Tucker inherited Brad's speed, and my endurance. He can run for miles at a pretty fast pace, and not get tired. When Tucker was 4, he went on a two mile run with me and never asked to rest. The kid is an amazing runner, if he could run all day long, he would be happy. This year, Brad finally admitted that Tucker does have athletic ability, it has just taken a little bit more time to show itself. In flag football Tucker can catch up to a kid that might be 30 yards in front of him in seconds to grab the kid's flag. When he catches the football, he can find holes in the defense and juke the players around him to make touchdowns that other kids couldn't make. In soccer he is the fastest kid on the field. A boy from the opposing team could be dribbling the ball down the field and Tucker would be in the back field behind the other players. All of the sudden, it was like he lit a booster under his bottom, and took off. He will almost always catch the other player and get the ball away or keep him from scoring a goal. The hard part is that Tucker has always been more interested in role playing and just playing in general than practicing sports, or throwing a ball around. His teachers always talk about his imagination and his vocabulary. He is also proving to be very good at math and patterns, which is wonderful news. However, the lack of interest in practicing sports has been a frustration for Brad.

Connor picked up a ball and threw it when he was 4 months old and hasn't put it down since. Tonight, I spent at least an hour, throwing his little football back and forth with him. We throw the ball together on a daily basis for hours on end. Connor will pick up a round ball, and stand like he is on a pitcher's mound at a baseball game. Then he will turn to the side, just like a pitcher does, wind the ball backward and throw it overhanded, hard. He broke my little toe with a sippy cup because he threw it on my foot. No joke. We have no idea where he saw a pitcher wind a ball, but he must have been watching a baseball game to get the idea. When he pitches the ball, it goes right to you, with a spin. This is no ordinary 17 month old throwing a ball haphazardly around the room.

When Connor throws the football, he actually takes a stance, like you see Peyton or Brett do before they throw the ball. Then, he takes the ball and turns it in his hands, making sure to line up the white marks on the ball. leans back and throws a spiral across the room. It is amazing. Brad taped the Connor throwing the baseball one night, and we have got to get the football toss on camera too. Tonight, as I watched him throw the football to me with perfect accuracy I was amazed and scared at the same time. Connor is going to be a phenomenal quarterback or pitcher one day, and I don't think I am being biased. My fear is that if Tucker is not as good as his younger brother it will devastate him. This is the competition factor that I worried about when you have two boys. I look at the Manning family and wonder what the older brother must feel like. He was good, but not as good as his younger brothers. Now they are both gazillionaires and he sits in the box with his parents watching them, he is so obscure that I don't even know his name. All that to say, I will take the competition of two brothers over an emotional 13 year old wreck of a girl anyday.

I just hope that Tucker will have enough confidence in his abilities not to compare himself to Connor. I know that Tucker is smart, and hopefully his brain will take him further than Connor's athletics. I feel torn between the two of them already, and neither of them are aware of the rivalry to come. On one hand I want to be so proud of Connor, because he has a gift. On the other hand, I want to protect Tucker from seeing how good Connor actually is. I try not to recognize the fact that Connor is so good. I know this is premature, but I can see it happening in the future and am trying my hardest to prepare myself for the battles to come. Being a parent is the hardest, most challenging thing in the world, however it is the best blessing you can ever receive from God. Hopefully, with God's help, I will cross this bridge easily when the time comes. For now, I am thankful that I have two beautiful, healthy, sweet, boys. Sorry for the long post, that you probably could care less about. It made me feel better to write it and clear my head. Now, I am off to have a few sips of my red wine and read more about 14th century England.

New Pink Album

I got the new P!nk album when it came out on Tuesday. I am a huge fan of hers, even though I didn't like her first album. This new album is different than her previous one, in that most of the songs are lower tempo. Just about all of the songs deal with her divorce, which has apparently hit her hard. If you have ever had a broken heart, you will completely identify with these songs. I love it when artist can use thier talent to express their feelings, even if it means being public about it. If you like P!nk, you should get this album because even if it is a little less upbeat, it still rocks. If you have never listened to P!nk before, you might like this album more than the previous ones because it is more subdued. I like her because she is a tough, independant woman, who doesn't take anything from anyone. However, this new album shows that there is a softer side of her just like all of the rest of us females.
I can't wait to work out to this album tomorrow!

The Discovery of Red Wine

If you ask a friend of mine if they thought I was a drinker, they would probably tell you no. I will have a nice cold, imported beer on special occasions with friends, and that is about it. When I was working full time, I kept New Castle Brown Ale in my refridgerator and would drink one every now and then to ease my nerves as I made dinner. If anything, I am a lover of good imported brew, and drink it for the taste, not the affect. This week, I discovered red wine.

Red wine is the classy drink that all of our friend's wives drink at parties, while I am one of the only ones drinking my Bass Ale or New Castle. I had tried red wine in college, and all I got from the glasses that I drank was a really bad headache and purple teeth. I did not enjoy the wine, because it was warm and reminded me of drinking blood. (too many Lestat books I am sure) When I was a youngster, my aunt Joann, who lived in Miami, would slip me red wine, and other drinks under the table at dinner. I loved red wine then, along with Khalua, and some other dark brown liquior that only grown ups should have been drinking.

Why my Aunt Joann slipped me wine under the table is not a mystery, she gave it too me because I asked for it. My aunt spoiled me rotten. She had no children, was the CEO of an advertising company that had major clients all over Florida, and therefore had money to burn and thankfully me to burn it with. Anything I asked for at Aunt Joann's house, I got. So, if the adults were drinking red wine at a swanky restaurant in Miami, I was given some too, without my parents knowledge.
This part of my post needs a little bit more explanation. I grew up an only child, and my parents did not cater to my wishes, I was more of a tagalong of theirs. Part of their luggage, that just happened to talk a lot and look cute in dresses. My dad worked for an airline for 25 years and we could fly anywhere for free. I had an aunt and uncle in Miami, and an aunt and uncle in Detriot. My summers, and school vacations were spent flying between these two cities. I can tell you to this day that it takes approximately 30 min. to fly from Alabama to Memphis, and an 1 hour to fly from Memphis to Miami. It takes 30 minutes longer to fly from Memphis to Detriot. Traveling with my parents was always an adventure. I was able to see Niagra Falls, as well as a nude beach we accidently stumbled upon in Canada. I walked in snow that came up to my waist in Michigan and had lunch on the beach of Lake Ontario. In Miami we dined in the finest restaurants and once I rode the elevator with some famous mobsters. I kept looking at these men in their linen suits, while we were eating dinner, and happened to get on the elevator with them when we were leaving. My dad told me later that the men were rumored to be part of a well known crime family who had connections in Miami and New York.
I knew Hollywood beach in Ft. Lauderdale like the back of my hand and was a frequent visitor to a beach side bar with my parents and aunt and uncle. I can tell you how to get into Star Island without a card, and give you a tour of Viscauya, one of the most beautiful homes on Biscaine Bay. I have never been to our country's capital, or seen the grand canyon, but take me to Miami or Detriot and I will find a good place for dinner and can drive without a GPS.
So back to red wine. I used to like the red wine that aunt Joann gave me when I was little, because it was cold. Not frosty cold, but cool. I couldn't understand why all of the wine I was offered as an adult was so warm. One day, as I sat getting a manicure a guy came and sat at the table next to me. His family owned a vineyard in the south, and we started talking about wine. I mentioned the fact that I liked red wine at one time, but I preferred it to be cold. He understood immediately and said that red wine is supposed to be served at a lower temperature, and is best when it is cool. He said that most people did not know this about red wine.
I found a bottle of red wine a friend of ours had given us in our cabinet the other night. I have been reading a lot about 14th century England and they drank wine and ale all of the time back then, so when I saw the wine I thought, "I will try this stuff again and see what I think." After putting it in the fridge to chill, I had a small glass. It was wonderful! Not only did it taste just like it did when I was 8 years old, but it helped me sleep that night. So, I will partake of the red wine for it's health benefits from now on, in small doses, at night, but not every night.

Fantasy Falls trip in Gadsden

The boys and thier wonderful Nana!!

Jamming on the train to the music!

Brad went to the Mississippi State game on Saturday with one of his friends. That left me and the boys with a free day all to ourselves! Saturday evening, I took Tucker and Connor to my mom's house in Gadsden. We went to Fantasy Falls at Noccolula Falls. We had a great time!! My mom was in a wonderful mood and was in full Nana mode with the boys. There was not much to Fantasy Falls itself, but we had fun anyway. They had a train ride, inflatables that Tucker loved, and little games for them to play. There was a pumpkin carving table and some other little booths. Tucker was very excited about riding the train, so we had to do that first. The train started through the park, we had not gone far when it stopped inside a wooden tunnel, and the lights went out . I thought, "Oh no, Connor is going to start screaming now." I thought of the train at the zoo with the scary things that came at you and hung down from the ceiling. However, instead of a bogey man popping out at us, there were synchronized lights, like you would have on a Christmas tree, that were programmed to light up with the beat of music. The first song was the theme song from the Adam's Family. Mom and I both started laughing at that, because as a child, that was one of my favorite shows to watch in the afternoon after school. We didn't have Noggin back then. The second song was the theme to Ghost Buster's and Tucker and Connor both started rocking out to that one. Connor was in mom's lap and Tucker was beside her. Both of them were dancing in the seats! Mom got a kick out of it all. I kept looking behind the train, since we were in the last car, to make sure that Freddy Kruger was not coming after us. Thankfully, good ole Gadsden did not disappoint me by scaring my kids into never wanting to ride a train again. The songs kept coming, the lights kept blinking, and the boys kept smiling. After the tunnel, the train went on through the park itself. As a kid growing up in Gadsden, the Falls were one of my favorite places to go. My Granny lived close to them, in fact, you could actually hike up the bed of Black Creek to get to the falls, from her house. I have a lot of fond memories there of my Granny and my mom. I love the old log cabins that they have from back in the time of the first settlers. I used to like to walk into the church/school building and sit on a bench imagining what it must have been like back then. Of course, I pictured Little House on the Prairie, which was one of my favorite book series as a girl as well.
Riding on the train, in the dark with my boys and my mom while we looked upon familiar sights of my childhood made me feel a kind of sentimental happiness I can't really describe. I can't believe that I have never taken my children or Brad to Noccolula Falls before Saturday night, and have made a promise to myself that we will go again in the daytime this fall so that they can see all the park has to offer. I know now, that I took a lot of things from my home town for granted. Living in a bigger city, with less time to make the kind of memories that I was able to make in my childhood has made me appreciate the small town that I grew up in. I am jealous of all of my friends that are able to live and work in Gadsden. Their children get to go to schools that don't have 2000 kids in them, and they recognize most of the people they see at the grocery store. You don't get those experiences in a bigger city. Somehow the simple things in life turn hectic and unachievable, so you just skip them and move on to something bigger and better.
Maybe one day we can move our family back to Gadsden, but for now we are here and I am happy for the most part. I love our neighborhood, my friends, our home, and Tucker's school (even if it is big). God has blessed us with so much, and we can't even begin to understand why. We know that we don't deserve a bit of what he has given us. I only hope that in some way, I make him smile every day, because all of my smiles are because of Him.

Daddy Daycare

I had to work today and Brad took another vacation day to stay with Connor. Thankfully my dad and stepmom will be home on Sunday. Connor is going to be so happy to see his Mimi when she gets home! And Papa too of course! I have read various emails in which daddy's have been made out to be terrible babysitters. These emails were usually accompanied by pictures of children with food all over them, in toilets, eating out of dog bowls, etc. Thankfully our children are in better hands with their father. But not that much better. I drove into the garage tonight and climbed the stairs leading into our den and was met by a MSU football player screaming, "Mommy!!!" at the top of his lungs. I was face to face with a mean looking helmet complete with chin guard and a missing tooth lunging over the baby gate to give me a bear hug. This MSU player was no other than Tucker, my six year old. I looked over his shoulder as I was maneuvering my way over the baby gate to see my 17 month old, tee toddling over to me, blond curly hair bobbing, smiling, with a toothbrush in his mouth. Brad was lounging comfortably in our big comfy chair waving hello in an exhausted manner. Once I got a nice slobbery toothbrush kiss from Connor I asked my husband, "Where did he get the toothbrush?" His reply, "I don't know."
"Well, did he go upstairs?" I asked.
"I don't know." Brad said, thinking about it for a minute then said, "Maybe he did." Immediately a picture flashed through my mind of my precocious 17 month old prowling through the vanity cabinets in the boys bathroom which do not have safety locks on them because I don't keep anything dangerous in them. Or so I thought. The second string of questions directed at my husband came out in rapid fire, "Is this a new toothbrush? Did he get it out of a package? Or was it Tucker's? Is it wet?" All of my questions were met with, "I'm hungry, what are we going to eat?"
With that, ladies and gentlemen, I walked upstairs to my bedroom with a football player and toothbrush toting toddler at my heals to change clothes. One thing about being the only female in the house is that no one understands the relevance of privacy. Every time I go upstairs to change my clothes, take a shower, or use the bathroom, I have a shadow. I don't know what else to do at this point other than put a dead bolt on the doors. Brad is not any better than the kids. He grew up with a brother so I am sure that they never gave thought to walking in on each other in the bathroom. I am constantly telling Tucker, "Don't walk in a door that is closed with out knocking first." Does he understand what I am telling him? No. Sometimes I wonder if the three males in my house comprehend anything I say . Maybe it sounds like Latin to them? Connor gets a break at this age because I am still not sure about what he understands and what he doesn't. The other two should know better by now.

By the time I had changed clothes, Connor had found another toothbrush, this one I knew to be unused. I had to pry both of the toothbrushes out of his hands while he was screaming at me. Then he went into a full blown tantrum. I had him calmed down with an Elmo video and a hot dog while the rest of us could eat dinner. Then the time came to take a bath. Connor likes his bath, the problem is that he likes it too much. We had fun for about ten minutes, and then it was time to get him bathed and out before he turned into a raisin. Brad came upstairs to help me because getting our toddler out of the bathtub is a two person job. I hit the stopper to let the water drain out and Connor goes prostrate into the water in order to keep us from picking him up. Thankfully he kept his little head up or he would have drank most of the water in the bathtub. I struggled to get a good hold on his slippery little arms without gripping hard enough to hurt him or leave a bruise. Every time I started to lift the little stinker would sink himself back down onto the bottom of the tub. Brad's job was to hold the towel and have it ready when I finally wrenched the child from the tub. I believe we have the entire operation wrong, he should be the one getting Connor out, and I should be the towel holder. Well, we all know about hindsight. I finally managed to get one hand around his left armpit and the other hand on the underside of his right thigh and lifted him triumphantly out of the tub and handed him over to Brad. Our taking him out of the bathtub must have just been about all that his little mind could take because the tantrum that followed lasted at least 10 minutes. Have you ever tried to put a diaper and pajamas on a wild animal? I have, but instead of an animal, it is my son. I have developed many tactics to get his diapers on, only to have them work once and then the little guy will anticipate my movements the next time around and I have to go back to the drawing board. By the time I had his diaper on and half of his pjs buttoned I was sweating and he was hysterical. All I could do at this point was sit back and let him have it out. Finally I said, "Connor, you want to come to mommy?" he shook his head no. "Connor, are you going to cry all night." Yes. "Okay, well mommy is going bye bye." I got up and walked out of his room and low and behold there he comes after me, arms outstretched, red puffy eyes, and exhausted.
Now, both kids are in bed. Tucker is happy because he was able to watch Star Wars the Clone Wars on Cartoon Network with his dad. Connor is happy because he was able to sit in my lap and watch Barney with a warm bottle. I am happy because I can finally go to bed, after a long day.

Getting ready for Halloween!

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays of the year. My childhood memories are filled with exciting Halloween nights thanks to my mother. My mom is a fan of the macabre and anything that makes your flesh crawl with terror. She let me watch Cujo and Carrie as a nine year old.There is no doubt that letting me watch these horror movies were detrimental to my young mind, but she did not think about those things. I can remember laying on our couch in the den, watching Silver Bullet for the first time, and hiding under the pillows when the werewolf was chasing Corey Haim down the bridge in his wheelchair. That was a great horror movie. As a pre-teen and teenager, I loved to watch horror movies and read horror genre books. Mom was a big fan of Stephen King, but I did not enjoy his writing style and stuck to Anne Rice and other authors who intrigued me with their eloquent phrases and unbelievable descriptions of detail. In high school, my boyfriend's mom took me to meet Anne Rice at at book signing. She came out in a casket, dressed in a black wedding gown. There I was, a little blond cheerleader, looking everything like a blond bimbo with my long hair and cute clothes, surrounded by all of these people dressed in gothic clothes. There is no doubt in my mind that I stood out in that crowd. When I approached the table for Mrs. Rice to sign my book, I told her, "Your eye for detail is amazing." This pleased her and she told me that she would love to put that on a t-shirt. As I grew older, and matured, my reading interests began to shift to less gory books, to more historical. However, I believe that part of the reason I loved to read Anne Rice's books was not because of the vampire or witch themes that the books were based upon. What actually drew me to her writing were the periods in which her characters lived. For instance, most of 'Interview with a Vampire' takes place in 18th century France. Little did I know that when I was reading these books in 11th grade, I was setting myself up for a life time of reading and research into European history and culture. I enjoy reading about western history much more than I enjoy American history. This is probably due to the fact that our history is much younger than Europe's. The fact that most of US citizens are not native to our country is also part of my fascination with Europe. Unless you are of Native American descent, you were probably descended from a family across the Atlantic who risked their lives to come to our country in order to be free from the monarchy that ruled Europe.

Back to Halloween. Mom always made Halloween fun. I would be thinking about my costume for months before, and we always found exactly what I wanted to be. Our neighborhood was full of kids, and the residents went all out for Halloween. One house in particular had a whole set up in thier front yard with a casket that opened, and blue lights along with dry ice that would float about in the air when the casket opened. Mom would invite her friends from across town who had children my age to come and trick or treat with us. Then we would pair up with other families in the neighborhood and trick or treat for hours! It was magical. I will be grateful to my mother for my Halloween memories forever. I did not ever question whether or not Halloween represented something evil or that as a Christian I should not be participating in it. If you research the orgins of Halloween, you will find out that the holiday originated by the Celts and was then used by the Catholic church as one of the biggest worship services of the year. All Hallows Eve, what we now call Halloween, took place at the end of the summer harvest, on Oct. 31. It was thought by all of the people in the 13-16 centuries in Europe that on the night of All Hallows Eve, the spirits of the dead rose from thier graves and walked amongst the towns to destroy their crops and kill their children, livestock, and spread diseases. In order to protect themselves, the people who lived in smaller villages in the countryside of England and Ireland would take a pilgrimage to the closest Priory, or Cathedral town in order to have a safe refuge from the evil spirits that would roam the country. The monks and nuns would provide thousands of people shelter on this night with food, drink, warm fires, and other comforts that most of the pilgrims were not privileged enough to have in their own homes. No one would venture out of the sacred ground of the monastery for fear of the spirits. The Catholic church used this time as a way of showing Christ's generosity and compassion for the poor and unbelievers. It was a wonderful outreach opportunity and back in those days, most people believed in God, out of fear more than anything else. The day after All Hallows Eve was known as All Saints Day. The pilgrims would rise from their beds made on the floor of the monasteries and walk to the cathedral for worship and to recount their sins to the priest. After the service and repentance period was over, the pilgrims would then partake in the priory or town's festival, where they would trade livestock, wool, vegetables, etc for necessities.

For this reason, as a Christian, I do not believe that it is right to label Halloween as evil. In this century, it is looked upon as a time where children can dress up as their heroes. Little girls can be Cinderella, Snow White, Ariel or another princess for a night. Little boys can be Superman, Batman, or Handy Manny for a night. In our case, Speedster has opted for a Jango Fett costume that I found at Target. His daddy was a little annoyed at the price tag (39.99) but Speedster will probably wear the Jango costume every night for the next year. Therefore I have no qualms about getting my money's worth out of this costume. He has already worn it every night since we bought it on Saturday. I have to pry him out of it to get a bath or eat dinner. He loves to pretend play, which I think he gets from his momma. WildMan is going to be Superman. His sweet aunt Joann sent him a Superman Pj set with a cape on the back and I think that it will be perfect for his Halloween costume. Last year he was Tigger, and didn't appreciate the tail or the hood very much.

I guess what I am saying in this post is that I plan to enjoy Halloween, and not let anyone else's opinions on the holiday affect my own. Our church is having a festival this weekend, and the kids are allowed to wear non scary costumes, which I think is great.

Evil is present in this world everyday, not just Halloween. The fact that we only recognize it's presence on one night a year is scary in itself. If you have a chance, read C.S. Lewis' book The Screwtape Letters. It is a chilling read that will make you look at every word and action you utter or make during the day and question why you said what you said or reacted the way you did. God promises to protect us, but we have to deal with evil in this world, because we as creation are full of sin and the devil feeds himself on those sins. However, if you are a true believer you know that no matter what happens to you in this world, you will be cradled in the hands of Christ for eternity. This belief does not cause you to never worry, and to be mindful of dangerous decisions that will affect you and your family. Unfortunately we do not know God's plan for us and even though I pray for my children's safety every day, I still worry over them as most mothers are inclined to do. I try to be vigilant in remembering God's words, to help me get through scary circumstances in life. I am no martyr. I can't say that I am not scared of the future, I just do my best to enjoy the present. I will end with Psalm 23:4 "I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me."

The sun is shing. The air is fresh and cool. Fall has arrived!

Connor and I had a fun morning. Tucker's school had a book fair this morning, and since I am so blessed now to be able to stay at home, I was able to attend the book fair with him. Last year, I was unable to go because I had a meeting at work. I did not think twice about not going because the school had sent a note home to the parents letting us know that if we could not come to the book fair, not to worry because they would have volunteers there helping the kids choose age appropriate books. I sent Speedster 20.00 to spend because I absolutely LOVE book fairs, and think that they are the cheapest way to buy books and a great fundraiser for public schools. I could not wait to get home that night and find out what he had bought with his money. Twenty dollars can go a long way at a book fair! Imagine my dismay to find out that he had spent my hard earned dough on pencils, erasers, a book about dragons that was written on a 3rd grade reading level, and two other high level reading books. Dismay is an understatement, I was furious. Who in their right mind sends a 5 year old home with an Eragon paperback book????? Obviously the 'volunteers' the school had written about never helped Tucker pick out the books, or if they did they must have thought he was a very bright 5 year old. Thankfully the school was closed or I would have picked up the phone right then and let someone have it. Lucky for them, I had calmed down a little bit the next morning when I took Tucker to school, along with his sack of books and went directly to the book fair where I returned all of them. I was late for work that morning, but I picked out the best books that book fair had to offer and we still read them today so it was well worth it.

Therefore, I learned my lesson last year, and was not going to repeat the same mistake. I took
Connor to the a gym we are members of here in town. They offer a merciful service called drop and go. You pay them $10 and can leave your child there for an hour or two. For a stay at home mom, this is a Godsend. Anyone who has ever take a cranky, sleepy, hungry toddler to Walmart will understand. A stay at home mom's idea of heaven is going to Walmart, the grocery store, or Target alone without having to constantly say: "Stay in the buggy. Don't lean over the buggy. No you can't have that. Stop poking holes in the bread. Take your hand out of the freezer door. You ate what?" Not only do you have only yourself to take care of in the store, but you might actually make it out of the store with everything on your list. I can't tell you how many times I have walked out of Walmart only to realize after I have buckled both kids in the car that I forgot the main item I went into the store for to begin with. Instead of what is on my list I have tons of junk food, odd toys that were meant to keep the little one quiet, and things that were thrown in my buggy without my knowledge. So, after I took Connor to the drop and go care, I went to the book fair with Tucker. We spent a lot of time in there, because like his mama, he LOVES books. He kept saying, "Mommy, there is so much to investigate in here, we have to keep looking." Tucker's vocabulary amazes us. He comes up with the funniest sayings and uses huge words correctly. His teacher last year commented on his word play often, telling us that she looked forward to teaching him every day because she couldn't wait to hear what he would say. Last night, we were talking about what was in his lunch, and what he didn't eat. He told his dad and I that he didn't eat the goldfish but he ate the sandwich and the brownie. Brad kept asking him why he didn't eat his goldfish and Tucker said, "Fishes like to be free" To that Brad replied, you can make them free by taking them out of the bag and eating them. Tucker then replied, "My tummy is not an ocean daddy."
So now Connor is sleeping, Tuckerr is at school and mommy needs to stop blogging and get to work on her to do list given to her by Brad. He loves to give me a list of things that he needs me to do during the day. I don't know why, but this drives me bonkers. I just want to do what I know needs to be done. For some reason, when he tells me to do things, I don't want to do them even though they would be easy to do. For instance, I was supposed to call about some reward points on a credit card we had last week. I put it off until he got mad at me. I think that is my way of rebelling because I don't like to be told what to do. That little personality trait got me into trouble in school, at home, and at work if I had a micro manager. I hate micro managers. I am the type of person who will get things done, but in my own time. Granted, I am good at meeting deadlines. I never missed a single one in my seven year career. If my manager was bugging me about a project I would put it off until the last minute. I would finish the project half assed but correct. If my manager left me alone, I would not procrastinate, and turn out a beautiful spreadsheet or presentation with ease. Strange I know, but that is how I roll. My husband just needs to figure that out.

Today and tomorrow

Today was a nice day for Brad. He was able to take a much needed "vacation day" and stay with Connor while I went to work. We are so fortunate in that we have my stepmom who keeps Connor for us on the two days a week when I work. She loves the little guy so much, and he has a wonderful time with her. She and my dad have traveled to Indiana for a week and will not be back until the following Sunday. My mom enjoys keeping him as well, but unfortunately her health keeps her from keeping Connor as much as she wants to.
I am hoping that Brad got a taste of what it is like being home with a little one all day long. He needs to realize that I do not spend all day sitting on my arse watching Oprah and eating Oreos.
When Tucker got home today, they played/practice football in our living room. My sweet husband had all of these obstacles in the floor so that Tucker could practice his "moves" running with the ball. Evidently they had a few wrestling matches as well, but Connor did not enjoy them as much as the older boys did. Boys meaning my 6 and 32 year old husband. I am glad that they all had time together today without me. I truly believe in "guy time" as well as "my time". Boys need to be with thier dad and I need to be by myself every now and again. Technically, I wasn't by myself today, I was at work. However, I was having big people conversations and did not have to plan my day around nap time. Don't get me wrong, I love being a stay at home mom, it is my life long dream fullfilled. I am glad that I still work two days a week though. It is good for my sanity.
Tomorrow will be the last of Tucker's flag football games and the coaches are supposed to play after the kids play. Unfortunately, I will be at work in the morning, part of the whole part time set up I have with the bank. It is worth it to work on Saturday mornings most of the time, except when I miss out on this type of thing. The bright side is that I am home more than I am gone now, and what ever sacrifice I have to make is worth it for myself, and my family.

To begin, is to end, eventually.

Welcome to the Boz report! You are currently reading the first publication of the Boz report, a complete play by play of the activities surrounding the our family. If you are wondering why this blog is named Boz, I can explain. If you were not wondering, you can read it if you like and if not, well you can skip down a few lines. Explaination: My husband of 8 years, B., was/is called Boz by all of his highschool/college friends. This nick name has even carried over to his younger brother who probably does not appreciate the fact that he is often referred to as "Little Boz" by most of his town in Mississippi. However, as one knows who has had a nickname in the past, you can't do anything about what people call you, only with how you react to what they call you. My philosophy has always been, so what, but that's just me.

Another reason that I am posting this blog is to use it as a free advertisement for my small business called: Hand Painted for You! I started this business when B. and I decided that my working a full time, high level, high stress job with a Bank as a Compliance Analyst was just not worth the time away from our family.
I made a good salary, however we were unable to enjoy the fruit of my labor because 3/4 of it went to daycare. Also when I was at home, I was ill as a hornet and wanted to spend the other 1/4 of my income as retail therapy. Thus, a part time job as a teller with the Bank was my only option in order to keep the great healthcare benefits that the bank has for its employees, and to keep me with the company long enough to become vested in my 401K. Which by now is probably liquidated by the government in the bail out process to fund rich CEO's retirment accounts.

Anywho, when I took the part time job, it offered me the great hours of only working a full day on Monday and Friday, and three hours on Saturday at a decent hourly rate. (which is actually only 1/2 of what my hourly rate was before.) The trade off is that I get to spend three full days with our youngest son, nick named Wild Man, who is 17 months and at full throttle 8 hours a day. And, I am also able to meet our oldest son nick named the Speedster, who is in kindergarten, when he gets off the bus in the afternoons. The term 'meet' is used loosely here due to the fact that I merely sit on the swing which is located on our back deck and listen for his school bus to pull into the culdesac that is directly behind our back yard. In order for the Speedster to get to our house from this bus stop, he must first gather his best buddy, and neighbor from the gaggle of kids that are putting off going inside their houses to do their homework, then he and his buddy,Jake, must trapse through the woods for about 100 yards. Then after emerging from the woods in my line of vision, I witness from afar his descent into the often jungle like backyard of Jake's house. As the boys make their way through the undergrowth of grass that has not been cut in months, they must also climb over a tree that fell three months ago, and run out of range of the jaws belonging to Jake's unloved, unattended german shephard Chester who is tied for eternity to a run line that spans the width of the backyard. Now, most of you reading this will think that I am a horrible mother, making my child go through such an abyssimal trip to get home in the afternoons. If you have ever placed yourself inside the brain of a 6 year old boy, (which I don't recommend doing often) you will realize that his walk home is a great adventure that he gets to share with his best friend and confidant three days a week. And believe me, after being in the after school program five days a week at his elementary school last year when I was working full time, climbing felled trees, wading through high grass, and dodging a manic german shephard is a cake walk compared to the undisciplined, crazy kids he had to deal with at EDP (extended day program) Program my tush. The advertisement for EDP should have been: "You pay us 200 bucks a month, and we will let your kid run wild all over the school and playground while supervised by high school kids who are really just there to flirt with each other. We will make sure your child comes home every day with a new bruise or cut on at least one of his limbs, if your lucky all four will have a battle scar of some sort. When you ask us how the cut, scrape or bruise got on your child, we will certainly not have a clue, but we can tell you who went out with Brandon last night."