China

I am so proud of my cousin and his wife. Thomas and Callie Mitchell are teaching English in Hangzhou, China. I miss them both, but in a recent conversation with Thomas he expressed how much they love it over there. I was intrigued with all he had to say about the culture and the people they are building relationships with.

Check out their blog http://mitchellstochina.blogspot.com/

Love to you both!

Rose

My grandmother, Rose Carpenter, hasn't been herself since my grandfather died. It actually started before that, but since my grandfather was so sick, we didn't much notice. She lives in a newly built "mother-in-law" wing with her youngest daughter. There are days that are good but mostly my grandmother is someone I don't know. Alzheimer's is a terrible disease. It makes me sad to think how my beloved grandmother, my Mamaw, has been robbed of truly experiencing my children. She was always a great listener, never seemed to judge, knew what I was thinking before I said it, and gave great advice.


My mother wrote a paper as part of a school assignment in September of 1992. I think that the assignment was to write about someone you admired. I have read this paper for years, as Mamaw kept notes, cards and pictures tacked up around the house. She had this paper laminated.


Rose, my mother-in-law, packs in an incredible amount of love in one day. She has the endurance of a twenty-year-old; yet, she is three times that age. Up by daylight, she takes a moment to write an encouraging letter to someone who is ill or has lost a loved one. Afterwards, she may go visit someone in the hospital or take someone a delicious meal she has prepared. She always enjoys going out to eat lunch with a group of her friends, and they discuss the hardships of the people that go to the church she attends. By mid-afternoon she has finished her daily tasks of cleaning her humble home and has worked eagerly in her flower garden to make it beautiful for all eyes to see. She delights in feeding her fowl, feathered friends and giving them fresh water to drink and bathe in. In the late afternoon, she has a scrumptious meal waiting for her hungry, hard working husband. Everything is homemade or home grown from the bountiful garden she harvests every year. She works hard in her garden from early spring to late fall. She has an ample supply of canned and frozen good for her family, which consists of about thirty people. In the evening, it seems as though her mind is passionately searching out things to do for those around her. Sewing is a pure delight for her; especially, when she is making a new, frilly dress for one of her seven granddaughters. She sometimes sews diligently into the night because she can hardly wait to see the big smiles on her granddaughters’ faces and to see them proudly wear them to church on Sunday morning. She always spends a few minutes each night reading her Bible and soaking in the message she receives. After a very gratifying day, she lays her tired, aching body down, and she contemplates what love she can give tomorrow.



My Aunt Susan, Aunt Nancy and Mamaw


I am truly indebted to my Aunt Susan, Aunt Nancy, Uncle Ray and my Father and their spouses for taking care of my grandparents. I can only hope that I can serve my parents in such a dedicated way when the time comes. My true comfort is that one day in Heaven, my grandmother and I can talk again as we used to. We will hold hands and tell each other all of our secrets the way we did when I thought things would never change.


I love you Mamaw, thank you for everything you've taught me. I hope I can make you proud.

Uncle Matt

Three weeks ago I went to Auburn, AL to spend the week at my sister's house. VBS time had come in full force, and I, being the wonderful mother that I am, was not about to let my girls miss it. We drove 5 1/2 hours nonstop. This was the weekend after the big storm. I had no power at the house and had been awake since 5 am as to have a garage sale. Needless to say, I was slapping myself and singing children's songs at the top of my lungs to make it to Lydia's without passing out from exhaustion. We arrived Saturday evening and that next week was one of the best of my life.

Lydia married a man that none of us really understood. We couldn't tell if he understood us either. I have a large extended family. We are notorious for being without filter between our mind and mouth. We are loud and bossy and emotionally involved in each other's lives. I'm surprised he didn't bow out gracefully after his first "Carpenter" encounter. And since he took my sister 6 hours away from us to Kingston, TN to be a youth minister and her a teacher, I have run the gamut in my feelings and thoughts towards him. Now I can safely say that he is one of my closest friends.

Matt is an amazing person, he has his faults, we all do. He's a tightwad (which is why he has more money than I do) and this isn't necessarily a bad thing except that it has rubbed off on my sister and she never seems to just buy anything on a whim. I can't ever tell when he's angry with me. I don't know how often he has been, but my sister had to tell me of such occasions since I never noticed a change in his behavior towards me.

But though he may have faults (I'm sure Lydia could think of a few more, as most wives often can,) he is a blessing to me.

The week of VBS was wonderful. Lydia had to work and so after she left, Matt stuck around to play with the girls while I got ready. At their congregation, any children under 1st grade must have a parent volunteering to help with VBS. So though I did get rid of my 2 girls for 2 1/2 hours everyday, I did have 9 4 year olds to keep a watch on. And after VBS, each day Matt sat in the back of the auditorium with the girls so that I could collect their things and also collect myself. He came home early to play everyday. We went to parks, the lake, shopping, church, out to eat and for walks.

My sister is well known for wimping out when it comes to stamina with my children. I often dread visits to her house because while it starts out nice, she is tired of us after a few days. I don't blame her, I wake up everyday talking myself into my job. But even she was more tolerable of the 2 manics that had invaded their home.

Uncle Matt never tired of his adoring fans. The girls love him. The ask about him everyday, want to call him, look at pictures of him, and watch video of times when he is around. Likewise his love for them is never ceasing. I could tell he was tired at the end of the day. Yet never did he refuse to read to them, or get them more juice, or dry them off from their bath. He helped them with every meal and never once complained about all the attention he was receiving. My girls are so happy when he is around. I trust him completely with them. I have never heard him raise his voice or become impatient with them. I am so proud that Matt is their uncle.

I am so blessed that he is not only my brother-in-law, but also my friend. It has been an unlikely match, this friendship. But I know that he will always ask the right question, or listen attentively, or call just to say hello. I know he prays for me and my family. I know that God had a definite plan when he put Lydia and Matt together. Not just for their lives as a couple, but for me and my girls.

Life is just more fun with you in it, Uncle Matt. We love you.

Running

So don't read this title and think "What?!? Brandy has started running?" Absolutely not. My knees wouldn't take it. But I have learned that the figurative phrase "running around" is actually more than some make it out to be.

Sometimes I like to think that I'm super-mom. The one who can do anything, fix anything, cook anything, and make everything special. Alas, I am not super-mom. Yes I have had my glory moments, I have also spent a good bit of time crying and begging God to make it easier. I've said before that I feel like being a mom is a huge sacrifice. I honestly believe that, but I also am blessed by my life. It isn't always easy, well, mostly never easy.

Y'all know how it is. Just the other day I took a girlfriend (newlywed and childless) of mine to the zoo with my two hell raisers. Our estimated time of departure was 10:30, I made it to her apartment by 11:15. We did the polar bear half of the zoo and went back out to the car to have our picnic lunch. Lunch only took about an hour to eat. And while she sat quietly and ate her lunch, I fussed and fought with my two girls and managed to cram a picked over sandwich and some strawberries down before it was time to go. The original plan was to return to the zoo, but after all of that I was exhausted. We decided to go to Old Navy to use our 5$ off coupons. I don't know if she'll ever go with me and the girls anywhere again. I never understand my friends that take their children shopping. Mine are terrible! They whine, cry, scream and somehow manage to pull a whole rack of clothes to the ground. I felt bad for my friend who was at our mercy. I could tell by the end of the day, she was ready to escape. So if my childless friends are exhausted from 5 hours of quality time with my children, why don't I get to be?

It seems like a mother is just expected to be exhausted, to be stressed, to be running around insane with 50 things to do and enough time to complete 2. I'm tired of running. No more running. This is my mantra every evening when around midnight I collapse into bed. Only to lay there eyes wide open, thoughts of all of tomorrow's tasks.
I've figured it up. I have 14 hours of the day to myself. Typically I try to stick to the rule of 5 around here. 5 hours of awake time before I make them nap and 5 hours from the time they wake up 'till they go to bed for the night. so really that's only 10 hours of the day that I have to be a mommy. The rest of the 14 hours could be spent wisely. Maybe if I made out a schedule, I could get it all done. You know, sweep the floors, mop the kitchen, rotate the toys, change the bed linens, do all the laundry, iron, do the dishes, clean out the fridge, organize the garage, scrub the tubs and toilets, rotate the girls clothes, shop for clothes, dust, vacuum, make 3 meals a day, garden, shower, get dressed, keep up a side business, make myself presentable, lose weight, study the Bible, catch up with friends, serve others, and get a good night's rest. Now I'm sure I've left stuff out. But if I did all that, I would spend about 30minutes on each task, including sleep.
I often argue with my spouse about how much a stay at home mom would actually get paid if you broke it down. Check this article out that says the figure is $122,172. ( http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/life/what-is-a-mothers-work-really-worth-456608/ )

But really, recognition and money aren't the point- although wouldn't the above figure solve a lot of issues in this house. I just want to know what's important. What do I do first? Do I spend all of the 10 hours with my children? Loving them and playing with them and feeding them and teaching them. Or do I break it up? Or do I give them my undivided attention for half of the day and work on the rest of the stuff (see the long list above) after nap time. Whatever it is, I find it difficult to strike a true balance. I find it difficult to fully complete one of those tasks in an efficient manner.
I do allow myself some downtime. My house is far from perfect (I should be cleaning instead of writing this.) My garden needs to be weeded, I need to do several loads of laundry and my bathroom rarely gets a thorough cleaning. I go out with friends some and I do get a babysitter to come when I really just have too much to do. But I wish in the mean time, I could find some peace. I wish I could be the mom who let everything go. Who only took one thing at a time, who never let the dishes, or the bills, or the yard hold her up from enjoying her babies. I pray for patience with myself. I pray for peace in this tumultuous environment. I pray for the understanding of what it means to embrace these gifts that my girls are.
I pray for these things and for you.

Ephesians 6:13 (The Message)
13-18Be prepared. You're up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it's all over but the shouting you'll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You'll need them throughout your life. God's Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other's spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.

Mother Lover

Ok so I got the title from a text I received today from a dear friend of mine, but I thought it was cute, so I'm claiming it.

On this so special of days I must of course tell you about my mother.

Paula is a rare breed. She is the mother of 3 and wife to a serious crazy man. Unfortunately for her, her children couldn't be more different (see the earlier post concerning Lydia.)

In 1991, my mother buried her youngest daughter, Hannah Rae, after a 3 year battle with Leukemia. I can't begin to describe how she was those 3 years. I can only say she was amazing and Hannah was the luckiest to be born to my mother. After Hannah died and a couple of years passed, my mother went back to school. Actually she never really went to college after her High School graduation. She married at 17 and she graduated with a class she'd never known because she and my dad moved shortly after their wedding. So when I was 14 and embarking on my new experiences in a new private school, she was taking the plunge of academics also. She was brilliant. The best grades, president of the Nurses' Association at Northwest Community. She received a scholarship to travel to London to study oncology nursing. She went to work after graduation and hasn't stopped since. She's worked every nursing job you can think of. She's been a nurse on the cardiovascular intensive care floor (the place you go after your triple bypass). She's been a home health care nurse. She's instructed CPR, worked as a shot nurse. And now for the past few years, she has administered chemotherapy to cancer patients. She is an amazing nurse.

As my friend, one of my best, she is fun. We laugh, too much. We yell, a lot. We cry, sometimes. But most of all, we just spend time together.

When I heard stories of mine and my sisters' births, she described her mother-in-law as the Mother Teresa of baby nurses. My grandmother would clean and cook and never hog the baby. Always my mother would tell me this. And mother would always say "When you have your babies, I will do the same for you." When Remle was born, I was having much difficulty trying to get her to breastfeed. Since my mom had breastfed all 3 of us, she had to be an expert, right? I can't tell you how many times my mother sat by my side and grabbed my boob and shoved Remle's head at a neck-breaking angle. It never worked, I cried and came close to violence a few times. The first few weeks of Remle's life I didn't hold her much. The baby pretty much spent her "mommy bonding" time with her "Lolly." I was mad then, and amused now. When Daily was born, she was in the NICU for the first week, so when I brought her home, I was alone. Remle was in daycare and I decided that I would be fine with just me and Daily. But I asked my mom to take off of work on the 1st week that Remle would be home with me full time. So she did. She also managed to get a stomach virus. So not only did I breastfeed a 3 week old baby and take care of a 14 month old, but I also nursed my sick mother back to health. I was exhausted and at my wits-end then, now I laugh in memory.

My mother is a hard worker. Her garden is a thing to behold. She works hard for her family. Always remembering our favorite things to eat. Making 4 different desserts and 3 different types of potatoes at Christmas. She remembers the little things. She has taught me how to celebrate even the smallest events. To make each birthday, Valentine's Day, Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Fourth of July and so on a special time. I learned how short life can be and my mother treasures each moment. She truly understands the sweetness of life.

My mother is a "Lolly" she always has a smile for my babies. She always has more love to give. She always seems to know exactly what they want. My girls love her and can never get enough.

My mother is a great daughter. Travelling 8 hours to get her mother after an ice storm left her without power. Making the same drive to take her to a doctor's appointment. Thinking of the smallest things and hoping to make her own mother feel special.

There are a million stories I could tell you about my mother. You would laugh and cry and beg for more. For me, she is a constant source of frustration and humor. I love her.

My true hope is that I have learned how to be so giving and loving and fun. I need more fun in my life, and my mother is always willing to give it.

Update

So I have seriously been working on a post since the middle of March. I can't seem to get it right and I think that I'm entirely too emotional to get through it right now. That being said, I'll put it aside and focus on the lighter side of life.

The big thing that I recently did was leave my two children in the care of my two very capable aunts to go on a 4 day cruise with my sister and mother. Lydia and I bought the cruise for mom last October (her 50th birthday,) but we chose to go in April to give ourselves time to prepare. And by prepare I mean lose as much weight as possible.

So beginning in January (because why would you start before the holidays?) my mother and I went into Death Com 5 mode and lost as much weight as possible. I don't know how much she lost, she looks great though. I am proud to say that I lost 45lbs. I'm also ashamed to say that while I lost that much weight, I still need to lose more.



Needless to say, much fun was had by all. It was very difficult for me to leave my girls. A few weeks before the trip I told Remle that I was going on a big trip and she was going on a little trip. And every time her response was "But I want to go on the big trip with you!" It just about broke my heart. I was a bit grouchy the first little while, I really missed them. I needed the break, but I haven't been away from them for more than a few hours before.



We drove to Florence, AL to drop off the girls at my Aunt Susan's house. My grandmother lives there with her and my Aunt Nancy had come down to help with the babysitting. My Aunt has a nice place out in the country. There is a cute little dachshund and plenty of gravel and yard to play in. We loaded them up with groceries, clothes, toys, books, crafts, medicine, and of course the run down on the ins and outs of being Remle and Daily. After a couple of hours of getting them settled, we left for Auburn to spend the night at Lydia's. Mom and I had quite an adventure just making the 4 hour trip to Lyd's. When we arrived at Lydia's, we made her try on dresses and show us what she packed and ask Matt to go get us Sonic for dinner. We were already having fun.
The next morning we packed up and left for Mobile. We got to the cruise terminal and stood in various lines like cattle for what seemed like hours. Finally we were boarding the ship. Our room was fine, nothing fancy, I did have to sleep on the floor. Well, it was a cot on the floor. And we unpacked and readied ourselves for the emergency drill. We were a bit confused and had to be told to come out of the room and bring our life jackets. They kept talking about our muster stations, but we had no idea which one was ours. (We finally figured it out on the 3rd day of our 4 day cruise. It was clearly labeled on the inside of the closet we opened about 50 times a day in big bold letters.) We went to dinner dressed up every night. We took professional pictures at every photo stand they offered. We ate every meal in the dining room. We consumed unbelievable amounts of soft serve chocolate ice cream. It was available 24 hours a day! We danced, sang karaoke, went to shows and laid out in the sun. We did have a lot of fun.








I was not sad to come home, I was so ready to see my girls. We were back in Auburn by lunchtime and decided to do a little shopping and spend the night hanging out with Lydia and Matt.








The next morning Mom and I headed to Florence. I was so excited the closer we got!

The girls of course were huge. Daily had grown a whole size! Her feet were bigger and she was talking so much. Remle now has the worst country accent. Everything she says has an extra vowel or two in it.

My girls were glad to see me. But I think that they enjoyed their time away too. I hope that I give them their special time with and without me. I thought that I would have no problem dropping them off and leaving them. I thought that I would be so glad for a break and peace and quiet. But the truth is, I missed my chaos. Remle and Daily, no matter how wild they are, are such a gift. I'm proud I'm their mommy.



Remle is talking non stop and has learned so many new things. Everyday she is closer to spelling her own name. She loves being outside now that the weather is nice. And she loves to help with all of my household chores. She likes to sleep with a large blanket over her crib now. Her "tent" has to be just right. She still takes a pacifier when sleeping. And during the course of the day if she's quiet, I've learned that she just went to bed so that she can have some alone time with her pacis. Remle has a deep fascination with insects. She has been bitten several times (although, fingers crossed, not yet stung.) She loves to pick them up and let them crawl on her. I'm trying to let her do her thing to an degree. I'm glad she is in touch with the smallest of living things. We worked on potty training for a couple of weeks and pretty much were trained in the tee-tee department. But for whatever reason, she no longer wants to do it, so I didn't push it. Hopefully she'll change her mind soon, as this 2 year old wears 3 and 4t clothing and the biggest diapers (size 6) are starting to get tight. :)


Daily talks over Remle. Full conversations are had between these very good friends and terrible enemies. They love each other one minute and maim each other the next. Daily is my climber. It is not unusual to find her on top of the kitchen table, or trying to climb into Remle's bed. She does every big slide that her sister can do. She is full steam ahead all day long. She loves her babies. Her latest favorites have the silky hair like Barbie. She had her favorite that we called "yellow baby" that was so tattered that I went to find more. I found them on clearance and bought nine of the same type (Disney Soft and Sweet.) The Easter bunny also brought her a Tinkerbell that has seen some better days. She calls Remle "mimi" and spends plenty of time screaming at Mimi for something unforgivable I'm sure. Her hair is not curly like Remle's, it's growing out and is constantly in her eyes. She rips out whatever bow or elastic I put in to keep her visibility clear. I can't wait until it is long enough for a full ponytail or to stay behind her ears. She's a mommy's girl and I'm careful not to play favorites, but love that she wants to cuddle me.

As I have said before, I'm blessed. God knew I needed the break, but also knew I needed the insanity. It just wouldn't be perfect any other way.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me...

As a foreword to this post, you must know I've been working on this for quite sometime. I have a compulsion to make all my writing perfect. And while they never really are, this one is more important than the rest. I've started and stopped due to denial, anger, bargaining and depression. The five stages of grief seemed to be relentless and I can not claim that I am close to the last stage of acceptance. I am a firm believer in Heaven and God and that those who go before us are the lucky ones. I desire to be in Heaven, I don't fear death for myself. I do not fear the "unknown." I have no reason not to believe what my Father, my Savior, has told me.

John 14:2

"In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you."

My grandfather was a hard man. He saw a lot of things in his life to make him this way I guess. I never really understood this when I was a girl. I just knew that he could be hard and that I loved him something fierce. He was larger than life in my eyes. In his eyes, I imagine he was just doing the best he could.

Ray Lynwood Carpenter Sr. was the husband of Rose Denton Carpenter and the father of Ray Jr., Nancy, Frank, Floyd and Susan. And I being his 2nd granddaughter (daughter of his 2nd son, Frank) was in awe of him. There was a whole house of us. I'll give you the list, just to be clear. Ray Jr married Pat and they had Little Ray and Rachel. Little Ray married Mary and they had Ariyal. Rachel married Jeff and they had Gage and Layla. Nancy married John and they had John Raymond, Andy and Thomas. John Raymond married Susan and they had Ethan. Andy married Wendy and they had Eli. Thomas married Callie. Frank married Paula and they had Brandy (yours truly,) Lydia, and Hannah. Brandy married Ab and had Remle and Daily. Lydia married Matt. Floyd married Libby and they had Wyatt, Whit, and Kayla. Wyatt had Trip. Susan married Harold and they had Bethany, Emily, and Kathryn. Bethany married Matt. Emily married Jon. So that's 37 so far. That doesn't include some of the adopted members we had along the way, or the ex-husband (mine) or wives (Wyatt.) Or the ex-husband and wife (John Raymond and Susan) that both stayed and Susan now brings her significant other. Or the 2 sets of great aunts and uncles that had no children of their own, so we took them in. So you see, my grandfather, from now on referred to as "papaw," was not people poor. Although sometimes you knew he wished he were.

Now that we've covered his blood family (well the basic few,) you must know about the rest of his family. The family he had at the Reynolds plant that he worked at for most of his adult life. Or his church family at Florence Blvd. Church of Christ. And of course there was his World Bible School family. The people he'd never met, who were brought to Christ because of his tireless work.

Hopefully you're beginning to get a picture of Papaw. To know him was to love him, respect him, fear him, and adore him. He wasn't perfect and made no presumptions to be so.

He was a good carpenter. He could make anything out of wood and spent many hours "in underneath the floor" as mamaw would say. His shop was dusty and unorganized and his place to escape I'm sure. He would sit in his chair in the living room with one leg swung over the arm. He would say "come here and let me pull your grass." And even though you knew that meant pull your hair (and that it would hurt) you let him. He made you want to behave not only cause he knew how to wield the razor strap but because he just made you want to be better than you were. He was honest and a little prejudice at times. He was giving and loved getting gifts. He wanted you to bring him back something every time you headed to the store. He told me stories about my daddy and aunts and uncles. He told me stories about the war. (He was an MP in World War II) He loved good food. We kids and grandkids knew better than to sit in his chair. We knew that he had a drawer full of old undershirts that made great nightclothes. We knew he didn't care if we shot the neighbors chickens. I broke up with a boy once because he told me that listening to Papaw sing the songs at church made his ears hurt. He was my hero. We felt his love. You could say "I love you, Papaw." and the typical response would be "ok." His strength carried us all. He loved the Lord and believed in being good to people. And I can't remember him ever telling me that he didn't have time to do something I wanted. I can't remember him ever not being happy to see me or any of his kids or grandkids.

Papaw once took me to Cracker Barrel and asked a waiter there to sing him a song. Papaw requested "Danny Boy" and gave to boy 5$ when he was done. I later got him a cd that Johnny Cash had released, one of the last ones he ever recorded. We listened to "Danny Boy" together and now I can't hear it without being propelled back to that moment.

My grandfather had diabetes, emphysema, heart disease and other health problems. He lived a full life but hated being dependent on his children and wife. I once asked him why if he was in so much pain did he not lay down and die. He told me that he just was not ready and that God wasn't ready either.

Papaw became difficult to maneuver out of the house. He was in pain and very sick. He couldn't walk without assistance and he had to stop attending church. But even a week before his death, he was still working on World Bible School. He died on March 17th, 2008. It feels like it was this morning that I was breastfeeding Daily and got the call that he went to be with his Father. Finally he was with the sister I'd lost and the granddaughter he never got over losing. He is able to walk freely now and see the faces of those that became redeemed into Christ because of him.

Even so, with all of the glorious things and more I'm sure, I miss him terribly. It could be that he was our family's center and now we seem to be slipping away. Or that my mamaw isn't the same and seems to have given up on her earthly life without him. It could be jealousy that he is with my precious sister or the babies that were never fully given to me. Whatever it is, there is a hole. I feel strongly about grief. I feel that we all grieve over different losses in different ways. I know that I should live in his legacy. I'm trying so hard to still make him proud. I didn't know him well enough and there was never enough time. I didn't make time in the end. My girls will never know the papaw I had. Yet I know that their Poppy will be the same for them.

I am a Carpenter through and through. I find myself wishing I could call him and just say "hello." I don't want to throw away a single piece of wood he has touched. I don't want to forget anything about him. I loved him and always will.

...and all my dreams will warm and sweeter be. If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me, I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.