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.

My Favorite

Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday. I do love Christmas and Mother's Day. But for whatever reason it has been my favorite for a while. I've even been dumped on Valentine's Day. I've spent several alone (I know, if you know me-that's difficult to believe.)
I think it's my favorite because it doesn't celebrate anything else other than love. And I'm not sure if the holiday was meant to be reserved for those you have a romantic love for, but I don't care. I like to think Valentine's Day is meant for all of those you love.
I'm a lover. I always have been. I have a really short fuse. My temper is awful. Yet as quickly as I am angered is as quickly as it is gone. I rarely hold grudges. I rarely yell. Most times that's a good thing, but sometimes I wish I were better at sticking up for myself.
Anyway, back to the love. In honor of this special day I thought I would try to list some of the things that I truly love. Some of them are people, some are inanimate objects, some are memories, and some are dreams. I have no idea of whether or not this will interest you, but I feel moved to share anyway.

• the sound of rain on a tin roof - my sister, Lydia, and I used to share a bed when we lived in our single wide trailer. We had a little window in our room. I remember just laying there thinking how beautiful the rain was. How everything was right in my life (I was very young.)
• the smell of Tommy Girl perfume - I wore this perfume when I was in Australia. I don't even have it anymore, but when I smell it, I am literally transported back to that place. My mind allows me to see, hear, smell, and feel everything that Australia was to me.
• writing - I don' t know if I'm a good writer. I often don't pay too much attention to grammar like I should. Some people have told me that I'm talented. I'm forever working on this one book. I have written countless poems. I write best at night.
• ice cream - I love Breyers chocolate chip cookie dough. I've tried other brands and it's just not the same. Mind you, I haven't had any in quite some time. Ice cream doesn't help me lose weight.
• my girls - I actually have 4. Of course there is Remle and Daily, but I have two Jack Russells living with me right now (one on loan from my sister while her fence is being built.) Playing outside with all 4 of them is fun. My daughters love them and my dogs love the attention. I have always been a dog person, I grew up with them. I highly recommend the movie "Marley and Me." If you are considering owing a dog, or having children, or either one, or both, you should see this movie.
• Sha - we've known each other since kindergarten. You always hear about the good friends that you'll have in different seasons of your life. I agree, I have had some friends that were perfect for me when I was in a certain place. But my friendship with Sha has seemed to transcend all of that. Mind you we haven't always been the closest. We had our times when we argued or simply had other things going on. And all of those times we have found a way to find each other again. We have never had a problem picking up where we left off. I have no reservations with her. I laugh at her and cry with her. I believe in her. She encourages me and keeps me grounded. I am appreciative for everything she has done and everything she has kept me from doing. I have no reason to believe that our friendship will ever end. I think she is truly one of those gifts that God knew I would really need.
• my family - I have a big family. Of course there are my parents and sister and brother-in-law; my in laws; my little foursome. And then there are the extended one. My cousins are more like my siblings. My aunts and uncles more my parents. We have a unusual chemistry. Like in the movies in a way. Difficult to explain and not always stable, but a force to be reckoned with.
• my role models - all of them at different times in my life, and I'm sure I'll leave some out, but a few to start: my parents, my sisters, the Bright family, the Moore family, Michele Moss Brown, Christy Honeycutt Brockman, Grant Knisley, Jamie Robinson, the Rubios, my grandparents, my aunts, Sha Moore Toohig, Tami Billings (wherever you may be,) Lois Colvett, Janet Honeycutt, Johnny Cash, Jeanie Finzer, Teena Cummings, the Chesters, Marka Bennett, Debbie Edwards, the Iveys, Tim Cutberth, Mr. Sanders, Tommy Drinnen, Karen and Garry Brown...to name a few.
• Opryland - I know this sounds crazy. It's not even there anymore. When they tore it down, I mourned for months. That place had so many memories for me. I knew it like the back of my hand, and being a roller coaster fan, I went way too many times to count. I miss it and I know there are better theme parks out there, but I really wish I could have taken my girls there. They would probably look at it and laugh. But I don't have a single bad memory of that place. It made me happy. What's so wrong with that?
• music - I saved the best for the last because if you know me, you know how I crave it. While I do love a good song, lyrics do not have to be involved. I can hear a song once and if it grabs me, I know it. You may know I sing a little. I'm loud and it used to get me made fun of. I can sing softly, but if I'm singing because I want to and not paying attention, I am loud. I love the way music makes me feel better. I love the way it can make me cry. How like a certain smell, just a few notes can take me to a different place in time. I love how music can communicate so much more than words can. It is timeless and perfect and without prejudice. It is my sanctuary.

So that was a pretty long list and I thought I was keeping it short. You may have known that I loved all of these things. But on Valentine's Day, a day set apart for love, I wanted to share.

Valentine's day never really goes the way I think it will. And really it's just one day, I shouldn't put that much emphasis on it. My dad always brought my sister and I a rose and something chocolate to school. Maybe that's how it started for me. All I know is that I hope that I can pass the importance of love to my children. Love is something that you do. And if only in the smallest of ways, an impact is still made.

Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you know you are loved.

Picture Time

Since the girls both reached age milestones recently my mom and I took the girls to have their picture taken. We went to Portrait Innovations in Collierville. I highly recommend this place. They took 123 pictures. They listen to the things I like and don't like. They let us do a wardrobe change and were very patient with me while I chose the 4 pictures I liked best. (I had some serious panic going on by the end of it, thank goodness my mother was there.) It's a great deal. They even have a package for $9.95. If I knew that I would have the strength to just get one pose and only pay that small price, I'd take them every month. Instead I go about every 3 or 4 months. We will probably go back in June when Daily is 18 months. I did decide to have my picture taken with them. I'm not crazy about it, but I know I'll be glad I did it.

I grew up with a mom who treasured pictures. I honestly don't know if she's ever thrown one away. I am a bit of a pack rat because of her. I recently went through a box of pictures she had collected from the house. I did throw some away, only because I had so many of the people in them already. It didn't make sense to keep them.

I always told myself that I'd keep all the pictures of ex-boyfriends and old friends, love letters and pass around notes, ticket stubs and clippings. I wanted something concrete to show my children. I never felt like I had enough of that from my parents. I never felt like I knew their younger selves well enough. Maybe we're not supposed to know our adolescent parents. Maybe we'd be a little afraid of what our 20-something folks would look like. I'm sure we'd be surprised. I'm sure my parents didn't always have that confident air they have now. Still it would've been nice to see a glimpse of them, more than what a studio picture can tell. So that's why I keep those things in a big box beneath my bed. Sure I go back and read some of those old love letters, it makes me laugh. But hopefully it will impact my girls in a different way. Maybe they'll understand me better. Or gain a perspective on what life could be like or will become. Then again, maybe it's foolish thinking. My children may never ask to see those things. They may not care about what their mother was like at that age. And to be honest, I may be a little sad if they don't.

I do believe the past can help us grasp the future.

And I wonder what technologies will be around in the next 5 years to help me capture my girls. We bought a video camera right after Daily was born. I do love having those moments. I haven't gotten the whole transfer to DVD down perfectly yet, but I'm working on it.

Hopefully, my children will cherish these things. Not everyone has the same sense of nostalgia. But if I pass something along to Remle and Daily, I hope it is the sense that I cared enough to capture their memorable moments. Even if some are only in my heart.

Cradle-Roll

Many of you have seen my Facebook statuses lately. A friend and I are hard at work to start a cradle-roll at church. If you didn't grow up in the Church of Christ like I did, then you may have no idea what a cradle-roll is. Well simply put, it's a Bible class for babies. Why they just don't call it "baby Bible class," is beyond me.
I'm really excited about this opportunity.

When I first visited Friendship Church of Christ, I was overwhelmed with not only how friendly everyone was but also how much my 2 year old, Remle, was learning in her class. Not only did the church offer regular Bible class with activities such as singing and crafts, but also provided a Jr. Bibleland during worship. I love it. I drop her off at the beginning of class and don't see her again until worship is over. And all week long we talk about Bible class. And each Wednesday, she's excited to go back to class.
The first Sunday that we visited, there was someone in the nursery to watch my then 10 month old, Daily. She was the only baby in there. And from that day forward I took her with me to class and worship. I didn't see a need for a person to miss out on worship for one baby. Now Daily is almost 13 months and is difficult to handle during class and worship. Another mother of an 8 month old girl is having the same problem.
As of March, the church will have 4 children under the age of 18months. It just seemed like a natural thing to do. So I went to the source.
My grandmother taught cradle-roll for 30 years. What a legacy! My mother taught cradle-roll for many years also. I have big shoes to fill. My mom has helped me with the bones of the program. She taught me the basic curriculum and gave me a list of necessary supplies to get started.
Monday I ordered the table for the class. And Thursday I will be working in the nursery trying to decorate and organize what I can.
I'm typically a "it needs to happen yesterday" person. I'm the least patient with myself. It seems like it has been forever that we've been working on this. But I think that's because it has become a real need in our congregation.
I've been all over 2 different counties looking for what I need. As I was racking up at a local dollar store, the cashier asked me if the stuff was for a daycare. I replied that no it was for a baby Bible class. She looked at me quizzically and said "You're going to teach babies about God?" It was a powerful moment for me.

Both of my girls were winter babies and I didn't take them out much before 3 months for fear of them catching cold. But I recently read a blog of an acquaintance who had documented her daughter's first visit to church. In the picture documenting this blessed event, the little girl was already able to stand on her own! How important I believe it is for our children to be exposed to Jesus Christ as early as possible.

If you still are not convinced that babies need a Bible class or are even capable of learning, I urge you to check out this article about a church in Texas.
http://www.childrensministry.com/ArticlePrint.asp?ID=1763
If you still are not sure, bring your baby to the class in a few weeks. Even if you don't leave with a clearer understanding of who our Savior is, I'm sure your little one will have a great understanding of how wonderful the cradle-roll class is.



Luke 18:16 (The Message)
15-17People brought babies to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. When the disciples saw it, they shooed them off. Jesus called them back. "Let these children alone. Don't get between them and me. These children are the kingdom's pride and joy. Mark this: Unless you accept God's kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you'll never get in."