Reasons Why...

I've often said that the reason I found the strength to force myself out of the most unhealthy of relationships I've ever had exists in my husband's eyes. He was able to see the butterfly through the damaged cocoon of fear and regret. It is because of him that I am happy and healthy today, so here it is, a list of reasons (we'll see how far I get) why I absolutely love that man.

1. He helped me to achieve my life's biggest goal: Motherhood.
2. He has the strongest stomach ever, absolutely nothing makes him cringe.
3. He can lift me sleeping from the couch and carry me to bed.
4. He rarely argues when I pick dinner - even if its something we've eaten 3x in two weeks :)
5. I can come to him with a problem/idea and he's open minded enough to at least hear me out.
6. He knows almost ALL Wiggles songs by heart.
7. He'll climb on any playground with our son to show him its safe for climbing.
8. He knows how to separate darks from lights & whites!
9. He calls me everyday on his way home from work to see if I need anything that he can grab on his way.
10. He looks damn fine in a backwards turned Rangers baseball cap.
11. He tolerates my eclectic music tastes. Somedays its Metallica; others its Opera.
12. He huffs and shakes his head when I click off the car radio because "that station plays way too many stupid commercials!"
13. He can twist me like a pretzel so that I can make my back pop.... aaahhhh.
14. He is so super sweet when he's rocking Wessie before bed.
15. During his morning routine while getting ready for work, he uses the light from his cell phone to gather his socks, undies & such so that he doesn't wake me up.
16. He brings me 'just because' roses.
17. He'll eat my concotions, and smile while doing so, telling me, "No, I think its good..."
18. He takes turns getting up with the baby on the weekends with me, so we each get one day to sleep in :)
19. He keeps all the little love notes that I tuck into his lunchbox.
20. He will sit through countless reruns of Twilight, New Moon and Eclipse; and is taking me to see Breaking Dawn pt.1 when it comes out this November!
21. He put up with my crazy self through all the years I was taking fertility drugs & hormones!
22. He used to be painfully shy when we first started dating (8 years ago!)
23. He is ever patient with my constantly growing brood of nephews & nieces -- and proudly wears the "Uncle Scustin" badge...
24. When the man dreams, he dreams BIG.
25. He knows how to use the weed eater.
26. He isn't skerred by creepy crawlies.
27. He has a major soft spot for animals of all kinds.
28. When I get obsessed with reading a new book - to the point where I hole up in the bedroom immediately after putting Westin to bed and leave him alone in the living room to watch TV - he comes to bed, kisses my  head, rolls over and pulls the covers up to his chin, all while laughing to himself.
29. He can take one look at me and know when to suggest that I go climb into a hot bath for an hour and relax.
30. He loves my randomness.
31. He never complains when I volunteer him to help with heavy lifting for a relative or friend.
32. He acts like a 5 year old kid when it comes to buying Hot Wheels cars for our son, "But he needs ALL of these!!!"
33. He's loved me through red, brown and blonde; skinny, average and plump (and preggo); made-up and dressed up to dressed down and bare faced.
34. When I want to start a project, even though he's fully aware that I'll probably only give it about 5 minutes worth of undivided attention, he's still excited for me.
35. If I'm sick, nothing I could ever ask for would be too trouble for him :)
36. He'll grocery shop with me.
37. He has no qualms about entering, shopping in and leaving Victoria's Secret carrying a bright fuschia striped shopping bag!

L o V E.

Heavy tear drops fall and splatter on my blanket covered lap, as I sit with my legs curled under me in the cowhide covered recliner in our living room and watch my husband play and laugh and kiss our beautiful son. Westin screams excitedly while Justin rubs his ears and jumps and growls at Wes again until he collapses in a heap of giggles and flailing limbs. These moments make me so warm, realizing that all it takes to make my eyes sparkle with happiness is a few moments of nonsense.

About this time 3 years ago, I was sitting in the same chair crying heavy and unhappy teardrops and letting them fall untouched onto my legs. We had been trying for and waiting on our miracle to come into our lives. Valentines Day 2008 was a rough one as I once again faced a single line on the home pregnancy test I held in a trembling hand. We thought we'd never be parents...

And now, here we are; proud Mommy and Daddy to a blue-eyed, blonde headed, baseball loving B-O-Y. He hugs our necks tight, and freely gives kisses, and loves his family and his "Doddies" (dogs) and tells our shephard Bo "No! No!" when she smothers him in slobbery doggie licks. He looks just like his Momma when he pouts; his underbite making his bottom lip pucker when he juts it out to show us he's unhappy. He signs for "more" putting his fingertips together and eyeing whatever it is that he wants (usually Candy!)  He rubs his open palms down his chest and exclaimes "Baa!" when its time for his bath, and rubbing his palms together while saying "wash aww" means "wash off" -- that he wants to wash his hands.

In preparation for parenthood, one might purchase a crib, scrub baseboards, search for a sensible 'family car' and give up that nasty 'cancer stick' habit -- or read every parenting book available to be certain that there will be nothing that will leave you with that 'deer in headlights; CRAP what do I do now?' situation. What you can't prepare for is the way that one tiny squawk can make you cry huge raindrop tears; how feeding your baby will make you feel proud; how overwhelming one diaper change can be; how beautiful the sun looks on a peach fuzz covered head; how you really don't even miss a daily shower... how big your heart can grow. And the Love, oh the love; how it seems to radiate from the soles of your feet to the tips of the strands of your hair; how it fills you up and swallows you whole; how immediately it takes over after a wiggly, warm cocoon of a brand new baby is placed in your arms after one of the most amazing experiences of your life.

Drink it up, savor every second -- and be ready for that Love to grow and change and amaze and occupy every thought you'll ever have for the rest of your life....

Happy Wednesday!

What would we do without our Sisters?

Sisters are good for lots of things. Here, let me list a few:

1. Stealing your favorite shirt/sweater/tube of lipstick and wearing/staining/using it all up before you've gotten the chance to do so.

2. Finding a pillow case long enough to stuff your 3 year old body into and tying a knot in the end, so you can't escape.

3. Telling you the monster in the closet will come out and bite you if you don't, "shut up and go to sleep."

4. Making you giggle so much you really do wet yourself.

5. Jumping out from around a corner, screaming and scaring the pee out of you, thus making you wet yourself, again.

6. Giving you a make-over on a Saturday night, cause they're bored.

7. Helping you with your homework.

8. Driving you around in their car, so you're the 'cool' middle schooler with the 'awesome' older high school sibling that can DRIVE!

9. Sharing their babies with you, and teaching you all of the wonderful, and sometimes not-so-wonderful things about being a Mother.

10. Telling you that those pants really do make your butt look smaller.

11. Coming to your house in the middle of the night with her husband (because your husband is gone on a work call) to help you dig a hole in the frozen ground to bury your puppy that passed away.

12. Confiding in you their secretest of secrets, and keeping yours.

13. Knowing when not to keep some of your secrets...

14. Caring enough to tell you the guy you're dating is a loser, and that her boyfriend will kick your boyfriends butt the next time they meet.

15. Coming to your rescue when another sister plays mean tricks on you.

16. Slapping you, pulling your hair, knocking you down, punching you in the gut; then helping you up, straightening your hair and saying, "You know I love you, but you're really pissing me off right now!"

17. Calling you when they see a car wreck on the road/scary story on the news/bad weather report to make sure you're safe.

18. Making  you wake up really early in the morning to play "school"

19. Teaching you how to shave your legs.

20. Being the kind of person you want to be 'when you grow up.'

Wishing Upon a Hero...

Wish Upon a Hero is a website dedicated to granting wishes. Founder Dave Girgenti wanted to create an online community that offered a place for people to help others after the attacks on Sept. 11 and Hurricane Katrina, working under the mantra of “No wish too large and no hero too small.”

"Wish Upon A Hero is completely free to its users, allowing everyone who registers the opportunity to cast up to three wishes at a time. Because Wish Upon A Hero is designed to help everyone, wishes can be big or small, elaborate or simple, based on financial need or just asking for a simple favor." ~ WUAH website.

The website was suggested to me from a friend who has used it many times; to grant wishes, and also to cast a few of her own. I love that there - a stranger can help a stranger, and can remain anonymous if they wish. People that have never met, and probably never will are doing things, big and small to help in any way they can...

I thought about the spirit of giving as I dropped off some clothes, a few toys and a couple of housewares at a donation site this afternoon. My son sat strapped into his carseat, watching me through the window as I heaved the heavy bag out of my trunk and over to the donation box. He laughed and waved to me and I made a silly face and waved back. I realized at that moment that I was giving more than just items to a family that needed them, I was giving the gift of giving to my son and to myself. Sure, he might be a little young to understand the concept this time, and thats ok. He'll definitely grow older... And I so look forward to the many more holidays I get to spend showing him that Christmas isn't just about how many presents are wrapped under the tree, but how giving can be a present in itself.

Who knows who he'll be a Hero to someday :)

Day 10: Down Right Beautiful!

Once in my younger years, a stranger in passing whispered to the woman she was walking with, "I wonder if that girl has some kind of genetic thing?" I immediately knew they were referring to the unusual way my nose is shaped, with the nonexistent bridge between my eyes, so it makes a curved "scoop" down to the bulbous tip... I remember having a heavy heart about that off-handed comment that I wasn't supposed to overhear or even understand for quite some time. My nose was a very tender subject for me; one that I was teased about at home and at school. Though I knew my family meant well and the "teasing" was more of a way to try to make me feel better about myself, my school-mates didn't shrare their affection. Their taunts and remarks were more of the brutal kind. And many a well-meaning parent looked at me through squinty eyes before realizing that they had been staring, only to shrug it off and go about their business.




a young Emily with her 'Papa'


I hit a turning point in junior high when, after a heart to heart with one of my still close girlfriends, I realized that my nose - was just a nose. I could let it bother me the rest of my life, or I could embrace it. I started to notice all of the ways that I stood out from those around me, and the differences made me... happy. Almost proud. If I wasn't going to "fit in" I planned on "sticking out" to the best of my ability. I was unique; no one else had a nose that looked like mine. Thats when the closeted extrovert in me got to crack open the door a little. I made some new friends, I joined a few clubs. It all seemed pretty easy then, once I learned that being liked meant I had to like myself first. Thats not to say that I wasn't still met with those who were uncomfortable with my strange appearance. And I still heard some hurtful things that would set me back a little. But there was no turning back now. I liked the way it felt to accept myself, even if some others out right refused to agree.

In high school I joined the dance team, where the Angel that was our dance instructor encouraged us to reach out, volunteer, get outside of our comfort bubbles. I took the challenge with an eager heart. We took trips to the Union Gospel Mission to visit the children, and community service was a requirement of being a member of the team. My junior year I volunteered to help with a project with the Discovery class of special needs students. I walked into a classroom that was full of excited, smiling, exuberant students. They all greeted me with an enthusiastic "Nice to meet you!" and I made about 8 immediate friends! After the project was completed, I visited with my new pals as often as possible. I would stop by their classroom to see what new things they were learning, and some would call to me down the hallway to wish me a good afternoon.

Once in a group conversation at lunch I was asked why I "got involved with those other kids". My response was "Why not?" The asker of the question was known for being a particularly 'loud mouthed' student, of whom I had made some attempts to befriend. Their constant negativity brought me down, and so I intentionally limited our interactions. Those other kids were my friends, what did it matter to why I got 'involved'? This person, I quickly assumed, was another of those that wasn't comfortable with the different or unique. And then it dawned on me, perhaps this nay-sayer was an old me. Maybe there was something they hadn't come to accept about themselves. My visions of this person being hateful were turned into seeing that they just needed to learn to love themselves. Then they might be able to love even the other kids. After that point I quit trying to avoid them, to trying to at least make peace with them. If only to show that I was different, and I accepted that fact, and that it was all going to be ok. When we graduated, we were still just acquintances. We hadn't become bosom buddies, but I had hopes that maybe I helped them in some small way.

Since those days, I've been blessed to make some awesome new friends. My husband and I had no idea when we bought our house after we were married, that we had hit the neighbor jackpot!! Little did we know that just across the street were 4 souls waiting to touch our lives. (and a few years after we moved in, a 5th little soul tip-toed her way into our hearts) The 'K' crew, as we so affectionately refer to them, have taught us so much about acceptance, life and more in the 5 short years we've come to know - and love - them. We've shared triumphs, as well as hopes and fears and dreams. And laughs. Oh, so many great laughs.



Kare-Bear, Koltie and K-Mo



Down Right Beautiful!

 Those beautiful babies' Mommy blogs over at Welcome to my world... where she shares her darling son's prayer and the wonderful workings of his amazing heart.

The National Down Syndrome Society's website offers this: "[The NDSS] envisions a world in which all people with Down Syndrome have the opportunity to enhance their quality of life, realize their life aspirations, and become valued members of welcoming communities."

That precious angel of a child, as well as his whole family has taught me to realize some of my life's aspirations. They have most definitely enhanced my quality of life and have made my husband, son and myself feel like valued members of our little, close knit community of neighboring houses. We were blessed beyond belief to have been given the opportunity to be a part of their lives, as they are a part of ours.

I so look forward to more Beautiful moments with the best neighbors that anyone could ever ask for!

Locks of Love

I've cut it short, I've dyed it red, brown and blonde. I've teased it, straightened it. I've pinned it, curled it, burned it (oops), highlighted it, pulled it and let it be. My hair has been through quite a bit in my 26 years on earth. But its always grown back, on my head and some other places of my body I wish it wouldn't... But if its one thing this life has taught me (with some very trying lessons) its not to take anything for granted. There are some children who would give all they could just to have a head-full of "normal" hair. Children who have been through far worse than 'a bad hair day'. Children who want to go outside and play with their friends, and not be stared at and labeled "different".

Locks of Love is organization that provides self confidence to those children that find themselves facing adversity in a dark time in their lives... "Locks of Love is a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children in the United States and Canada [under age 21] suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis. We meet a unique need for children by using donated hair to create the highest quality hair prosthetics. Most of the children helped by Locks of Love have lost their hair due to a medical condition called alopecia areata, which has no known cause or cure. The prostheses we provide help to restore their self-esteem and their confidence, enabling them to face the world and their peers."

The website states that *anyone* can donate hair. There are a few guidelines, the biggest one being that bleached hair (aka highlighted) is unacceptable, as it reacts with the chemicals that they use to treat the donated hair. Hair is used from men and women, young and old, all colors and races.

The next time you go to have your coif did, why not consider donating it to a child that could use a little boost? Maybe cut it a little shorter than you originally considered. The minimum length is 10 inches, tip to tip. How great would it be to encourage your daughter that can grow hair overnight to donate her ponytail to a boy or girl that can't grow it themselves? Was something ever done for you that was really wonderful? Is it time to 'pay it forward'? :)

Dizzy spells, sleep and fun with ICE

Plainly put: this weekend left absolutely zero time for blogging. Friday night I was hit with a crazy dizzy spell that could have taken down an elephant. I took some phenergan for the nausea and completely crashed at 900. I had high hopes of staying up until midnight and going with my awesome neighbors to the local WalMart to pick up my copy of the "Eclipse" DVD (yes, I'm a 'Twilight Mom'). No such luck. I didn't move from my position of laying sideways across the bed until 430 a.m. when I woke up, changed into some pajamas (I was still in my day clothes) unwound the covers and went back to sleep. Turns out, my loving and adorable husband went to said store at "uh, probably 1230 or 1 a.m." to purchase my movie. It was waiting for me on our lamp table when I woke with our son at 8 a.m. Saturday morning.

And most of Saturday was spent trying to sleep off the effects of the anti-nausea medicine I had taken the night before. Wes and I cuddled in the recliner reading books (still in our pjs) or layed on the floor playing blocks. The entire house (dogs included) napped from about 12 to 2 p.m. We didn't dress for the day until about 4 when we went out to get some sunshine, and grab a (light) bite to eat.

Sunday (after a night of very restful sleep), we woke rejuvinated and were treated to the awesomeness that is the Gaylord Hotel's ICE exhibit. The theme this year was "A Charlie Brown Christmas" -- a very, very cold tent (approx. 12 to 17 degrees F) filled to the max with ice sculptures depicting Charles Schulz's imagination at its best.

We had such a great time. We took the scenic route home, and even stopped off at Big Daddy's favorite Camping/Hunting Outfitters store to let Wes see the big "Pishies!" (fish)

All in all, an entire weekend spent with my small family of 3 and an outing with our large family of 14 (minus a sister and her hubby) makes for a happy and grateful mama.

P.S. While I didn't post about any 'service' this weekend -- I did go through my clothes and have quite a hefty bag ready for donation! :)

P.P.S. I am also doing (most) 'service' posts on my personal FB acct. Friday's was Friends of Wednesday's Child ~ "Friends of Wednesday's Child steps in to help make [a foster child's] new life in foster care joyful and to ensure that their needs are met. Friends of Wednesday's Child is the only organization that provides funds to fulfill the specific needs of North Texas foster children when no one else can or will so they are able to have as normal a childhood as possible." and today (Monday's) is Susan G. Komen for the Cure

P.P.P.S. Watch for tomorrow's post on Locks of Love! 

Day 3: Whats warm, snorts and has a curly tail?

An orange tabby cat named Milo and a fawn pug named Otis pawed their way into my heart when I was about 5 years old. The furry stars of the Japanese-made film won over many a child's heart in America. My Mom bought the VHS for me as a Christmas gift the year it debuted and that was about the time that my unabashed love for Pugs began.

Something about the bug eyes, wet nose and curly tail of a Pug just totally melts my heart! Many members of my family are/have been Pug owners. Currently, my great aunt, second cousin and sister all have pups from the same mommy pug. My mom and dad adopted Ousier Boudreaux the Pug when I was in junior high. (yes, they named her after Shirley MacLaine's character in Steel Magnolias) She was a BEAUTIFUL tiny fawn female pug with a heart of pure gold. Oh, how my mother adored that dog. And my crazy fawn girl, Bridget, was rescued from a rather unsanitary home in a chicken cage in September of 2007. "Pidgie" as I called her, held fast to my side through some of my most trying moments while trying to conceive. Sadly, she passed away in March of 2009 when I was 7 months pregnant with my son. I still miss her...

So its no question that the DFW Pug Rescue is so near and dear to my heart. They take abandoned and/or abused pugs and find foster homes for them until they are placed with a "forever family". The Rescue's "no pug left behind" slogan really, truly describes their practices. Be it old, sick, blind, deaf --- no pug is denied.

"We rescue ALL pugs regardless of age or medical condition. Since we rescue ALL pugs, our veterinary care is our biggest on-going expense and we average approximately $150,000 a year in veterinary expenses. This amount is after our veterinary care clinics provide deep discounts. 100% of all funds donated to DFW Pug Rescue are used to pay for Veterinary care."

Pugs really aren't "just dogs". They actually rank among the most demanding breed to care for. The folds in their faces need to be minded and kept clean. They are VERY prone to scratching their cornea's and needing eye surgeries (due to the bulging way their eyes are set). Some can have awful skin allergies, and do not tolerate heat and cold. This is probably a large contributing factor to why there is a need for such rescue.

But a pug's heart is just as big as their attitude! They are great family dogs; almost always aim to please and are ready to play at the drop of a hat. Most L.O.V.E. to cuddle and make great compaions.

My husband and I are currently parents to 3 "furbabies" -- 2 chihuahuas and a shephard mix. He sometimes pulls up the pugs available for adoption on the website and asks if I'm ready to be a Pug mama again. The ache in my chest for Bridget has yet to heal, and I know we are far too busy with our toddler and 3 poochies to be ready to welcome another couch Pugtato into our home and hearts.

If you find yourself just absolutely unable to pinch the pennies any tighter this holiday season, perhaps you can dig elsewhere to find something to donate? Most rescues and animal shelters will take blankets, towels, bowls and even some kitchen gadgets! Do your spring cleaning a little early and see if you might be able to help our 4 legged (and maybe even some 3 legged) friends.

Day 2: The Young and the Ruthless

I got an envelope in the mail yesterday with the print on the front claiming that there was a special gift tucked away inside for me. I opened the letter from St. Jude Children's Research Hospital to find a picture of a cancer fighting 2 year old little girl looking back at me. The gift was my yearly holiday themed address labels for me to use on my Christmas cards (and I do!). Guess my second day of service was literally staring me in the face. I've logged on this morning to www.stjude.org and browsed the site. To be honest, I usually just mail in a check whenever they send me a letter. It never occurred to me - until today - that I could save the paper and just donate online... wake up call. Serving sick children and Mother Earth both at the same time.

I didn't always support St. Jude monetarily. I didn't always know that there were so many children struggling to fight illnesses that my experiences taught me only "elderly" people got. Once while gathering with friends at Chili's, the waitress brought around a stack of 6x6ish inch papers with chili peppers printed on them, and a couple of crayons. She instructed that if we would like to donate $1 to St. Jude's and color a chili however we chose, that they would hang it up in their restaurant. I did so, and thought more about how creative I could be with the crayons and piece of paper than how my single donated dollar was going to help St. Jude's fund research to help kids not much younger than me live a little longer. A short while after the Chili's evening, I caught a tv special on an early Saturday or Sunday morning with Alec Baldwin narrating stories about 3 different children that had gone to St. Jude's in order to treat their Leukemia and brain tumors. Two of the children did not live through their treatments, but the other got to go home to the arms of her very happy and loving family. I sat and bawled, I could not turn the channel.

To quote the website about the history of St. Jude's:

"When late entertainer Danny Thomas opened the doors to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in 1962, he was not just changing the lives of those children who would walk through its doors. He was changing lives across the world."

Yes, my life was changed that morning. I knew I wanted to be a Mother to my own children someday; what if my children ever had to visit St. Jude's? When I donated, I knew then that I had supported them, if they should ever have to support us through a very trying time; but that wasn't my only reason for giving. Cancer had taken the lives of my grandmother and grandfather just a few years before. Cancer is everywhere. It touches families: babies, toddlers, kids, teens, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins.... friends. If my single dollar went towards givng a Mother an extra day to spend with her daughter or son, then it was money well spent.

But I'm not just writing about St. Jude's to get you to open your pocket book. I'm asking more that you open your heart. I'm asking that you be grateful for every healthy child in your life. I'm asking that you not take your own health for granted, or even that of your siblings, parents, grandparents or neighbors. Some children are born into this world and only live a short while. Some parents will visit headstones this Christmas, while you are sitting warm in your living room, holding your loved ones close.

So lets give thanks for a place like St. Jude's for all they're doing for the young people in this world. They are the ones, after all, that will take our places when we've gone. Help me share the story of these deserving kiddos that are *ruthlessly* fighting cancer for the right to live their lives every day?

Thank you!

32 Days of December

I don't have a thousand Facebook Friends. My Blog is followed by a whopping 6 readers. Unless I go to the grocery store, I only see approximately 10 people a day. The life of a Stay-at-home-Mommy/Work-at-home-Auntie is not exactly what one would call "social". But I do have access to millions of trillions of people via the wonderful World Wide Web! I can post something on my blog or Facebook and ask my very sweet  "friends/followers" to repost, and they can ask their friends to do the same. Then, awareness can be raised that might not have been. And it all starts with one. One person can do one facebook post, or send one email, or click the donate button and give one dollar.

My sister was on her way out this morning after dropping off her youngest to me for the day, when she mentioned reading about an orphan named Cliff right now sitting in a government orphanage in Europe. He has Down Syndrome and there is a fundraiser being done to help whomever might decide to adopt him with the fees that go along with that enormous and selfless decision. After reading about it myself, I immediately posted a Facebook status with the link to Make Christmas Count for Cliff (see: button on my sidebar) so that my loving friends could repost, and raise awareness and maybe send some more donations his way.

And so starts my 32 Days of December Service project. My blog may not be one where you can come to be entertained, or even to be educated. But you can come and read what goes through my mind as I sit and let my fingers drift over the keyboard. And now they're directed at a purpose, to enlighten. I want to spend every single day in December in service. It may come in the form of donating blankets, canned goods or clothes to the local shelters in my area. Or helping a senior citizen load groceries into their car after their shopping trip at the store. But I will admit, most of my service will come in the form of finding worthy causes on the net and spreading the word about them. Raising awareness. Not just raising funds for all these things, though that is a goal as well.

As it is, I stand at my kitchen counter right now typing this up on my laptop as my nephew and son finish up their Chicken Nugget, fruit and milk lunch. My hands are busied most of the day with the loving task of changing diapers, wiping noses, kissing boo boos, reading books (over and over and over...) and putting babies down for naps. I wouldn't trade that for all of the money in the world. But, it does leave little time to do much else (including but not limited to: bathing, brushing my hair and putting on make-up or even matching clothing) I would love to find the hours in the day to create a lasting Memory book for my son - complete with stickers and hand written captions that detail every single action in every single picture; or to even go volunteer at the DFW Pug Rescue to help abandoned and abused Pugs to find loving homes. Maybe someday in the not too distant future, I will find some time to Martha Stewart my way through planting my very own vegetable garden and compost bin. But that day is not today.

This is what I am able to do with the time I have... right now. I'm setting no rules, I feel like that might limit me. I am going to strive to do this every.single.day. for 32 days (starting today). If you have a link to provide or a worthy cause to consider, I'm all ears. I will be either blogging or facebook posting, or both about my findings and actions.

Comments are more than welcome and much appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

Blogging in Bed

All I can say is: I really love WiFi, and my laptop, and our pillowtop mattress. I can veg out in front of cable tv (on mute) while listening to my playlist and enjoy a warming cup of cocoa. This is my idea of self indulgence. My sweet baby boy is snoozing in his room, Big Daddy is in the living watching "his shows" and I'm back here, in the quiet stillness surrounded by fluffy pillows and warm blankets.

Forget the facials and shopping sprees and spa days; I'll take a quiet half hour at home-sweet-home to recharge my batteries, reflect on the day, and be ever so grateful for the things I have in my life. A few moments to Thank the Man in Charge for another blessing filled day.

My nephew asking "Mommy! (sometimes Memmie) Watch!?!" Seeing my sister hug and kiss her son and mine. My Westin giving me random hugs and kisses, and my husband catching me off guard in a sweet confession of just how awed he is at our amazing child. Wishing my ill sister a better day tomorrow, and telling another sister to soak in all the youth of her babies now cause it'll be all too soon that they'll be leaving the nest and her at home willing them to come back and get under her feet and raise a ruckus.

Everyday I'm reminded that my Westin won't stay little for long. He grows and changes so much by the minute! It seems like it was just last month that he learned how to sit up unassisted, and now he's walking and talking, pointing out the "Pane!" (plane) and "Pih-ees" (pretties)...

So I'll rock him and let him twirl my hair until he tires of it. (I had considered cutting my hair in a short bob, but I think I'll leave the length so he can continue to run his fingers through it.) I'll pick him up and tote him on my hip until I just can't carry him anymore. The days are quickly running out, I know this all too well. Then other childish rites will replace the baby milestones...

But until then, I'll tuck in my little Wessie-poo, wish him sweet dreams and whisper 'I love you, booger boo' in his ear and slowly walk out of his bedroom door, smiling at him all the way. Then I'll sit for a few moments and enjoy just sitting; until it gets too quiet and I start wishing for daylight and for my boy to be awake again.

:)

Daydream Believer

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings
Of the bluebird as she sings.
The six o'clock alarm would never ring.

But it rings and I rise,
Wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
My shavin' razor's cold and it stings.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean?
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

You once thought of me
As a white knight on a steed.
Now you know how happy I can be.

Oh, and our good times start and end
Without dollar one to spend.
But how much, baby, do we really need.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

~

Well, the Monkees had it partly right. I was, and still am, a daydream believer but I was only a Homecoming Court Princess. No Queen here...


Never-the-less, my daydreams go something like this:

Justin and I in a big log country house with vaulted ceilings, rustic and antique furniture invite you to sit down and curl up with a good book. The mix of soft, faded, love worn fabrics in muted colors against the hearty, solid heaviness of the pine. Horses grazing in the pasture on grass as green as the Ireland hills with a breathtaking view of the rugged Texas landscape. The pinks and periwinkles of the setting sun, mixing together with cotton candy clouds in a quickly dimming sky. A warm fire crackling in the stone hearth, a big pot of beans smellin up the house as they bubble on the stove. My babies, all 20 of them nestled in their own little heavens -- some out in the tree house fighting off pirates with sticks for swords, some on the swingset trying to swing so high that they might land on the moon, others snuggled down in their beds, napping. And always, at least one (or two, or three...) in my lap, listening to me read "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish"

And then I blink, and its all gone. And I'm faced with a reality thats actually *better* than a daydream. My very own son, smiling up at his Mommy that was lost in her own mind for a few moments. He giggles when I blow raspberries on his tummy. He claps and dances when the Wiggles sing a merry tune. He signs "please" "more" and blows kisses when he's trying to sign "thank you"... He reaches up his tiny hands to twirl my hair as I rock him to sleep. And he's R E A L. No amount of daydreaming could ever do justice to just how precious a child that is my baby boy.

The roundabouts & inbetweens

In my car there are animal crackers crunched into the baby's seat and carpet, juice splatters on the vinyl, sticky fingerprints on the windows, bouncing balls and board books cluttering the floor boards, a sturdy stroller in the trunk, a few loose sweater & blankies for the upcoming cold weather, a handful of restuarant napkins in the glove box, Toy Story in the travel DVD player for fussy car rides...

In my living room live about 1800 different kinds of sports balls, 5 different baseball bats, books with various pages torn out (one special, very loved "Bubbles, Bubbles" Sesame Street cardboard book has duct tape holding the binding together) various wheeled scooter toys great for pushing cousins in, lots of floor/throw pillows for pillow fights & cuddle sessions, a CD binder stuffed to the gills of Wiggles, Kidsongs, Sesame Street, Elmo's Greatest Hits, Nanny McPhee, Toy Story (1,2 & 3) Shrek, Little Women...

My "purse" contains one tiny wrist-wallet with my necessary id's and payment methods, a wipes case, 2 spare disposable diapers at all times, a package of crackers, a few errant gum wrappers, chap stick and a hairbrush.

My mind flutters through memories of first smiles, fits, words, feedings, cereal spills, sneezes, staring at my son while he sleeps, rocking chair giggles, bumps, bruises....

And my heart houses the love that beats & grows in size every second that I spend with my miracle child!

Judgements.

I started this on my Facebook status, as a stray thought, and now that I've given it a little time to percolate I've realized I could really elaborate on it...

Please Don't Assume --

... that just because I wear make-up, I feel ugly without it.

... that just because I am at home with children all day, I am incapable of hacking it in the 'professional' world.

... that just because I chose to pay for fertility treatments instead of my college tuition, that I have no sense.

... that just because I don't live in a mansion or drive a brand new car, I am without luxuries.

... that just because I've lived in the same town all of my life, I am ignorant to world events.

... that because I can smile in the face of adversity, I don't cry behind closed doors.

... that every word out of my mouth is aimed directly at you.

... that just because I am opinionated, I am witchy (with a B).

... that just because your day is jammed packed leaving you without personal time, that you can't still reach out & help in someway.

All in the Family...

Love After Love

by Derek Walcott

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here, Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine, Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

~

My eldest sister just started her blog: Three Small Men and she is so very gifted in her writing, among her many talents. She must have inherited it from my mother, who blogs over at Texas Trifles.

The talent for putting thoughts into witty words, so to paint a picture in the mind must have been diluted by the time it got down to the 4th daughter. Sadly, I am nowhere near the writers that the other two beauties' blogs I listed are. Actually, I'm fairly certain the last sentence I just wrote could use re-wording and better structure... (however the sound of the television drifting into our tiny, messy & cramped "office" - 'professional wrestling' no less - is making it a bit hard to concentrate, but I'm not much for excuses)

I hope that you, whoever is reading this, enjoys my ladies' musings. Their stories are a treat, so sit down, relax and feast on the genius that is their gift.

Dixie Chicks "Lullaby"

I sing this song to Westin, when he's restless, when I'm rocking him, when he smiles at me, when he wakes up in the morning, when we're shopping at the grocery store....

They didn't have you where I come from

Never knew the best was yet to come

Life began when I saw your face

And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved?

Is forever enough, is forever enough?

How long do you want to be loved?

Is forever enough

Cause I'm never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you're asleep

To hold you close and feel your breath on me

Tomorrow there'll be so much to do

So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

How long do you want to be loved?

Is forever enough, is forever enough?

How long do you want to be loved?

Is forever enough

Cause I'm never, never giving you up

As you wander through this troubled world

In search of all things beautiful

You can close your eyes when you're miles away

And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved?

Is forever enough, is forever enough?

How long do you want to be loved

Is forever enough

Cause I'm never, never giving you up

Why can't we know Why?

Here's a list of things I should be doing:

1. Vacuuming (ugh...)
2. washing/folding/putting away laundry
3. organizing/cleaning out paperwork in office
4. sleeping

instead I chose to blog. I may, however, regret it if my son wakes up when I'm slipping into bed.

But I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep without putting my worries into words and 'getting it off my chest':

My heart is hurting for my sister toinght. She is facing the same troubles that I did (and do) when I was trying to get pregnant. Her situation is a bit more complicated though, as my brother-in-law is not open to adoption as my husband still is. She called me this afternoon, in fairly good spirits, to tell me about her Half Priced Books find today. A comedic & sarcastic look into the world of infertility; how to answer the good-intentioned friends when they ask 'why you don't have kids yet' and mothers' stories of how they 'beat' infertility.

There are many injustices in this world that I know I will never understand. I only ask that God be with my sis tonight, and ease some of the heartache I know she's going through, and is yet to endure in her journey to become a Mommy.

I love you, big sister.

Our Family Begins!

Our Family Begins!

Try, Try, Try, Try, Try, Again???

If you haven't read all of the very few postings on this blog, then you may not know that it took over 3 years, some painful procedures, and lots'o'drugs to conceive our son Westin. Each month that didn't work, I went through the motions of disappointment, but I found that I had unbelieveable resolve and determination to find something that worked. I logged countless hours of internet research, I scoured the local bookstores' shelves for books devoted to conceiving. I think my husband and I only took about 4 months worth of breaks (tops, 6) in those years. Looking back, I am utterly amazed at the will I possessed to attain what I so desperately longed for.

The first wonderful, blessed, beautiful year of my son's life has almost come to pass, and I find myself wishing everyday that I could go back just 10 short months ago. I want to feel again the awe and humility in the moment that the plastic test in my hand showed 2 pink lines, instead of one. I want my belly to get big and round under my sweater. I want to wake in the middle of the night to jabbing kicks and punches to my vital organs. I actually (strangely) want morning sickness! I loved the feeling of growing a life, and feeling it thrive in my body. And then when he was born; his limbs flailing in the immediate space that he had to move after delivery; his stunning, large blue eyes scanning my face for mine; his soft, pale pink skin against a warm flannel blanket. Its no wonder that people like the Duggars have so many children. Its such a spiritual thing to witness, a new life coming into the world.

And now when we tote Wes around, and everyone gives their "Aw!" and 'He's Adorable!" the third thing that inevitably comes is "So, when are ya'll going to try again?" I want to scream "Hey, do you know how hard we worked for this one?!!?" but I know strangers have no idea of the troubles we endured; so we just smile and say "Maybe soon." or "We'll see..." or "We're just enjoying spoiling him right now!"

But, the questions echo in our heads... Do we want to stay a family of 3? Could we afford another beautiful baby? Will all of the same obstacles stare us in the face? Would a second pregnancy go as smoothly as the first?

And the wheels on the bus go round and round....

In the shuffle (on my Playlist)

I have a very, very eclectic taste in music. Artists on my playlists include: my all time favorite Jewel, Andrea Bocelli, the Dixie Chicks, Robert Pattinson, Iron and Wine, Elvis Presley, Mandy Moore, Sarah MacLachlan, Enigma, Metallica, Stain'd, Stevie Nicks, Rob Thomas (Matchbox 20), Counting Crows, Pearl Jam, Led Zeppelin, The Shins, Stoney LaRue, the Rolling Stones, Sheryl Crow, Dolly Parton, Prince, Ludacris, **I think you get the picture**

Anyhow, one night while perusing Playlist.com (and being a total narcissist: i.e. searching for songs with the title of my same name) I happened upon an artist named Catherine MacLellan. The love I have for a solo acoustic guitar, and a folksy Soprano made "Emily's Song" an immediate favorite....

"Emily's Song"

When the rain pours down like this
on the working days,
you could just lay in bed,
but you know that you can’t stay there.

Well your whole life’s changing,
you got the house for sale,
23 years rearranging,
each breath seems a sad exhale.

Well love can be so forgiving,
gives you one more reason to live,
you just keep on breathing…

When the rain pours down like this,
and it just won’t stop,
its hard to recall asking the weather,
to send down those drops.

So let’s dance, let the water find us,
let’s gather round.
Love is coming at us from every angle,
let our joy abound.

Yes love can be so forgiving,
gives you one more reason to live.
You just keep on breathing…

So please don’t let me stop moving,
don’t let me sink on down.
I can feel my mind start losing,
I don’t have time for that right now.

So let’s dance let the water find us,
let’s gather round.
Love is coming at us from every angle
Let our joy abound,
Let our joy abound!