Most of you get blips of my life through this blog. I write mostly about our children. Today I thought I would give you a snapshot of what inspired me.
Growing up my parents were so incredibly proud of me but also very strict and I would tend to say legalistic. Actually they would tend to say that as well now. They were extremely religious. Every time the church door was open we were there. My life consisted of church, Christian school and more church. I rarely made friends even in my own neighborhood. We were known as the weirdoes because we did not have a TV. I could not relate to most children talking about their favorite shows and movies because my parents did not believe in going to movies either.
Now granted the only time I ever missed these things was when the children would gather on the playground to play a certain story and I did not know what the story line was.
We went to a small Christian school with only 80 students in K - 12. I went there from the time I was 4 until 8th grade. I must admit I did enjoy the smaller school. As I got older I got over my clumsiness and channeled it into cheerleading and volleyball. I lived for the games. I met my three best friends there. They were both older than me but when you’re going out with one of their brothers that make you in the “in” group.
Four times a year we would go to the farm. The farm was where my grandparent’s lived and where my father grew up. It was in a Friends Community. It was a simpler life. I never could understand why my father would get so worked up whenever we went there. Years later he divulged the life he had on the farm. It was a life of strict and discipline. He recalled being brought to the barn on many occasions and not just spanked but beat. I can honestly say that my grandfather was just repeating what he had been raised with. Yes, there is a difference. One is done out of love and one out of anger. The cycle had been passed to my father’s generation.
When he was old enough to leave, he left and didn’t look back. When he met my mother and got married she knew that she would be the main disciplinarian. Even though some in both the Baptist and Friends community saw that as weakness, he had girls. He thanked God every day he had girls. I remember him saying it in a prayer at dinner. I asked him why one day. His response, “I think if you had been boys I would have repeated the cycle. My goal was to break the cycle of abuse. I don’t know that I would have been strong enough to do so had you been boys.”
I have since thanked my father repeatedly for acknowledging and wanting to be the first link in breaking the cycle of abuse. He credits my mother with her love and good home that she was raised in. He also credits God for the strength because we tried his patience sometimes on a daily basis.
I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like had he not recognized his need for self-restraint. I also think of how much he in a sense gave up so that my mother could handle us. Some still view it as weakness. I now view it as strength. I sometimes think that if I didn’t know the difference between disciplining out of love and anger how my children would be now. I now understand the role my mother had to play, loving both her husband and her children.
I greatly respect them for their choices and decisions. As I look into the faces of my happy children, I realize that my parent’s history has been one of many of their greatest gifts to me.

I never get into politics. Reason is…well on this blog it is not my thing. This election I have not a clue who I am voting for and didn’t go to the primary elections because I didn’t know where I stood.
One thing is for certain….after seeing this I feel one of my canidates is out of the question. Interesting how church and state don’t seem to be seperate here.
I still don’t know…but the water is getting less muddy in some respects and muddier in others.

If only I could stay away from the sugar cookies. It’s just not going to happen. I have to come to the realization that I am addicted to sugar cookies. Especially the ones with frosting. YUMMY

I have the oddest predicament. I can not seem to teach my old cat something he has known for years. He is not allowed up on the cabinets, yet recently he insists on jumping up to his hearts content. Personally, it grosses me out.
This morning I caught him again. He decided to take his morning snooze on the food prep area. After I got done getting grossed out I squirted it down with clorox and water mixture. I left it to sit for a while. Went back to wipe it off and there he sat. He sat right on top of it. I shooed him off, gave him a quick little kitty bath and squirted down the counters AGAIN.
I swear in his old age he is getting kitty alzheimers.
Spare me please. I think I might have to get him a shock collar and shock some sense in him. If only his 17 year old heart would take it……

I thought I would repost one of my favorite posts today….looking back

When our daughter was first born she was a healthy child. When she started cutting teeth the easy baby I once knew seemed to turn a corner.
Hula Girl started getting chronic ear infections. We tried antibiotic after antibiotic. Nothing seemed to make it go away.
When she was about 1 1/2 we started noticing that she was not babbling the way other babies did and she was starting to show signs of motor skill problems. We took her took the doctor and demanded that we see a specialist. We had been in the office enough and tried enough medication. I wanted answers. (it had been about a 9 months of trying to get explanations)
We went to the specialist and they said that she was for the most part deaf. It was like she was under 100 feet of water. She could hear the noise but not know what it was saying. I always spoke with her hands on my face so she did talk some but not a lot.
I was devistated. How could this beautiful child be deaf. I being a musician and wanted to share my world of music. I didn’t know how to feel.
At 2 1/2 we decided to go ahead and do the tubes for her ears. We knew that they would have to do some other types of things because of all of the scar tissue that had developed around her ear drum.
Honestly that was one of the longest 40 minutes of my life. After the surgery we were able to go home.
When we got home we went over to the neighbor’s house to let them know that everything went fine and she was ok.
While we were standing there Hula Girl bent down. I said, “What’s wrong honey?” “Mommy what’s that loud?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about honey. I don’t hear anything.” She put her ear on the neighbor’s drainspout and followed it down. At the bottom the water was trickeling out onto a slab of cement. “Oh mommy, water!”
What she had discovered was the sound that water makes when it drips from a drainspout after a rain.
I sat down right there on my neighbor’s porch and cried. What a beautiful thing to take for granted. The sound of rain.