Getting my hair cut and colored today. Brad's rounding and seeing one patient in the office. Here's hoping he gets home before 11. :-/

Don't know why I make these kinds of appointments when he's on call. You would think after 11 years of this I would know better. 

Do you think it would be cruel and invasive to go through the rooms of my 6, 7, and 10 year old (when they aren't around) and bag up all the little junk stuff that clutters it and makes it so hard to keep tidy? I wouldn't pitch the junk stuff for about two weeks. That way, if they came to me moaning and groaning about that tiny little plastic prized possession, I could dig it out. Otherwise, if they don't miss it and none of us have deemed it worthy to be dubbed a keepsake, then why keep it? Any thoughts? 'Cuz I'm on the verge. Trash bags are calling my name. Intervention needed. 

 

This baby of mine l.o.v.e.s "buee". It's bunny with no n. I've never had a child attached to something and have always assumed that Mothers have a role in forcing a thing on a baby, encouraging them to have a  "raging need for it" because it's endearing or something. 

Not true.  Emma has blown that theory right out of the water. I bet I hear, "BUEE!" 8 or 10 times a day. 

We get in the car, "BUEE!"

We are going outside, "BUEE!"

Putting on Peppa Pig, "BUEE!"

Going to bed, "BUEE!"

Poor Bunny is filthy. 

 

 

 

                      

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

  oh! almost forgot....at Brad's office party, they had a photo booth. talk about fun.

 

~stacey

I'm in the grocery store.

I've suffered through the process of grabbing eggs, milk, bread, bananas, chicken, sour cream, cereal, coffee creamer, peanut butter, Pringles, ground beef, noodles, yogurt, and pistachios for Brad's stocking. 

I'm tired of being there. I dread putting it all in the car, putting it all out of the car, putting it all in cabinets and refrigerator, and putting all the plastic bags somewhere. 

Then the question comes. Without fail, just about every clerk does it to me. 

She looks down, almost condescendingly, over the rim of her glasses as she stops the scanning process and asks,

"Do you want your milk in a bag?"

I feel like she should say,

"Ahem. If you have no concern for the environment, if you are so wasteful as to require TWO plastic bags for your TWO gallons of milk that ALREADY have handles on them, then I suppose I will reluctantly put them in bags for you. So, would you like your milk in a bag?"

My response is almost always the same. I keep loading things on the belt, make no eye contact, and respond,

"Nah. It's okay."

Knowing the whole time,

I WANT MY MILK IN A BAG!!! Is that too much to ask? 

So next time, when that question comes around, I plan on looking at the clerk, straight through her glasses, dead in the eyeball and say,

"Yes please." 

 

    

 

 

 Contentment vs. Covetousness Realizing that God has provided everything I need for my present happiness (I Timothy 6:8)

A valuable lesson. Especially this time of year. We've been talking about it and I continually remind myself of this. 

How much stuff is enough?

Someone will always have more than you.

There's always more to get.

It doesn't bring a lick of happiness.

Just because I can afford it, doesn't mean I should afford it.

What's reasonable? Am I being generous to others? Am I teaching my kids delayed gratification?

A wise man once said, "Draw a circle around your wealth. (Determine what you "need " to live at a comfortable level") Then give the rest away."

Otherwise, the more you make, the more you spend. 

A song I love says, "Have what you want but want what you have". 

 

 I got the kids a couple old movies for Christmas and I can't wait. "McClintock" and "Hot Lead and Cold Feet". The Walls are bringing the classics back, baby! 

It's rainy. A perfect first day of Christmas break. I plan to stay in and maybe even in pajamas all day. 

Coffee is ready, kids are in the den waiting to start "The Polar Express". 

Enjoying this moment.

 

~stacey

 

"Let no pleasure tempt thee, no profit allure thee, no ambiton corrupt thee, no example sway thee, no persuasion move thee

to do anything which thou knowest to be evil; so thou shalt live jollily, for a good conscience is a continual Christmas."  - Benjamin Franklin

 

 

      

 ~Abby and Cameron~

 

 

 

"Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it." - Thomas Paine

I just love that quote.

My heart is light and for that I am thankful. 

I can smell Christmas break. Four days.....but whose counting?  

Have a wonderful week!

 

~stacey

 

I don't even know where to start. 

Since Sunday, a week and a half ago, I've lived with this cloud. It's heavy, dark, and suffocatingly thick.

There's been no real reason for it. I'm not hormonal, nothing traumatic has happened-I can't explain it, I'm not typically a depressed person, but this has been very, very real. 

Anxiety, fear, worry, dread, fatigue, not much appetite, and despair have been my constant, unwanted companions. 

 

What if something bad happens?

Mr. _____ died. How is his wife coping with that?

They just found the body of that little girl in a dumpster.

People are actually saying Tim Tebow's kneeling and thanking God for success is offensive. What is this country coming to?

How will I handle being old and alone?

Talk about some "stinkin' thinkin'! I've had a big dose of it.

Before you dial 1-800- JUSTSAYNOTODEPRESSION, know that I'm okay. Promise I'm not jumping off any bridges, or staying in bed all day.

The truth is setting me free.....even as I type. 

At first, I attributed my gloom to the time change and constant cloudy/rainy days. The darkness has been killing me. I've never hated it so much. I've kept doors and every shutter wide open, and just about every light in the house on. I would stay outside every minute I could right up until the sun went down because I felt this tremendous need for physical sunlight. 

Then, over a week's time, Emma, Avery, and I took turns with a little stomach virus. I was tired, so I figured maybe waiting to see who would get it next, and my lack of sleep was making me a little pouty. 

My Grandmother is 102 and drastically going downhill. Maybe I'm already grieving for her, I thought. 

 

I had done all I knew to do.

Thinking happy thoughts.

Singing good songs.

Forcing smiles.

Thanking God for all the good things in my life.

 

That was my part. Not rolling over or giving in to it. Still wasn't finding a resolution, though.

Brad came home night before last, took over dinner, and said, "Go."

"Get in the car, go grab some dinner, and work it out."

I dropped my spoon, grabbed my keys and rushed to my Suburban, hoping to beat the tears. 

"God. I do not know what is wrong with me but something is. You know what it is and I'm tired of it."

I pulled in the CVS parking lot and laid it all out. 

I placed my cares at his feet. I out loud, cast my cares on Him.

Then my heart heard this. The joy of the Lord is your strength.

It's a verse in Nehemiah, it's a song I sang as a child, and it's sort of become cliche'. But the best part? It's TRUE. 

I nodded my head in silent agreement.

I had dumped my heart out, cried my eyes out, then decided I couldn't sit at CVS all night. 

Target. I had a return to do and some shopping that is so much easier without kids. So I dried my eyes, got out, and had the tiniest sense of peace that I hadn't had all week.

I think I even smiled once. 

This morning, I emailed my former pastor, Tom Hall. I think it was a three sentence message asking only for their new mailing address. Though we haven't seen them for years, he influenced my life, officiated my wedding ceremony, and has always held a special place in my heart. He replied with their address then said exactly and only this:

"Blessings and Joy! You live in a redeemed world."

I was stunned.

Even now, I stare at those two sentences dumbfounded. It is nothing short of God breathing a little big Word to me through a man four states away, who had no idea I was in a pit of despair. 

I don't even think I fully understand that. I live in a redeemed world.

But it sure does give me hope and excitement. God is not sitting in heaven wringing His hands about the state of the world. He's not allowing a single thing to happen to me unless He is working good through it. He promises to never leave me or forsake me. He is ruling and reigning and cares enough about me to give me.....let's see, just in the last couple days, I can count four "little" miraculous things that undoubtedly were His whisper of comfort and confidence. 

The God of this universe is able to and even wants to meet me in the middle of my mess.    

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

               

 

 

 

102. Can you imaging being 102 years old?

...The things she has seen...

Born in 1909. 

The roaring 20's. 

The Great Depression.

WWI.

WWII.

Korean War.

Vietnam War. 

She's lived through 19 Presidents. 

She's awakened more than 37,254 mornings. 

She delivered five children. Lost one. Baby June died before she was two. 

She has outlived all her siblings, cousins, three son-in-laws, and nearly all her friends. 

She is a precious lady. I'm grateful to have such a Grandmother.

 

 

 Thanksgiving 2011 was a good one. 

               

 

          

 

 

The whole crew minus Emma. (Baby's got to nap.)  

 

 

                

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And last but not least, a few Christmas card outtakes.

     

 

We're almost done decorating, Christmas cards are ordered, the bulk of my gift buying is done. My goal is to finish that up this week when the kids are at school.

The shopping part is not my favorite but I love stuffing cards and wrapping gifts at night. Saving the best for last.

I think we found a home for the dog. He's at his new family's house for a trial period and things are going well. So, with fingers crossed and hopes that it CONTINUES to go well, Brad is headed to the basement to rid the unfinished part of Easy hair and get things straight down there.

Emma is sleeping, the big girls are at a birthday party, Jake is in his favorite place. Home. He's a man after my own heart. A home body. 

I am going to my closet. For whatever reason, that is THE area. Everything but the kitchen sink gets shoved in there and about four times a year, I have to make a path and re-organize.  

 

Have a marvelous week!

~stacey

 

 

 

~stacey

 

 

Grateful.

Yes I am. 

So very grateful........

 

            

 

For big things and for small things. For some things temporal and some things eternal. Grateful for all of it.

 

I have a husband who, the other day, completely humbled me. Does that ever happen to you? Where you are in awe, even just for a minute, of the person you married?

He felt convicted about something and went to the people involved and apologized. The "something" wasn't that big a deal, but he said he thought about it all day and wanted to set it straight. What a man.

He is upright, humble, honest, loyal, hilarious, affectionate, tender-hearted, and top on my list. He's the guy you would want in your foxhole. -you know what I mean?  

Won't let you down. Will stick it out no matter what. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

I'm grateful for little feet in little shoes who snag my newly embroidered pillow. *sigh* 

 

        

 

 

 

I'm grateful for Legos littering my floor. I bet I'll miss them when they're gone.

 

    

 

 

I'm GRATEFUL for no school for a week!!!

                      

                                           

~Reese writes a paper and I doodle~

~We ALL need this week off. Really~

 

                        

 

I'm grateful that I can go buy groceries without having to carry a calculator. I've been there and could do it again if I had to, but...... yeah, thankful.

(Besides, four kids in a grocery store require both my hands and occasionally a foot. How could I possibly punch numbers durning all that?)

 

 

 

I'm grateful for these four little chickens.

 

They forgive me when I mess up. They tell me when I don't make my bed. They hug me spontaneously.

Avery and I cried watching Kit Kittredge yesterday in the car line at school.

Then we both got tickled at how ridiculous it was that we were crying over that movie.  

     

 

How about you? I would love to know one big thing and one little thing you are grateful for.

 

 

 

~stacey (officially in  holiday, Thanksgiving, eat good food mode. let the feasting and fellowship begin.)

 

 

 

 

These nights where kids are in bed and it's just me and a movie, with Brad still at the hospital, I'm taken back to the days of residency.

We left for the midwest immediately after Brad graduated from medical school.

The MIDWEST.

I'm a southern girl. I had never lived more than four hours away from home.

But there we went. 20 hours away. Jake was a little more than two and I was just pregnant.

Crazy five years. Brad worked A LOT.

A LOT.

Really A LOT.

By the end of our third year there, I had a four year old, almost two year old, and an infant.

Still, Brad working A LOT.

I had adjusted though. Life was simple. No where we HAD to be. Our schedule was whatever I decided it to be. I loved that.

I knew then, I had it good. All my little chickens right under my wing. As worn out as I was, life was not complicated.

I was physically drained most of the time. It was all diapers, Baby Einstein, high chairs, more diapers, blowing bubbles in the back yard, trips to Wal-Mart to pass the time, still more diapers, driving through Taco Bueno when I knew Brad wouldn't be home, and yes.....more diapers.

"Baby Soup" as I've heard it called.  And I was in that crazy season without my parents' immediate support. I missed them so much and will always wish they had been closer in proximity then.

But having no one to bail me out, coddle me when I was tired, or count on every second of the day to be there if I winced, meant I grew as a mother. I got tougher in a good way. I learned to dig down deep. I learned I can do what has to be done. I learned that I can care for sick children even when I myself am sick. I learned how to take one day at a time. Today is ALL I have. Appreciate the small things.

I remember hurting my back so badly once, that I had to actually crawl to be able to get around. It was just a little bit before I really connected and formed some close friendships. There was no one yet that I felt like I could call. Thankfully Reese could semi climb out of her crib. I remember being on the floor with my babies, crawling from one of their rooms to the den, frustrated to the point of tears. I'm sure I had a little pity party right there on my den floor. Partially deserved, though. What was I supposed to do? Grandparents were states away, and Brad didn't have the luxury of calling in sick very often.

I do remember one time he called in. He was on a rotation with a really nice attending physician. I was so ill. Body aches, fever, vomiting, and at least two kids to take care of. I'll never forget that morning, Brad had gotten dressed and looked at me in the bed, shook his head and said, "I can't leave you like this. I'm calling Dr. ______"  I'm sure I was a pitiful sight. I was s.i.c.k.

It's almost funny now. Almost. But not.

My life is definitely a little more "cush" now.

A husband who's home a lot more. Three of four kids can go to the bathroom without my help. Most nights, I get a full night's sleep. Med school debt is starting to go away. (WOOHOO for that) Parents and siblings are just a few hours from here. If I hurt my back today, I could call one of 10 people to throw me a rope.

 

Most of my early residency pictures are good old fashion 35 mm. ~~You know, film?~~

These were taken just before we moved back to the southeast. It was a trip to Wyoming that will probably always rank as one of my top favorite trips. Lots of good memories......

 

 

 ~stacey

 

 

Just felt like reviewing my Wednesday......

Pried myself out of bed at a little too late 7:45. 

Got school going by 8:30. ~Impressive, I think.

My sweet friend, Lisa called. The first thing out of her mouth, after we said our hellos was, "How can I help you today? Come get Emma while you do school? Keep them all while you buy groceries?" 

Wow. And she was the second friend to do that to me this week! Talk about a blessing.

I had to resist my Icanhandleitdontneedanyhelp syndrome and replied, "Yes" and "Thank you"!

Maybe I'm the only one who never knew this, but the Taj Mahal was built by a cruel Indian emporer. He constructed it as a burial place for his beloved wife. Supposedly, he grieved so severely that his hair turned white, and he cried so much, his vision was ruined.  It seems strange that a vicious, power hungry man could mourn two years for his deceased wife, doesn't it?  Thanks to "The Story of the World" history books, I'm learning all kind of random historical tidbits! I'm sure to rock the next game of trivia I play so watch out. 

School was done in record time today. 12:45 and we were done. Don't know how. It may have been a small miracle from heaven. Just God smiling down on me maybe.

The big kids dressed Emma in Jake's Auburn jersey, hat, and had her parading around holding a stuffed Aubie....the greatest mascot in the SEC. She was a cutie and knew it.  

A couple months ago, while grocery shopping, I saw a man stealing food. I followed him around because I was trying to figure out how to either give him some money or buy what he needed. He had picked up a small pack of bologna and a box of crackers. I then saw a lady give him a few dollars. I followed him around the corner, saw him dart down an aisle for no more than 7 seconds, crackers and meat in hand, and watched him reappear with neither item in his hand. He then, of course, quickly left the store. I just stood there dumbfounded. 

Anyway, same guy was in the store today. This time, he came in with a bag and went to the service desk for something. I don't know....it's just sad and intriguing. As my friend, Philip, would say, "It gives me pause". Makes you stop and think.

Here's a guy stealing bologna and crackers. Not beer. Not a magazine. Not cigarettes. Meat and crackers. Brad says stealing is stealing. He could have used the nine dollars that lady gave him and paid for his crackers. But he chose to walk out of the store with his crackers, meat, and a little cash. Like I said. It gives me pause. 

I fried pork chop, and made turnips and corn on the cob for supper. Avery calls it, "cornabacob". She has no idea it's four separate words.

Kuddos to her, though. She gobbled up the turnips! I couldn't believe it.  She was the only one who did besides her Daddy and me.

I paid bills today, which makes me sweat. 

Spontaneously, Jake said, "Mom, I'm thankful we have a nice house. It looks neat. You know, like our counter tops. I like them how they look."

LOL! Oh that boy is sweet and funny. I just hugged him and whole-heartedly agreed, "Yes, baby, it is so nice to have a great house. It's a good thing." Still makes me laugh. Gotta love granite, I guess.

I am about ready to pitch every piece of candy we collected Monday night. Emma only wants Smarties and I'm just about sick of being asked, "Can I have just one tiny piece of candy?". 

Besides, I don't need one more Three Musketeers in my body. Not one. 

Tomorrow is THURSDAY, which is about as good as Friday! 

 

 

 

Can you imagine?!!!

 

 

~stacey

I'm not a tooth puller. Hard to believe, I know. As the mother of four, you would think I would have been forced to pull at least one tooth by now, right?

The idea of causing physical discomfort to another person makes me nauseous. Literally.

ANYWAY.....the tooth thing. Night before last, my number was up. Reese had been moaning and groaning all evening about this tooth that was about to fall out. I kept telling her to pull it like she has before, but she would have nothing of it. I finally got fed up with it and the teeniest bit frustrated said,

"Reese! Come here!" 

Reese trudges slowly down the stairs....still moaning. "Mama, please don't pull it, it'll hurt! Are you going to pull it? I don't want you to pull it. Are you going to pull it?" 

"Reese! I don't pull teeth! I can't stand it. I'm just going to feel it to see if it's really ready. We'll let Daddy pull it! Just come here!"

Put my paper towel covered fingers around the tooth to honestly, just give it a wiggle, and out it came. 

I don't know who was more surprised. 

I think little girls in this house have lost a combined three teeth in the last week or two.

Poor tooth fairy is getting low on cash....or so I hear.

 

this was three years ago

time flies

and i'm not sure how i feel about that

 

 

~stacey