Siblings

Anyone with more than one child, or has siblings themselves, know the rivalry that can go on.  The teasing, punching, hair-pulling, throw a dog on top of you rivalry.  At times I feel that I am an expert in this field.  I was teased non-stop by my brothers.  I would be punched by simply walking by one of them.  And yes, the family dog was thrown on top of me as we were sleigh riding down our snow covered hill.  Feel the love, don’t you?

I grew up in a houseful of boys.  The oldest of the boys was to busy (and older)to really get into the complete aspect of the sibling abuse.  The other two however, were complete authorities on the matter.  As much as they would mistreat me I still treasured the moments they would include me in on their activities.  For example, the year my brother completed his Mic-o-Say initiation with the Boy Scouts and decided to initiate me when he returned home.  Or when they decided to play a new game that they had made up, but much to my dismay it was to throw a ball as hard as you could to the youngest person in the room.  Can you guess who that was?

But in all that torment there was love.  It wasn’t (or isn’t) always shown but I know its there.  I had no doubt in my mind that they would come to bat for me.  The day one brother ran a friend out of our house because he was being disrespectful to me.  Or when I had my heartbroken and my brother could tell my hurt and asked if I wanted the guy’s a** kicked.  The day Craig found out he was being laid off and my brother said, “Whatever you need, just ask.”

I see this same situation with my own children.  “Mom, her feet are on me.”  “Mom, Dalton just shot me with his Nerf gun.”  “Mom, Megan just kicked me in my privates.”  You get my picture.  But then comes the love.  The days when Megan misses Dalton because he is at a friend’s house.  The day Megan had to go to the emergency room and Dalton refused to leave her side.  Dalton is her protector and Megan would do anything for him. 

As a parent now I have to remember that where there is bickering there is also love.  The days where I threaten to lock them in the basement (or today when I threaten to handcuff them together for the rest of the day) because of their constant bickering, I find that all I can do is pray for God to give me patience.  And with that patience He then usually throws in the love.  And then that’s when I find them together and playing nicely.  But watch out….it doesn’t last long.

Life Happens

I am a people person, which is probably why much to my husband’s dismay I love reality shows.  I have said before that I love to talk with people.  I love social gatherings.  I love being around friends and family.  There are some very wonderful people out there that I consider my friends.  I miss them.  I say this because like so many things, life happens and time flies by. 

It happens all the time.  You become friends with someone, hang out ALL the time, and find out interesting stuff.   We all have GREAT memories of our friends.  I can look back and think about a time that I spent with a friend and smiled.  And the next second wonder where they are now.  Where did they go?  There are some friends that I have just recently lost contact with.  Not because of a disagreement, not because they moved, because life happened.  It just became too hard to meet up with them when we all had busy schedules. 

I have also come to realize that I really miss these people.  I miss the talks on the elementary school playground and cruisin’ Main Street honking our horns at everyone that passes.  I miss leaving the dorm at Midnight for a run to the border because Maryville did not have a Taco Bell.  I miss the conversations at my house during poker games and the after softball game ‘Cookout at the Trussell’s’.  The inside jokes, the stories, the memories. 

To all my friends:  I still think of you and smile at our memories.  I laugh out loud at a few of them and even blush at some of them too (then say a prayer and ask for forgiveness).  Thank you for being my friend!

All I Can Do Is Pray

Worry.  According to the New World Dictionary the word  ‘worry’ means, a troubled state of mind; anxiety; distress; care; uneasiness.  However, I would like to add some physical attributes to this definition such as nausea; heart palpitation; perspiration; walking in circles.  Insert picture of me.

I tend to worry.  I worry over insignificant things.  I worry over potential obstacles.  I worry about others.  I worry about things I have no control over.    

I am not willing (or cannot) to make public about situations and/or obstacles that may be happening in my little world.  But tonight I came to the realization that something I had feared is actually a reality.  I have no control over it.  Here it comes…Worry.  Fear. 

When I worry, I pray.  Because recently I have realized that I have to give it up.  I have to give it up to God.  I give Him my worry, my fear.  God states, “Do not fear” in the Bible over 300 times.  I must trust in Him.  I read Philippians 4:6-7 and feel comfort.  I read Mark 10:27 and know there is hope.  I ask a favor of my friends tonight:  please leave me your favorite “comfort” scripture.  So tonight when I can do nothing else, I can read through those and then PRAY. 

The Green Family Reunion

THE GREEN FAMILY REUNION

Today we traveled to Lathrop, MO for a family reunion.  The reunion was for Craig’s side of the family on his mother’s side.  Now, I am always a family person.  I love the social aspect of family gatherings.  I LIKE talking to people.  There are years, however, when I would rather spend my Sunday afternoon relaxing on my couch and not in a shelter house at a local park.  As with any family reunion there is always an amount of dread. 

“Do we really have to go?”   

“I don’t know any of these people.”   

“How long do we have to stay?”

This is why we go:

Craig’s mom passed away from cancer when he was 19 years old.  Her name was Shirley.  Shirley has only one other sibling, Gerald.  Uncle Gerald is Craig’s only connection left with his mom’s side of the family. 

There are periods during the year, to say the least, that are rough for Craig.  His mother’s birthday.  Memorial Day.  His parent’s anniversary (which just happens to be his Dad’s birthday).  These are the days that I have to put my ‘make everything better’ attitude away and leave him be.  No matter how much he tries to put on a brave face, I see it.  I see the pain.  I see the absence.  I see the ‘I just wish my mom was here’. 

I will tell you I never met Shirley.  I never had the privilege.  Nevertheless I know a lot about this lady.  I know what she did for a living, where she grew up, that lavendar and purple are her favorite colors.  The typical inforamtion.  But I also know the intimate stuff.   I know that Shirley and Craig would spend hours watching Elvis movie marathon (which has now become Craig and the kid's tradition).  I know that Shirley attended every one of Craig’s school events and sporting activities except for one due to chemotherapy session.  I even know who Shirley’s best friends are and that to this day, Craig is still in contact with them.  I also know that from the first day I met Craig he has talked about his mother.  And I feel that this helps keeps him close to her. 

She may not be here physically but I can tell you she is here spiritually.  She was here on our wedding day when the torrential rainfall came but magically stopped every time Craig and I would step outside.  She was here the day the kids were born and family would tell Craig, “Your mom would have spoiled them rotten.”  When Craig’s uncle (her brother) was laying in a hospital bed after suffering a stroke.  Craig walked into his hospital room and he opened his eyes and said, “Hi Craig.”  She was there.  Her presence is strong.

I will be the first to tell you that I can by no means quote scripture.  I cannot tell you where a particular verse is or sometimes the meaning behind it.  But I do know that God is present in our everyday lives.  He provides us answers, knowledge, and His wisdom when we need it.  God knows when we need uplifting.  God knows when Craig needs his mother.  And He provides that to him.

So, when his family calls and would like to visit.  We go.  We go because family is important.  We go because it is Craig’s tie to his mom.  We go because God knows Craig needs his mom.  God is giving us that connection to our family.  We just need to listen.

Here it goes...

Here it goes…

The last few weeks I have contemplated on starting a journal, diary, and/or blog. I know, I know…everyone has a blog. I thought the same thing. How can I write a blog when people I know are starting one everyday? Will they think I am copying them? Will it come off as stupid? Will anyone actually read it?

As I sit here in the middle of the night I realized something. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because lately, I have had constant thoughts swirling inside my head. So…maybe, just maybe, if I jot down some of those thoughts it would help me sleep.

As with any first time blog I will give you a little background information. I am a 36 years old. I have been married to my husband, Craig, for the last 11 years. We have two children, Dalton and Megan. I work full-time as well as part-time. In other words, I have two jobs. All of these will at some point or another will be the focus of my blog.

I imagine my blog will be a little bit of everything from my life. You will find out that it probably will center a lot on children, and not necessarily mine. There may be times when I talk about my marriage, my job, my new spiritual findings, or just random thoughts or frustrations. My hope is that, if nothing else, someone can relate to my entries and we can connect with each other. I have a friend who VERY recently started a blog that said, “So please, bare with me. Please don't think I'm an attention-whore. This is how I express myself.” (Maggie, I hope you don’t mind me quoting you!) My choice is not to get attention, its not to force my opinion onto anyone, it simply is to express myself.

Now on to the name…

Upon sitting down and trying to think of a name for my blog I became stumped. Then I started thinking about things that I do or things I say that would spark my imagination. Then it came to me. Every night I get the honorable privilege of taking my kids to bed. They climb in bed; I tuck them in, kiss them, and then say, “Goodnight PudPop! I love you!” ( In case your wondering, PudPop is short for Pudding Pop.) What better way to finish a day than to write down my thoughts, kiss them goodnight, and send them off with a “Goodnight PudPop.” I hope you enjoy!