It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Oh it’s Christmas time!  I LOVE LOVE LOVE Christmas time.  I love everything about Christmas time. I love buying and giving gifts, far more than I like to receive them, and no one , not one bah humbug spoils my mood at Christmas.  LOVE IT. 

Before I lost the majority of my hearing, my tradition was to put the tree up the day after Thanksgiving, with Kenny & Dolly’s Christmas cassette playing in the tape player.  (Stop laughing, LOVE KENNY AND DOLLY and miss cassette players too by the way).  I would sing right along with them, sure that I could sing as well, if not better, than Dolly.  My hearing has gone and so Christmas music is somewhat a thing of the past for me, but once Thanksgiving is over the Christmas spirit drops on me and it is time to decorate, bake, and carols still sing in my head.  And yes, sometimes I answer back to them, but that is another blog.

When I put up the tree now, I think of Christmases past.  I remember as a child putting the tree up after Abbotsford Elementary School’s annual Christmas program.  Back when the Christmas program was still called the Christmas program and the program still consisted of messages of Christmas’ true meaning.  There was no need for car magnets that said “Keep Christ in Christmas”, it was common knowledge that was what Christmas truly was all about and no one disputed that fact. Oh those were the days.  We would come home from the play and get undressed out of our costumes and have Christmas cookies, hot chocolate sometimes and decorate the wonderful real tree my dad had picked out for us.  I don’t recall actually picking out a Christmas tree, I’m not sure if we were taken along.  If we were, I am sad I don’t remember it but something tells me that it may be the fault of the wannabe cowgirl who was highly accident prone that deterred Rodeo dad from dragging all five children along to pick out the best most beautiful tree ever for each particular year.  But we had GREAT trees each and every year. I remember mom bringing down the HUGE box and various ice cream buckets of Christmas ornaments.  Popsicle Rudolphs, the glitter Jet dishwasher container that left your glasses sparkling clean and spot free (so the advertisement promised anyway), and all the other ornaments we made at school and Sunday School.  I remember the FAT silver garland that went around the tree, they don’t’ make garland like they used to, let me tell you and the large bright Christmas tree bulbs. That garland though man, it was ten times the width of the thin strings of garland that don the shelves of Walmart now.  It was beautiful.  And the grand finale was dad putting the star on top of the tree and turning on the lights.  Great times. 

On Christmas eve we would either go and perform in the church’s annual children’s program or on alternate years head to Grandma’s house for a Christmas celebration that beat all others.  I remember one year my cousin Todd (may he be resting in peace now) reading the Christmas story first and then Twas the Night before Christmas.  Nothing beats spending the season with family.  LOVED IT.

15 years ago Christmas’ changed for me forever in the best possible way.  David was due December 19^th, 1996. I had finished up my first semester at college, taken my finals early and headed home to Mom’s to await his highly anticipated birth.  December 19^th came and went, then the 20^th, the 21^st, and so on.  Christmas Eve came and there I was sitting, a big as a house, uncomfortable, crabby and so frustrated that labor had not started and I really didn’t want to have a Christmas baby.  Did not want to go into labor on Christmas day but if it was to be by then, I would welcome it.  We all gathered into the suburban and headed to the Christmas eve service at church.  Of course by that time, you hear all the usual, “No baby yet??” “well when is that baby going to come out”.  Never in a million years did I think I would hear the mother of all comments to make to a pregnant woman almost a week past her due date who just really was tired of walking around with a beach ball the size of Texas in her stomach.  Yes, a woman came up to me at church that evening and blurted out “What are you having a BABY ELEPHANT?”  Yes, I was A. that BIG, and B. Yes, I burst into tears.  Worst of all, of all the people in the world to overhear this comment (that might have been funny any other day of the year and I can kind of laugh at it now…kind of) was Jay, my little brother who lived and still does live to find ways to laugh at me.  Oh how he tormented me all night long.  Christmas came and went and there I was still pregnant.  Already this little child was showing me how stubborn he could be and things would happen in due time when he was ready, he is not a child to be rushed into anything even now. 

On December 26^th, my sister, who was going to be my coach in the delivery room headed for home in Minnesota, nothing was happening.  I thought maybe I was never going to have this baby, but around 7:00 or so I started feeling odd.  Was I in labor?  I didn’t know.  I mentioned to my mom that I was feeling funny. She of course went into mom mode and started asking me all kinds of questions and I said, uhm, I think I’ll go to my friend Deb’s for coffee.  I had given up on ever going into labor by that time so I didn’t really think it was happening.  I went to Deb’s had a cup of coffee, visited and said, hmmm, I think I better go back to mom’s, I might be starting labor.  Back to mom’s I went and called my sister who had just arrived home from the long drive and asked her to get back in her car and come back.  My poor sister, not only was it Christmas with her family possibly but it was COLD out and she had a brand new 6 month old baby herself.  Two and a half hours later she arrived at mom’s and we headed to the hospital.  Yes, I was in fact in labor.  PRAISE THE LORD, it wasn’t a tumor after all, I really did have a baby growing inside of me.

My pregnancy went well all nine months, and back then, my doctor did not do ultra sounds unless a problem was signaled.  I kept asking over and over if I was having twins.  I was THAT big.  (Baby elephant) But he assured me no, no you are having one baby and yes this baby will fit.  I kept telling him that I didn’t think he/she would fit either and he assured me that would not be a problem.  HA, little did he know. 

Well, the hours came and went and labor pains and contractions grew stronger and more painful and it seemed my room kept filling with STUDENTS who were there to practice ON ME.  I remember one student doctor trying to break my water because it had not broken yet….I heard him say as he is jabbing me with a large crochet hook, well I am poking something.  That was it, YOU ARE POKING ME YOU IDIOT NOW GET AWAY FROM ME”.  I had had enough. I wanted a REAL DOCTOR, someone seasoned, someone who didn’t need to practice anymore, I wanted MY DOCTOR.  Back then, you also had the doctor who was on shift for the day as the one who delivered your baby.  And I believe I went through at least three doctors, and did see my own doctor at one point in there, but he was not the doctor who delivered my baby.  He was one of the middle doctors.  About 28 hours later many of hard labor it became apparent to them that things were not progressing smoothly or as they should have.  No, I was not impressed either with their lack of attention to the fact that about 15 hours earlier I might have mentioned that but, I’m not a doctor so no one would listen to me. Finally it was decided I needed an emergency c-section. I was exhausted from labor but also from yelling at the doctors I’m sure and I had had enough of the irritation that came from one person involved watching a Badgers Game during this time.  I won’t go into that…it would be a waste of time. Oh the lessons we learn in life….

Anyway, off to the surgery room we went when it dawned on me that a person I went to high school with, Bryan L. worked in the OB department of the hospital and assisted with c-sections.  WAIT A MINUTE.  I grabbed my sister and said PLEASE tell me he is not in there today!!!!  You only want to get so close to some people you went to H.S. with.  I had nothing against him but really….I have my limits, yes even I have my limits on what I will expose to others that I know.  Believe it or not.

Not long afterwards, David was born. And as I suspected many months prior, he just plainly WOULD NOT FIT. The first thing my sister said to me when she saw him was “LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HIS BIG TOE!!”  Words I will never forget as long as I live.  Really….after all that, THAT is what she had to say?  David came out 10lbs 22 inches long.  I REALLY DID HAVE A BABY ELEPHANT.  He was adorable and so it began,  my life and Christmases from then on were forever changed, and I had been blessed with an amazing Christmas gift a little late. And the doctors said to my sister “In the olden days, neither of them would have survived.  No, I never can do anything the easy way…always have to take the long road, the hard road, but man, I appreciate everything so much more I think that way.

Well now, when I sat down to write this blog, it was supposed to be about the first Christmas tree David and I had the year following his birth, see how it happens that I get on tangents and forget my message I want to pass along…. But I think I will save that for my next blog. 

As you go about the business the seasons brings, the shopping, the gift wrapping, take a moment to stop and remember Christmases past spent with family members who may no longer be with you, childhood memories. I’m sure we all have a “best Christmas” ever in our years on this Earth.  What is yours?  Take the time to just sit back with a cup of hot cocoa and think back to that time and smile.

Have a great day everyone! 

A Thanksgiving To Be Thankful For! Praise God

It’s been awhile since I have felt inspired to post a blog.  Very little has happened in the way of humor, but that doesn’t mean things have not been going well in life.

It is Thanksgiving morning and boy, I don’t think I could feel more thankful if I tried this year. 

Two weeks ago I was blessed enough to be able to sit down with the Elder’s of Waushara Community Church and share with them my testimony of becoming a true believer in God.  It was a very humbling experience.  We don’t take enough time to sit down and look through the paths of our lives to see where God has worked in our lives proving to us over and over again His promise from Jeremiah ….”I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, they are plans for good and not disaster….”.  If I am being honest, I didn’t do much preparation for my testimony, in fact I tried not to think about it much before I had to go. (I spent my day in the knitting store making a scarf so I wouldn’t think about it).  Speaking in front of people is not always my strong point, I get nervous and tongue tied and my voice starts to crack and do funny things.  I took a public speaking course in college and it was nothing short of pure torture for me.  My first speech I gave in class, I worked tirelessly on. I practiced in front of not only my professor but my neighbors as well.  It was the right length of 3-5 minutes and I thought I was ready.  Until about 25 minutes before I had to give that speech.  I was physically sick with nerves and threw up.  I threw up before every speech I had to give that semester.  How could I be so nervous…I was going in front of a bunch of teenagers practically and I was much older than them, but nervous I was. My 3-5 minute speech ended up being about 38 seconds. I rattled through that so fast I wonder if they even heard my speech.  And the “peer evaluator” of my speech said that he thought I started to cry up there. I did not start to cry, but my voice did weird things.  I was embarrassed but oh well, they would forget, until I had to give my next speech, then they would remember and the cycle began for the 3 long months.

So I chose not to really “plan” any kind of speech and decided I would just go into that room and speak from the heart.  There were three areas that I needed to cover  1, Where I came from, my history with my faith, 2, When I became a true Christian and 3, How I knew that I believed in God now.  

As I spoke, God was showing me how many times throughout my life, especially those years between 18-30 something that He was trying to get my attention, and how many times I ignored him. I thought I was in control of my life and that I could make my own decisions without any guidance from Him or anyone else for that matter, which turned out to be me, taking the long way home at every curve in the road.

I can say now that I am home, and every one of those attention getting lessons God placed on my journey were leading me right here.  When I say I traveled down a broken road to today, that is no exaggeration, but that broken road has taught me much about life and has shown me that while I always knew I believed IN God, I don’t think I ever BELIEVED God.  

Every choice I have made in life has come with its own set of consequences and I not only hurt myself along the way but I hurt plenty of family members and friends. All who have forgiven me and still love me and most importantly with a God standing beside me saying, I’ll walk with you, but you need to also walk with ME!  Looking through my history, it was so humbling to see that God never left  me, He kept sending me His whispers and at times hit me over the head with a two by four trying to get my attention.  He knew, that I would one day turn and look up to Him and say, “Lord, my life belongs to you, not to me, my children belong to You, not to me, my marriage is for glorifying You, not to make my husband or me happy, that is just a byproduct of living to praise You”. I never once did anything in my life to deserve for God to continue to love me, to continue to bless me and give me hard lessons in order that I may one day see His greatness.  I gave Him every reason to wash His hands of me, to say, “Rebecca, You are not worth it”.  But He continued to love me.  He loves ME.  It’s that undeserved love that  has saved me over and over again in life from destruction, death, and a hardened heart never to return to the Word of God.  

God has placed friends in my life who have stood by me through the test of times.  They have never turned their backs on me and most importantly when I wanted to throw in the towel, give up on me, my family, my kids and God, they stood me up and pointed me in the direction I needed to go and kept handing me at the right times, the words of God’s promises.  

A year and a half ago, I was ready to be done. Many of you know the hardships I have endured over the past year and that it was only through a Sovereign God’s undeserved love that I went from waking up in the morning wishing I hadn’t, feeling too weak to face the turmoil of the day to now, when I wake up every morning with hope, joy in my heart and a thankfulness for just one more day to get it right, one more day for my son to come home to visit and one more day to tell my children, “Out of all the boys in the world, I don’t know how I got the best two, but I thank God for making me your mom!”.  

My son’s both have played such a major role in my life and both at very different times.  They truly are a gift from God. 

 David came to me at a time in life when I was going nowhere fast.  When I became pregnant with David, I had some hard choices to make and just to be clear, abortion was NEVER ONE OF THEM.  My choices were, do I stay in this life I have been living the past 8 or so years or do I take the hard steps to be able to give HIM a life.  I was not going to be the single mom who was sitting on welfare and popping out more and more kids.  That’s when I took the first step to changing my life around, moving to Ripon, entering college and working tremendously hard to give my first born son a promising future.  I do not deserve a pat on the back for that, while I am proud of my accomplishments, it was only through Christ that I was able to do any of this, and yet, I still wasn’t giving Him what He wanted.  I wasn’t giving Him all of me.  Thank you Lord for sending me David, who without knowing, gave me the strength and the courage to change my life and to teach me what true love, unconditional love really is.  David was not born into this world with a job, David was born into this world to give me a job, a meaningful and the most rewarding job I could ever have.

The plan in life was for David to be my only child.  I didn’t believe I ever wanted another child, but I believe God, seeing into my future, and knowing what I would go through the past year and a half would need another child and so five years ago, God changed my heart and I looked forward to bringing my little Lane into the world.  It was because of Lane I was able to get out of bed a year and a half ago with a smile, a fake smile, but a smile nonetheless.  He made me laugh, he made me feel like I was doing something right and not a total failure.  Lane was not born into this world with a job, Lane was born into this world so I remembered what my job was. 

Only a   loving and forgiving God could have planned these two perfectly timed boys to come into my life. And they are two boys that I didn’t deserve, but God loved me enough to bless me with that gift of motherhood.  

I deserve nothing from God, nothing good, yet He loves me.  I wish I had a story that said, I don’t know  when I didn’t believe God.  There is no defining moment in my life where I knew that I was God’s child and He was here with me today and always, but that’s not my story.  My story is riddled with sin, my story is riddled with destructive behavior, my story is riddled with terrible choices, addiction and pain brought upon me only by myself.  But with those things my story also has a wonderfully happy turn in it. It’s not a happy ending, my life is not over and my life is not easy now by any means.  But when I walk with God, the tasks at hand are much easier to bear.  The disease that has my world spinning 100 miles an hour on random days and new symptoms that are rearing their ugly head daily are much easier to bear when God is wrapping his arms around me.  When you see me, you may not know that I have an illness, because it’s when I am hidden away in my home for only those closest to me to see me in that vulnerable state.  They see me cry and get angry but they see me also with a knowledge that while this is horrible, God is sitting here next to me and He is not going to leave me now or ever when times get tough.  And on the days that I feel good, I hope that all see me as a beacon of God’s wonderful miracles and promises.  

I watch in wonder how God uses us in our life to change other lives.  My son, David, recently changed a man’s heart and life without even knowing it.  This man was ready to give up on God, he had been praying for answers and finding none. He was asked to pray for David, whom I had not seen him in a very long time, and I had asked that people pray for him to come back to me, where he belonged.  Months later, David called and asked if he could come home, out of the blue, just when I thought I was giving up on him every coming home.  One of the proudest moments of my life was walking into church that Sunday morning with him beside me.  This man saw my son walk in and while his intentions, unknown to the rest of us that day, were to never come back to the church, to give up on his faith, seeing David changed his heart and showed him that God is still listening and answering our prayers.  We need to be patient and remember that it is not always on our timeline.  We just need to trust, love and believe Him.  He will never fail any one of us if we chose to allow Him to work in our lives.  

I pray that God will use me one day to change a life like that.  He uses the broken, the cracked pots, and I don’t think there is any more cracked than I am. I hope and pray that one day I will have changed a life like my hero, David did that Sunday morning.  I shared that story with David last night and he said, “I want to meet this man”.  I hope that he has the opportunity to meet him one day.  He may just have saved his life, just as he had saved mine so many years ago.  

So on this Thanksgiving Day, I will be thanking God for all He has done in my life and blessed me with.  That sitting around the dinner table today my husband, and BOTH MY CHILDREN will be with me and I will look around and be able to smile and say Amen Lord, Amen.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

Rodeo Dad

My parents are amazing.  If I can ever say that I got lucky anywhere, it’s with whom God chose to be my parents. I believe that, even at my lowest point in life, my dad still saw my potential.  I think from day one, he believed I was going somewhere, or at least was going to be heard if I had something to say.  However, I think even my dad might have seen my limits when I was just a little thing.

When I was little, I wanted to be a cowgirl.  I wanted to be a REAL LIVE COWGIRL. I made sure everyone knew it.  Even my dentist knew I wanted to be a cowgirl. At one appointment, he offered me a whole cow girl suit if I would go live with him.  When we got to the car, I told my mom, “I just want you to know, when he told me I could have a cowgirl suit, I almost went with him."  I think, I was probably five or so at the time and looking back, it’s kind of creepy when your dentist offers you a cowgirl suit if you will go and live with him isn’t it? 

At any rate,  I was going to be a cowgirl. I even had a shirt. My favorite shirt, it was white with pearl snaps and pockets with blue ribbing.  It was beautiful, and it made me feel like I was a real cowgirl. 

Ya see, I once saw, somewhere, I don’t know where, a rodeo and I watched in amazement, the bull riders.  Yes, you guessed it, I wanted to be not just a cowgirl, but I wanted to be a bull rider. Then the little children that would come busting out of the gate on a sheep, a bucking bronco sheep and they were timed to see how long they could stay on, I asked my dad right then, can I be in the rodeo and ride the sheep?  My dad replied, “yes, when you are seven, you can be in the rodeo”. 

 I’m sure he was hoping in the next few years I would give up on my obsession and move on to something like Barbie dolls, but I did not. I wanted to be in the rodeo.  I still want to be in the rodeo.  My seventh birthday came and went, my  eighth birthday came and went, my ninth birthday came and went, and my....well my last birthday....came and went....  I never got to be the rodeo. I was a little heartbroken. My dream was shattered and the older I got, the more I realized I was NEVER going to be in the rodeo. Forever destined to be just a Rodeo Dreamer.  I blamed my dad, and I never let him forget the promise he made to let me be in the rodeo when I turned 7 and ride the sheep. 

 I thought for sure I was going to be the first woman in the Rodeo Bull Riding Hall of Fame.  But nope, instead, there was no rodeo. There was never going to be a rodeo. There never will be a rodeo for this girl. 

After having several years to really reflect on that dream that went unfilled, maybe my dad knew something I did not realize yet.  He saw something in me that kept him from following through on that promise, and there was no way he was going to be able to convince my young mind that he knew what was best for me. In fact, it just dawned on me in the last week or so what he knew that I did not.  I’m not safe standing in an empty room, let alone on the back of a 2000  pound bull.

My old memory does not go back much further than these early memories. I wonder when it was he saw what he was really dealing with here.  He probably saw something long before I was swinging on a metal swing set (ya know the ones the ones that are outlawed now for safety reasons) and it tipped over and fell on my head.  I’m sure hundreds of children swung on that swing set, but it was when I got on it, that it fell over and landed on my head and a nurse had to be rushed to our camp site to stop the bleeding

I'm sure it was before the day playing on a hay wagon at my grandparent's house with all my cousins, and I fell off and a stick stabbed me in the center, just above my forehead.  No one else fell off, no one else was impaled by a stick, and again they had to find something to stop the bleeding. My uncle ushering  my mother out of the room so she wouldn't faint after seeing blood pouring down my face. 

When did he really realize his daughter was a walking disaster and it probably was not going to get much better as time went on?

Long before I was the catcher for the little league summer girls’ softball team that I played the position of catcher. Now, in my defense,  I had watched all the other basemen clean off the base from the dirt every now and then and decided to clean off home plate. I bent down to pick it up like they had only to realize home plate is bolted to the ground.  Did that stop me?  No, I was going to clean home plate and yes, the game had to be delayed.  

Definitely long before the weekend he took us all up to Michigan to Powder Horn Mountain downhill skiing. One might ask my dad did you take her skiing that weekend?  Maybe he thought I had overcome my obstacles by then.   He paid for us to have a ski instructor teach us what we were doing before just letting us climb to the top of a hill and wing it.  That guy was a great instructor too! On the bunny hill I wasn’t just too bad of a skier even.  I went up that tow rope like a pro in no time and snow plowed down, slowly, carefully, and without falling.  If grades were given, I would have gotten an A+ on the bunny hill and then, the instructor said, “we are moving on to the next hill."  

To which I replied, “I’m quite comfortable here thanks, I think I’ll stay."

 It was not going to be heard of.  He was being paid to teach me to ski and he was going to follow through on that. So to the next hill we went. Chair lifts.  We both get on with no problems, but I don’t recall him ever telling me how exactly to get off the chair lift as we were going up. I do remember looking a long way down and it was probably the first time I realized I was afraid of heights.  We got to the top and the instructor got off the chair lift and I did nothing. I did nothing but cling for dear life to the side rail as the chair took me down to the bottom, crying like a fool scared to death. Now, I see my dad going up the other way (I don’t know that I really remember this correctly or not, but most likely) just bowing his head in shame.  I got off at the bottom of that chair lift so happy to be alive planning to just go back to the bunny hill and snow plow my way through the remainder of the day with as little adventure as possible. My plans were soon dashed as one of the men who had come with our group happened to be the chief of police of my home town. He said I was going back up that chair lift and being raised to respect authority, I wasn't telling him no. I was scared to go up the chair lift but more scared to say no to the chief of police. Back in line I was ushered and we both got on the chair and up we went again. As we went up he explained that when we get to the top, and I feel my skis on ground, I was to stand up.  The minute he saw I was not about to stand up he grabbed my arm and yanked me off the chair. I, of course, fell down.  Falling down with heavy clothing, big boots and skis is quite cumbersome and it took me awhile to figure out how to get up again. Just when I was about half way to standing, the next chair in line came to the top and hit me and knocked me back down.  I had to crawl to safety, CRAWL TO SAFETY before the next chair came and hit me again. No one wanted to say they were with me after watching me trying to crawl with all that ski garb on.  I do nothing gracefully.

My dad knew....he just knew....the rodeo could not be my future.

I can’t imagine the turmoil he went through when I turned 16 and was going to get my driver’s license.  I do believe this is the one and only time in my life, my dad wanted me to fail.  He wanted me to fail so badly that he made me take a suburban to the City Hall to take my driver’s test the morning of a blizzard, when there was a perfectly good station wagon, and an even better Monte Carlo in the driveway. I knew he wanted me to fail and well, I. DID. NOT. FAIL.  I passed that test with flying colors and I was proud.  But, I never got to drive the suburban again, I got to drive, the station wagon. I must say, even back in the 80’s it was not cool to drive a station wagon.  But I now know, dad knew there was a trait in me that would not make the rodeo a feasible dream to pursue.

 Like, for example, (and I’m not saying this happened or anything), but if by chance I was running late for work one morning at the part time job I had at the hair salon, and forgot to shut the front door to the house, he knew that IF I forgot to put the SUBURBAN into park as I pulled back up to the house to shut the front door, it would have done a lot more damage to the garage had I say been driving the station wagon.  He knew, there may have been a little more damage to the stuff inside the garage, if say, (and I’m not saying this happened or anything) I tried to stop the suburban by grabbing onto the trailer hitch instead of running to jump into the driver’s seat and stop the car. It would have been more than a curled up crinkled garage door, and whatever else was behind that door, IF that were to happen. 

 My dad is a  man who could see all possibilities of things that could happen. So, if I were given certain opportunities to follow my dreams of being the first female bull rider ever to be in the Rodeo Hall of Fame. He knew I would fail and he knew I might not live to be crushed by that failure.

Sadly, for my dad, it took me far too long to realize father really does know best.

If  only I had realized all this before I got my revenge and had him named FHA (Future Homemakers of America) Dad of the year. 

The end of the year banquet when parents and members sat down and watched as their children were presented with certain awards received through out the year. The President of the high school FHA club stood and said, “We would now like to recognize some very important people that have supported our organization, our FHA Dad’s.  Would you please stand as I call your name, Jim Smith”…… pause……. “Let’s give him a round of applause”. 

 My poor dad.

 I’m so sorry about that. Really I am so sorry about that. As all of us senior girls at the head table started to snicker and then could not contain our laughter any longer. Seeing all the other dad’s looking at each other thankful they were never asked to be FHA dads by their daughters.  It takes a pretty amazing dad to say yes I will without hesitation when his little girl comes home and asks him if he would be an FHA dad.  I, maybe,  did not know there would be no other dad’s asked to be an FHA dad. Dad, you were the best FHA DAD EVER, even if you were the ONLY FHA dad to ever exist in the history of man. 

So here’s to my dad, for seeing in me what he saw, that I was going to go places in life and he was going to support me. My dad who also had a great burden to bear being my dad.  He endured the burden of getting me to adulthood alive.

 I can’t imagine how many nights he prayed to God for the strength and the will to keep doing it, all the while listening to me say, “remember when I could have been in the rodeo dad?” and him thinking to himself, “someday you will understand”. 

If you are lucky enough to have your parents still in your life, give them a call and thank them for all they went through to raise you.  I’m sure, probably not as hard of a job as my parents did raising me, or maybe, (If so, let’s get together and swap stories, in an empty, padded room).  Give them a call. As a parent, I miss hearing from my son who moved away from home.  And I would do anything to feel his arms wrapped around me in a hug, and I long for the day, he says, “Mom, I get it, thanks for loving me through it all."

Thank you Lord for giving me parents who not only wanted to see me succeed in life, but also had the strength to make sure I knew what it was I was going to succeed in and steer me from the things that were just too plain dangerous for a girl like me to try. Thank You, Lord, for their prayers every night now when I think they pray, please Lord, let her get through another day without starting herself on fire, without getting arrested for trying to steal a rooster from someone, and somehow her being able to not pass that along to her children.”  While I pray every night, Lord, thank You for getting me through another day, allowing me to laugh, to face adversity with, I hope strength and faith in You. Thank you for your unending grace and thank You for my mom and thank You for my Rodeo Dad.

Maybe the Floppy Hat Isn't Really All That

I love hats.  LOVE HATS.  Most days, especially in the summer, you will see me wearing a baseball cap of one color or another.   So, I get this rewards card in the mail for JCPenney and I have a free, FREE 20.00 to spend at their store.  Well, yeah, it’s not free considering the interest I pay on the JCPenney Card that is in my purse, however, I never refuse to take advantage of these great coupons they send me.  I immediately saw what I had wanted forever, A FLOPPY HAT! It was beautiful, just this beautiful brown floppy hat that went with just about everything.  I got that hat and just waited for an occasion to wear it. 

As soon as Dave saw the hat, he said, I won’t sit by you if you wear that to church.  “REALLY?  This is an awesome hat, I could pull it off”, I said.  When I showed my friend Elizabeth my hat, she of course, being the great friend she is said, “What a cute hat! It’s like a Blair hat (Gossip Girl)!”  Oh, yeah, now I knew I had the coolest hat ever if it was like Blair’s!!!

Well, I needed to gather up the courage to wear the hat in public due to my husband’s snickers and I needed to get past the humbling of the day I wore it and it was windy and when I went to get the mail the wind swooped my hat right off my head and I was chasing it down the street. But the day arrived when I could wear the hat.  It was the perfect occasion! My dad’s birthday! 

The family was meeting for Pizza at Sammy’s Pizza in Schofield. (BEST Pizza ever).  So I donned my floppy hat and away we went.  Elizabeth, who has now become a part of the family came along said nothing about the hat.  I just knew she liked it, she didn’t have to say anything. 

Well, I started to wonder if the hat really was all that.  Because, everyone who arrived from my family, to my sister, my brother, my sister-in-law all said the exact same thing at different times.  “What’s with the hat?”  I LOVE THE HAT I responded.  My sister in law even asked me if I had MADE the hat, which resulted in bursts of laughter from others.  They all remembered the hat I knit for my Godson at Christmas time.  I’m telling you, it was the cutest, THE CUTEST little green and brown stocking hat for a baby I had ever seen, if I do say so myself.  Christmas Eve, she emailed me a picture of the hat that I worked tirelessly on for weeks.  However, I did not look at the picture immediately.  Two weeks later, I thought, oh yea, I gotta see the hat on Calvin.  Opened the picture and just sat there for about 30 seconds not moving.  Not breathing, and then the bursts of laughter came and tears were rolling down my face. Don’t you just love when you laugh until you cry?  The hat, well, to put it lightly, did not fit him.  Was it too big?  Oh no, It did not even cover a quarter of the top of his head let alone pull down around his ears to keep them warm from the cold Wisconsin winter.  That hat sat on the top of his head and looked like it belonged on a Barbie doll.  So, no, no I did not make the floppy hat I was sporting that day.  I never heard anyone ask my brother what was with the hat he was wearing, a Brewers baseball cap.  Never heard anyone ask Dan, what was with his hat, a baseball hat.  Nope, they all just commented on me and my big ol’ floppy hat.  I guess the hat just isn’t all that.  Especially when walking out my dad said, “I used to have a hat just like that”.  ALRIGHT ALREADY, I GET THE HINT! Not that my dad doesn’t have great taste in hats, but I really didn’t consider this a hat to be even closely suited to a type of hat that a man was wearing. I was channeling my inner Blair, not my inner safari hunter.

I’m used to being laughed at though.  I laugh right along with everyone, I know exactly where I fit in, in the grand scheme of life. 

If you haven’t realized how big of a dork I am by now, this may be what leads you to the other side.

I was gathering all the things I needed to take to the pizza place that day.  My family all lives quite a distance away, so usually there is a pile of stuff that needs to go along to be passed off to someone else, and believe me when I say, as much stuff as I bring to them, they give to me. We never come back with an empty trunk, even though we make the agreement before we leave almost every time that we will NOT be bringing anything home with us. 

However, I needed to wrap two gifts, one for my dad and one for my mom, whose birthday was the previous month. (YES, I saw my mom before going to the celebration for my dad’s birthday but kept forgetting to give her the gift I had waiting for her). 

Did I have birthday wrapping paper?  No.  Did I have a correct size gift bag for the gifts? No. So, I wrapped them both in Christmas wrapping paper.  My husband, of course, said “nice paper”.  I said, “oh, it’s just going to get ripped off anyway and besides…it should be Christmas everyday!” But then came time for the cards. I had two cards for them, each having a funny saying about hearing impairment, not that they are so old they can’t hear anymore, but more so making light of my own hearing impairment.

I signed my mom’s card and wouldn’t you know I had no envelope.  Honestly, I’m not sure I even grabbed an envelope when I bought the card.  So, I signed the card and taped it to the package with a little side note saying “Late AND no envelope, someday I’ll get it all together, but don’t hold your breath”.  I signed the card from the four of us and taped it to the top of the gift and put it in the microfiber bag I had been packing with other things I needed to take along.

Then I signed the card for Dad.  Guess what?  No envelope.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME???  Nope, I had no envelope.  SO, another side note was added to that card immediately. “Christmas paper AND no envelope, someday I’ll get it together but pretty sure my hearing will come back first”.  Then I signed the card. Love, Dave, Becky, David, Dave & Lane.  Oh crap.  New little note added to the bottom. “I guess Dave loves you double today, see side note”.  It got a chuckle out of my dad I think but well, I wonder if he fears for the day my husband is going to send me back.  No, I don’t think I need to wonder, I know he does.  Don’t worry dad, I’m not coming home again, Dave is stuck with me, and guess what? HE CHOSE ME….HA…who is the joke on now???

So, the floppy hat has been hung in the closet.  I think I’ll wear it this weekend to the crab boil. See how many people there say “What’s up with that hat”.  Oh, I will only know 4 people there so out of the 20 or so will be saying, awesome hat!!! Or more likely probably whispering, “who is the chick with the ridiculous hat on? Where does she think she is from , the upper east side?”   

Well, no people, I do not. I am not even from the upper east side of Redgranite.  But man, ridiculous as it may look, I love that floppy hat and think if I wore a plaid flannel shirt, I may even resemble Ellie Mae from the Beverly Hillbillies.  Wouldn’t that be fun? On to the next adventure for this cracked pot.  But I know someday God is going to use my brokenness for the good of others.  I have said it before, I'll say it again, even if that is just using me so people can look themselves in the mirror and smile and say, well at least I'm not THAT girl.  

Wear your hats ladies!  The bigger and floppier the better and pretty soon everyone will be wearing them and I can say I started an awesome fashion trend in the area.  Yeah, ok, it's JCPenney that did...or tried anyway, I found the hat on the clearance rack, I know...no one is buying another floppy hat.  I will wear mine with pride thank you very much.

May God bless the rest of your week!