About Me~, Uncategorized, Writing

A Bible, a Bogg, and a Blessing ~

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It’s been a crazy couple of weeks here the last couple of weeks, at our house. We’ve been getting ready for “Bogg Week”. For those of you scratching your heads just now, that’s Arkansas Southern Baptist speak for Bogg Springs Baptist camp week. A whole week of craziness that requires packing enough clothes for two teenagers that seemingly turns into enough clothes for an army. Yet somehow they return home with clothes for not even ONE child. They go clean , excited, and revved. They decamp; dirty, tired, but spiritually revived, and having made new friends. I know a lot of people think how great it is to have their kids gone from their house . Well, let me tell you. I am NOT one of them. I enjoy their noise, I enjoy the energy that their big growing teenage bodies fill our house with. I do NOT enjoy knowing that they are not here down the hall in their room; THAT ¬†is a very empty feeling indeed. So my bedside Bible has been a particular comfort these last couple of days. As they are 15 and 17 , I know soon enough they will make career choices that will take them far away from me. I WILL be happy, I SWEAR!! ūüôā I will be proud! It will mean I have done what I set out to do , those very short years ago, to send them out clean, excited , and revved. And to let them know , it’s always okay, to come home and decamp; dirty, tired, so that you can spiritually revive. Home should always be like that . It is your greatest blessing. I know mine still is. Today , finding myself in need of a little bit of that refreshment myself, I hied myself up the hill to the shade of the old oak ¬†and rocked with my Daddy awhile. So whether it’s the Bible, the Bogg, the old oak, or wherever you find yourself today, don’t forget you CAN still ¬†find your refreshment in God today.

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About Me~, Uncategorized, Writing

My Way, or the Highway………

 

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Commercial advertising these days has become somewhat of a conundrum for me lately. ¬†On the one hand, I think some of the creativity is quite hysterical. The little mini -pony who is shunned by the bigger horses, so his owner orders him a “pony-door”, so he might enter the house , ¬†thereby rendering his larger pony buddies jealous. Or the long-running gag of the pistachio consortium with celebrities ¬†saying things like , “Ms. Piggy does it like a diva.” But, humor being few and far between, I have noticed a disturbing trend lately. ¬†Commercials more and more often , “man bash“. The advertising execs in these ¬†companies ¬†seem to think that the way to get a woman to buy a product ( ANY PRODUCT!) , is to make the ¬†male of the species feel as though he were nothing more than ¬†a single -celled amoeba on the bottom of the gene pool. ¬†In the first instance I call to you attention the commercial for dishwasher packets . The kindly husband has gone to the store and done the shopping, bringing home the “wrong” brand of detergent. His wife then proceeds to tell him all the reasons WHY he was wrong for getting “THAT” brand, until he meekly says, “I’m going back to the store , aren’t I?” ¬†to which she says, “Yes. Yes you are.” Not one thank you did he get for going shopping in the first place, nor did his wife say, I should have been more specific about what kind we needed. NO. It was automatically the man’s fault, and he was made to look stupid. Another of this type of commercial that is ¬†going around is the one where the husband is changing the baby’s diaper on top of the kitchen counter. Again the woman rolls her eyes, and makes a big show of using a cleaner to wipe off the counter. This type of sexism is not limited to commercials for adults either. If you ever have time to just sit and really pay attention to the advertisements , it seeps into the products for children as well. On a certain peelable orange companies commercials, little girls are blatantly allowed to mean to their little brothers, where if this behavior were reversed, there’d be an uproar! It’s everywhere in society, seemingly parents teaching their girls younger and younger, that “Boys are stupid.” ¬†“ Girls are better.” And why shouldn’t they teach their daughters that, this generation of women seems to feel that way themselves. ¬†I’ve heard women speak about their husbands in ways that I found totally shocking. “Why bother asking your husband to do it, he’ll just screw it up anyway?” ¬†, “There’s no way I’d send my husband to the store, he’d never get the shopping right.¬†, “He tried to fold the laundry for me the other day, and it was a joke. I had to completely refold it.” It has to be their way or the highway, and heaven forbid their husband have a different opinion than theirs, or they will run him over like three-legged dog. ¬† Where is all this blatant disrespect for men coming from? Whatever happened to being proud of your mate, and letting him know he’s appreciated for what he does? Listening to HIS thoughts and ideas, and using his input? ¬†Of course he’s not “perfect“, but last time I checked , these “ladies” runnin’ their mouths off , weren’t paragons of perfection themselves! ¬†How much better would our relationships be if we gave credit where credit was due, ” Thanks babe, for getting the soap at the store.” or, ¬†“I sure appreciate you taking the time to fold the clothes. ” ¬†What’ s really more important, that it was done ¬†“the RIGHT way”, or that it was done with love? ¬†And it doesn’t hurt to brag on your husband to someone else every now and again. I know I was blessed by the Good Lord above with my husband. ¬†He might not BE perfect, but he’s perfectly suited to me, ¬†and I want everyone to know that I am proud to call him mine!

About Me~, Writing

The BITE~

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Okay, ¬†I’ll just get right down to the brass tacks people. ¬†At the beginning of this month , I had kind of made a goal with myself and my page here that I would write every day about lupus, because this is lupus awareness month. ¬†But , let’s be perfectly honest here, I suck at daily goals. ¬†In large part , BECAUSE of lupus, and in large part because I JUST don’t WANT to write about lupus every day. I mean , seriously. LUPUS sucks huge quantities of big , hairy things. It bites. It blows. I want to write about fun things. Like roller coasters. Okay, so maybe not about roller coasters, I don’t particularly find those fun. But , KITTENS! Or orange sherbet , or ginormous glasses of ice cold coca cola consumed at mind blowing speed! YES! THOSE kinds of things! Not IV infusions , or toe -nail puking nausea, or rashes that make your skin fall off. Or being in the hospital for so long that you’ve moved your entire wardrobe there, and know ALL the nurses and doctors by name, and you’re only 22 years old. I want to write about traveling! To places with names like Zanzibar, and Montenegro, where they serve you things that you can’t pronounce, and maybe you don’t even want to. ¬†I want to write about things like kissing my husband on top of a mountain so high you have to sleep on top of it for the night before you can climb back down again. I don’t want to have to write about things like telling my sons , “No . There will be no more babies in Mommy’s belly. The lupus took those parts away.” And I was only 24. ¬†I don’t ever want to write again , ever again , about chemotherapy, to kill the lupus , which it does , VERY effectively , but also makes me so sick I wish I COULD die before it does. ¬†I would only write about the good things! The things like , my husband holding my hand in the hospital , while I was breathing so few breaths the nurses thought that I was going to go, but I still knew my family was there. I would write that, in spite of all that I have seen , felt and done, every single day of my 36 years has been worth it, I would write that the love I feel for my children surpasses any pain I have ever known, and I would write to those of you in the midst of this fight , that yes, lupus sucks large quantities of big, hairy things. ¬†It blows. It bites. But WE ¬†bite harder. And I will find and write the GOOD much more than the bad.

About Me~, Writing

The Wolf Walks Where It Will~

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Today is May the 1st, and kicks off #LupusAwarenessMonth ¬†Now for those of you who don’t know lupus is a serious autoimmune disease which causes the bodies immune system to become confused and attack its own vital organs as if they were they were foreign objects. ¬†As in your immune system sees your liver and says “AAiaiAIaeeeeee! ¬†Intruder! Intruder! Kill it!!!” ¬†So into a flare you go. ¬†A flare is basically your entire body under attack from within. The lupus cells basically telling all the others, “Suck it up, cause we’re in charge now!!” ¬†These flares can wreak havoc with ANY part of your body , at ANY time. Lupus stole my firstborn child from me ¬†, at 3 and 1\2 months pregnant, it’s stolen my heart health, as I now have only 35 % function of my heart muscle. It’s stolen years from my life, added up , in doctor’s visits, and lengthy hospital stays.¬†¬†It’s ¬†stolen¬†¬†my nervous system health , because the inflammation has irreversibly damaged my function controls . ¬†It tried to kill my oldest son in utero , damaging his cardiac nerve beyond repair ,causing him to need a pacemaker at just 9 months. ¬†It’s stolen my uterus, my appendix , my gallbladder. ¬†If that weren’t enough , the medications I’ve had to take to maintain any semblance of normality of health have side effects you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. They’ve leached the calcium out of my bones ,disintegrating my jaw, loosening my teeth and ¬†leaving me with the skeleton of an 80 year old lady. ¬†I have cataracts, and I’m slowly losing my hearing. ¬†The chemo causes my hair to fall out, and my stomach to wish it had never , ever so much as even heard the word food. It has stolen relationships with family members who don’t understand. ¬†Who think I am somehow “putting on”, that I WISH to be this way, that I fawn for this attention. When all I could ever really wish for is to disappear down a deep dark hole where I would never have to hear the word lupus again. ¬†Yes, lupus IS the great thief. ¬†In bits and pieces , it steals until you have no more coin with which to bargain, and so are left the champion. At the cost of all you are, but the champion, none the less. ¬†And so , we live to fight another day.¬†

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BACK TO THE CAVES WE GO~

I would like to start this post by saying, that ANYONE who knows me, knows I don’t get offended easily. ¬†Pretty much anything , anybody says, just rolls right off my back.

However, I just recently read an article , with MEMES to go along with it, that just totally rubbed my fur the wrong way.

And once you read it, I am fairly sure you will feel the same way.

To start this off, I always thought the idea behind childbirth was to have a HAPPY, HEALTHY child. One for the parents to love, and one to love the parents.

WELL, this fella ‘ here has just set childbirth, and childrearin’ back 100 years and caused a great deal of unhappiness between women. When you read it , you will understand, and be just as outraged as I was. ¬†Seriously, this man is half a bubble off of plumb, a donut short of a full box, and as my Daddy would say, “His bread’s in the oven , but the gas ain’t on. ” ¬†The word chauvinist doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it.

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Because apparently , those of us who had C sections are INFERIOR.

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Because , apparently, we didn’t REALLY LOVE our babies, we are just selfish for making ¬†different choice.

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Because apparently , we’re just drug-addled women , who are lazy and chemically dependent.

So we have no business having doctors interfere in the “natural” process of birth, even though our children came early and would have died without medical intervention. ¬†We’re just lazy like that. ¬†Needless to say, I refuse to feel sorry for my childbirth experience , as my sons are 16 and 14 and are completely healthy , despite the fact that (SHOCK AND HORROR!!!!) they were both born by Ceasarian section.

So perhaps there is hope after all!

About Me~, Writing

Heart Attack on Legs~

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Spiders are freaky. I mean , they’re interesting, yes, from behind glass, heh. ūüėČ ¬†My boys had two of them for pets , ¬†Mexican tarantulas, that they captured themselves. ¬†Here, in Arkansas , in the fall they go looking for mates and travel across the roads where they are quite easy to spot. If you are an adventurous boy, catching one ( or two) in a Mason jar is something of a rite of passage. ¬†You keep them in an aquarium which can be really beautiful , with plants , other foliage and limbs, where you feed them live crickets. ¬†I didn’t mind all that. ¬†But here’s the thing, also here in Arkansas we have lots of other species of spiders, MANY of which make it into our homes on a regular basis, and yes, two of them ARE the famous Latrodectus mactans and Loxosceles reclusa. (Oh yes, the black widow and the brown recluse.) Check out this picture here,¬†P6104719_wolf_spider_top_sm

This lovely eight-legged freak is called a Wolf Spider. They like to come indoors when it starts to get cold. Last week it had rained for about four days straight and was unseasonably warm for the end of the year. Then suddenly it was winter again. ¬†I was sleeping quite nicely when I was rudely awakened by the sensation of what I was “dreaming” ¬†was something furry crawling down my cheek. ¬†Now I’m EXTREMELY paranoid about moving objects in my bed, and I’m a ultra-light sleeper, so I jolted awake, flinging “whateveritwasthatwasslinkingdownmyface” ¬†as far as I could across the room. ¬†Turns out , it was a wolf spider. ¬† ACTUALLY sized about as large as the one in the photo, legs and all. ¬†I near to died. ¬†Needless to say, this experience did not do my tachycardic heart condition any good, crazy thing took several years off my life, I swear. I’m wondering if putting up a tiny little rope up around my bed will work for spiders like it’s supposed to do for snakes? LOL ¬†ūüėÄ

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There Was a Little Boy~

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Today I want to take time to wish my youngest son , a very “Happy Birthday!” ¬†I have been so lucky to have him in my life, because after our first son, they told us we most likely would NOT have any more, due to my health. ¬†He is my “BONUS” baby. ¬†ūüôā ¬†He and his brother have such a special relationship , too. ¬†I have had so many people ask, “How do they get along so well?” and my answer has always been, “They are each other’s best friends. ” They were born exactly two years, two days and two hours apart. His brother told everyone that Denim was HIS baby, and that little two year old boy fed his brother, held him, and protected him from all harm. ¬†Denim has grown into such a smart kid, with huge blue eyes and a off-beat , quirky personality. ¬†He has deep philisophical conversations with me, and is very compassionate. We are so happy to call him ours, and can’t wait to see what he makes of his life. ¬†We love you blue-eyed sweet one! ¬†Happy 14th birthday ! ¬†‚̧