11/05/11: Axis & Allies

"Nov. 5: Thankful that my guys and I played Axis & Allies all evening."


When Dave was a teenager, he and his friends often played the board game "Axis & Allies."  Before Jadyn was born, I went to Toronto.  While I was there, I went to a toy store to find my mom a Beany Baby with the Canadian flag on it (don't ask...at least not now), and I spotted that game.  I bought it and carried it on the plane as my carry-on bag.  Have you seen how big that box is?  Why did I not wait until I got home to buy it?  That's just me.  I can be impulsive like that.  I saw it, remembered how much Dave liked it, and bought it for him because he had helped me go to Toronto to see Les Miserables because Colm Wilkinson had joined that touring company.  Long story, but that's just one of the many reasons I love Dave so much.  So...I bought the game and we still laugh at how I looked walking off the plane with it!


Dave introduced Jadyn to the game, and Jadyn loves it, too!  He's still learning the strategy, but he'll pick it up.  So, starting Friday night, we had a family weekend of Axis & Allies.  I am thankful that my two guys and I like each other so much that we played a board game for several hours, late into the night on both Friday and Saturday nights.  That's quality family time, and I loved every second of it...even though I lost when I played as the Allies.  I always lose when I play as the Allies.  Wonder what that says about me?


Looking forward to more family game nights!

11/04/11: Son

"Nov. 4: Thankful for my son, Jadyn.  (And, Laura Thompson Robertson, I do plan to blog details.  Consider this my "outline"!  LOL!)"  There it is...my crappy excuse to my dear friend.  (Taking a moment to hang my head in shame...OK!  Done!)


In January 2000, I went to my GYN to schedule a laparoscopy to see if there were a physiological reason I was not getting pregnant.  My GYN, Dr. Sharon Keith, asked if I could be pregnant.  I laughed and said no.  She asked how long since my last cycle, and when I said 6 weeks, she said, "That's nothing for you."  She walked out to schedule but came back in the room.  "Have you been sick in the mornings?"  Nope.  She left again.  She came back again.  "Are your (girls) sore?"  Nope.  She left again.  She came back again.  "Here.  Pee in the cup."  Ok.  Pee.  Wash hands.  Sit down and read magazine.


In walks nurse.  "Julie, this is positive."  
Me:  "Do another one."
RN: "Are you serious?"
Me: "Look.  I'm a shrink and I know about false positives.  Do another one."
RN: "It's positive."
Me:  Stare...stunned...
Dr. Keith comes back in the room.
Me: "Sharon, there are two pluses in the bathroom."
MD: "You're pregnant."
Me: "Uh-huh."
MD: "You know what I'm worried about?"
Me: "Ectopic?"
MD: "I'll get the vaginal ultrasound ready."


Me: Called Dave.
Dave: "Hello."
Me: "Hon, there are two positive pregnancy tests here."
Dave: "Whose?"
Me: "Ours!"


And so began our path of parenthood.


Jadyn is the most precious gift either one of us could imagine, but since this is my blog, I am going to write about what he means to me.  Let Dave get his own blog!  


As I write, Jadyn is 11 and in his drama class that he attends after school at Arkansas Baptist where he is in 5th grade.  I love that kid.  I LIKE that kid!  I like hanging out with him!  He and I just returned from a trip to New York City.  I mean I really like that kid!


Jadyn is such a neat kid.  He is quick with an "I love you" as well as a hug, even in front of his friends!  His understanding of people blows me away and his empathy is astounding.  He doesn't mind being different, having chosen the non-traditional sport of Taekwondo rather than the more traditional sports of football, basketball, baseball, and even soccer.  He rarely needs correction, and when he does he receives it well.  When he is angry, even at me, he talks to me. When he is disciplined, he thinks about it and learns from it.  He's a far better person than I am!


Jadyn brings so much happiness into our lives.  He completes our family.  I can't remember what life was like without him, nor do I ever want to know!   I pray for his safety--physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  I pray that he continues to grow in wisdom and discernment.  I pray that he continues to surround himself with great friends.  I pray for his future wife, that she loves God and him completely.  I pray she loves us, too!  


No, this isn't a long blog post.  Yes, it is barely scratching the surface.  If I were to go into all that I am thankful for regarding my son, I would blow up with Internet!  Who knows?  Perhaps future November blog posts will contain specifics.


Jadyn, I love you more than the sand and the stars!

11/03/11:Husband

"Nov. 3: Thankful for my husband and that I married my best friend."  FB...outline...yadda yadda...


David.  I don't even know where to begin.  Perhaps the beginning is good.  It had to be God's plan that we marry because even our meeting was so unlikely it is beyond mere coincidence.  David is 6 years younger than I, so we did not meet until after I moved back to Arkansas from graduate school.  After all, when I was in 5th grade, Dave was in kindergarten, a fact which freaked out my son's best friend, Tucker.  (His mom is Laura, and her blog's link is on my page.  I highly recommend her blog!)  Well, I couldn't let it rest, so I told Tucker that our prom picture was really funny because I rested my arm on top of Dave's head and my dress was wrinkled because I had to hold it over my shoulder while David doubled me on his bicycle because he wasn't old enough to drive.  "Are you serious?"  No, Tucker.  "Oh..." (puzzled expression on his face...)  Gotta love kids, or at least messing with their minds!  At least I do.


Dave and I met at church and quickly became the best of friends.  Our mutual friends encouraged us to date but we both were hesitant because we didn't want to ruin our friendship.  So, when he came over to my apartment and asked if I wanted to date him, we talked about how to preserve our friendship if we ever broke up.  Then we watched "Shawshank Redemption."  And we've forgotten our plan of what to do if we ever broke up. 


Dave and I dated 6 months when we decided to get married.  When we went to tell my parents we were getting engaged, I saw my dad's brain liquefy and drain to lower regions of his anatomy.  Dad said, "Married?!  You're not even engaged!"  "That's what this is, dad," I told him.  Then I promptly added, "I'm not asking for your permission, but I am asking for your blessing."  At this point I witnessed Dave's insides liquefy and drain to lower regions of his anatomy.  I wasn't being disrespectful of my dad, I promise.  At least that wasn't my intention.  I was 28 and had been living on my own for several years!  Give me a break!  Needless to say, we received their blessing and six months later were married.


We've been married 12 great years, 16 total but 12 great ones!  Seriously, we are about to celebrate our 16th anniversary.  It hasn't been smooth sailing; in fact we have weathered some really big storms.  However, I am grateful to have a husband who worked just as hard as I did to keep our ship afloat in storms that have sunk others.  We still are best friends.  We choose to hang out with each other.  We laugh, bicker, argue, love.  We bring out the best in each other, and the worst.  We have grown together as a couple and as individuals.  I am thankful he is the father of my son, establishing a legacy of fatherhood that he did not have, or should I say the antithesis of the one he did have.


Dave, you have been my rock, my anchor, my wings.  If you were to ask me again to marry you, I would not hesitate in saying yes.  I look forward to a lifetime with you.

11/02/11: Extended Family

"Nov. 2: Thankful for my extended family who brought so much laughter and wonderful memories.  Wish I could see you more."  FB Status and Outline Point #2.


As an only child, I loved my extended family with all the cousins.  It gave me a chance to be around kids, not just adults.  I have such wonderful memories of family holidays and get togethers on both sides of my family.  My aunts and uncles were so much fun, my cousins served as the siblings I didn't have, and the best part was we got to go to our separate homes to avoid the sibling bickering!  But cousins could bicker, too...


My mom had two sisters who each had one child.  Yep.  Three only children.  Isn't that a hoot!  My cousin, Tony, is two years older than I and Stephanie is 7 years younger.  I think we all were jealous over "Nanny and PawPaw," but we managed not to kill each other.  I loved going to my grandparents' house, especially when food was involved.  I remember my mom, her sisters, and my Nanny all cooking in that small kitchen.  Every year at every holiday we managed to burn the bread.  Every stinkin' time!  One time, my aunt put Stephanie in front of the stove and told her to watch the bread.  It still burned.  Poor thing, I think she thought that was the way bread was supposed to be on holidays!  Any other time, my Nanny made the best biscuits, and they usually were whop biscuits.  I think it was the unhealthy bacon drippings she put on the top.  It usually is unhealthy if it tastes too good.  We cousins would save the biscuits for snacks all day long; they were even better cold!


My dad's side of the family is a different story.  My dad had two brothers and two sisters.  Actually, he had a third sister but she died as a baby before he was born.  Her name was Mary Francis.  People always said I looked like her and it would freak me out!  Imagine as a kid being told you looked like your dead aunt!  I think it was the hair.  My dad had red hair, I had red hair, and apparently Mary Francis had red hair.  Some younger third cousins came out with red hair at some point, but that was it. I don't know if they were ever told that they looked like their dead great great aunt... 


So, my dad's family, the Princes.  His siblings all had several children, not just one like my mom's sisters.  I was the next to youngest grandchild, and there were great grandchildren older than I.  My grandfather died before my parents met.  My grandmother was the matriarch, and she was something!  She died at 103.  Her hair still was not all gray and her mind was sharp as a tack. For her 100th birthday, the family planned a surprise party.  I questioned the wisdom of a surprise party for our grandmother who was turning 100 until they told me she had actually planned it and wanted us to carry it out.  That was my grandma!  


My grandma was a character.  She tried to plant a rose bush using a pick-ax and dug a hole in her sewage line.  She was 94.  My uncle had to hide the lawn mower and gardening tools after that.  She loved practical jokes, even when they nearly got her killed or her house destroyed, like when she threw a piece of black rubber hose on my dad and yelled, "Snake!"  My dad, who was deathly afraid of snakes, was a big man and almost tore down her kitchen trying to get out.   Grandma just laughed as she picked up her overturned table and chairs and cleaned the food from the ceiling.


When my dad was dying with cancer, I saw how a mother's heart never changes.  My dad was 65 and my grandma was 99.  I saw her long to cradle him in her lap and "make it all better" as we mom's want to do.  Then, on the way to his funeral, I slammed my grandma's hand in the door of the family limo.  Yep, you read it right...I SLAMMED MY 99 YEAR OLD GRANDMA'S HAND IN THE DOOR OF THE FAMILY LIMO ON THE WAY TO MY DAD'S FUNERAL!  When we got to the funeral and were seated in the family section, we asked for a Band Aid.  "Who needs a Band Aid?"  "Grandma."  "Why does Grandma need a Band Aid?"  "Because Julie slammed her hand in the car door."  "Julie!"  "It was an accident!  I swear!"  Bro. Wesley, the minister and only one who could see the commotion, just stared at us.  However, he had been around the family enough to know and later he chuckled with the rest of us.  I know my dad had to have been laughing!  At the meal after the funeral, I apologized to my grandma once again.  I really felt terrible.  She patted me on the arm and said, "Oh, it's all right.  I've decided not to sue you."  That was my grandma!   It's a good thing I don't believe in reincarnation because there isn't enough good karma in the world to get me above a dung beetle after that.


Grandma Prince lived alone until a few months before she died, and then she had lived with my aunt.  My mom called one night and said that my aunt and uncle had to use the wheelchair to help my grandma in bed.  I said, "She'll die soon."  Sure enough, she died the next morning.  My mom asked how I knew, and I said that I knew my grandma and as soon as she could not get around herself, she'd say, "I'm done!"  


My cousins Melanie and Marcia were like my sisters.  We were close in age and our parents were together almost every weekend playing a card game called Pitch.  Marcia was only 3 years older than I, and most of the time we terrorized Melanie, who was the older of the two.  I remember Melanie trying to watch Lawrence Welk (only 3 channels, remember) or a beauty pageant if she were lucky, and Marcia and I would be running around the house with towels tied around our necks playing Batman and Robin.  I think I was Robin.  Melanie taught us both the value of drinking dill pickle juice.


And then there was David.  David is only about 5 months older than I am, and we were like peas and carrots as Forrest Gump would say.  I remember their house burned right before Christmas when we were kids, so at the family Christmas party, the family was helping them replace what they needed via presents.  David and I must have been younger than 7, and most kids that age do not fully appreciate the gift of clothes at Christmas.  David's face must have shown his complete displeasure with his gifts because my aunt took him to another room where he met Jesus.  The meeting with Jesus must have given him a change of heart because with the next present he stated with an emotionless face and in a matter of fact tone, "Just what I always wanted...a pair of pajamas."


David, I say that every Christmas in honor of you.

11/01/11: Parents

As I told a friend (more on that later), my Facebook status has served as an outline for my blog.  I didn't intend for it to serve that purpose; I just came up with that excuse when said friend (more on that later) called me on needing to blog it and then called me on my crap excuse of using FB as an outline.  So, to keep my word, here it is...the blog posts I was reminded to write (more on that later).

"Nov. 1: Thankful for my parents and the start they gave me in life."  Facebook status and outline point #1.

I had fabulous parents.  I can never be the person who goes to therapy and tries to convince myself and my therapist that my current woes as an adult were because of my crappy childhood.  I tried that once.  It didn't work.  My parents truly were amazing.  Perfect?  Not at all, and they would be the first to admit it.  Did they make mistakes?  You bet, and they would be the first to admit it.  Was my childhood forever scarred by their mistakes, ruining every chance that I could be a responsible and successful adult?  Hello????  I am who I am and content with who I am largely because of my parents and what they did right and because of the mistakes they made.

My parents waited 10 years before I came along.  Believing she couldn't have children (because they had been trying without success to become pregnant for years), mom went to the doctor with what she thought was a virus she caught at work, only her coworkers had gotten well and she hadn't.  Yep, I was the virus.  I still think it hilarious that I was making her sick before she ever knew about me!  While my mom was in the office finding out that she would have this virus for years and years and that this virus was going to cost a lot of time and money, dad was in the cafeteria of the doctor's building getting a job transfer, promotion, and raise because they just happened to run into my mom's boss who had had the same virus everyone else had (not my mom's virus).  Yep, before they even knew I existed, I was making my mom sick and giving my dad a false sense of increased wealth.  SURPRISE!!!  Always the prankster...

As I mentioned, my parents had been married 10 years before I came along.  They both were in their 30s, and they knew they would not have any other children.  They had every reason to create an insufferable, entitled, selfish, spoiled brat.  Wait...they did (pregnant pause for contradiction...).  Seriously, they could have ruined me under the guise of loving me, but they used wisdom and discernment to guide their parenting, and they loved me enough but not "too much."  (Good parenting book by the way: "Parents Who Love Too Much.")  They both would have rescued me from difficulties in a proverbial heartbeat, but they allowed me to struggle and find my own way, to have my own successes and failures.  They could have babied me and kept me dependent on them, but they encouraged me to grow and be responsible and accountable.  Did they help me?  Of course they did!  I was their only child!  They provided for my every need and most of my wants.  They sacrificed for me.  They loved me with incomprehensible love.  

My parents taught me from an early age about freedom and responsibility.  I never had a curfew because they trusted me, and I didn't want to betray that trust because it was precious to me.  I never was grounded because mom said that would be punishing her more than me!  I was disciplined, sometimes by the switch from a peach tree that once grew in our yard but had to be cut down probably because it was nothing more than a trunk due to all the fruit-bearing branches being "pruned" so I could be pruned as well.  Sometimes that discipline was via lecture.  However, most of the time, that discipline was in allowing me to experience consequences, even ones they could foresee, so that I would learn the responsibility of decision and action.  My dad taught me how to think critically by asking me what options I had and what the possible pros and cons of each would be, then simply saying, "Choose."  My mom taught me how to love unconditionally.  Together, they were a great team, teaching me how to love with my whole being but to be smart about it.  

Sadly, my dad no longer is with me in body, but he definitely is with me in spirit.  I have great memories which become even sweeter when someone shares them with me.  He never met his grandson, which will always sadden me, but oh how proud he would have been!  

I am blessed to still have my mom.  She is relatively healthy and very sharp.  She loves me with a love I now can comprehend because I, too, am a mom.  I often say she has so much mothering in her that I gladly share her with others, and even though many view her as a mom, I am the only person on the planet fortunate enough to call her mom.  That is quite an honor for me.  I know that from a very young age I was not the daughter she had anticipated, but I know she believes I am the daughter she needed.  I have a magnet that reads, "I dress this way to mortify my mother" and even though it is unintentional, I know I do...mortify her, that is.  I loathe shopping.  I'm not big on jewelry.  We really are quite different types of women, but we are the same when it comes to loving our friends and family, especially each other.  And even though I try her patience and she tries mine, when all is said and done, never a single doubt remains about our relationship.  She is, after all, my mom.

If I can be the type of parent that my parents were, perhaps one day I will see my son being a wonderful dad to his children, knowing that the legacy that was passed was a wealthy one.  That will be the greatest honor of all, not just to me, but to my parents as well.

I'm Back...

Yes, I'm back, but not in an "Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator I've come to destroy --no wait!--save the world" sort of way; rather in an "I know I could have done better and not put it off" kind of way.  Yes, that is my hat in my hand.  I'm not going to write any more about why I am back because that would be ruining one of my posts.  Suffice it to say, the month of November and the focusing of my mind on the blessings for which I truly am thankful brought my blog out of the dark corner in the back of my mind where it would peep out every now and then but could easily be overlooked or relegated to the vague time slot of "another time when I have more time" to the forefront of my mind where it was lit with a metaphorical neon "You have time NOW" sign.


So...ummm...yeah...

Sharp as a Knife's Edge

The Songahm Taekwondo World Championships were in Little Rock this past week.  We inaugurated a new Grand Master, GM In Ho Lee, and witnessed our former Grand Master become Grand Master Emeritus Soon Ho Lee.  What a show it was!  The pageantry and tradition was a site to behold.  Given that this was a momentous event, record numbers were in attendance.  In the Pro Shop, I saw the t-shirts from a school somewhere in the U.S.  It was black with neon green writing, and on the back was the scripture, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another" (Proverbs 27:17).  Just how does one person sharpen another?  This got me to thinking (a very dangerous past time, indeed).


My first thought was remembering watching my dad and, later, my husband sharpen a knife with a wet stone. I found a website on how to sharpen an iron chisel with a wet stone and was struck by the metaphor.  Basically, it takes five steps.  First, you must fix the stone securely so it won't slip while sharpening.  As you can imagine, bad things happen if your stone is not sure.  Second, the stone needs to be lubricated (hence the word "wet") with oil or water.  A wet stone is rather dry without water.  Third, place the chisel to be sharpened into the honing guide, tightened so it will stay but loose enough to be adjusted.  Fourth, slide the chisel back and forth over the stone, keeping the chisel in constant contact with the stone.  Fifth, clean off the burr by turning it over and starting again.  Repeat all five steps as necessary to achieve the desired edge.  


Basically, what sharpens iron is friction.  The stone is wet to keep it from over heating, but friction is what does the trick.  Oh how I've had people in my life who have sharpened me, and they can testify to the friction it takes, especially when this iron chisel is dull and stubborn!  I thought about those people who have sharpened me and the role they have played in the process.


I have solid friends, people whose character is steadfast, whose devotion is unwavering.  I also have come into contact with people who are "stone cold" and with whom I am not friends.  In both cases, in relating to another, our boundaries as individuals must make contact. When we are heading in the same direction, we glide like glass.  However, when our boundaries are not exactly parallel, we get an angel or an edge to them, and friction begins.  We can try and soothe things with understanding, encouragement, communication, empathy, and all that good stuff that a shrink like me is bound to say, but it doesn't matter how sweet the salve, friction remains. I have some friends who hold up to me a firm reality check, even if I do not agree with the reality they are presenting.  I have been chipped by some people, badly but never broken, and I have had others who come along and patiently begin to smooth away the chips and the burrs.  Slowly and painstakingly, they have remained by my side until my edge returns and I am useful once more.


These are the friends I cherish, the ones who disagree, sometimes vehemently, but they are steadfast.  Even when others have misused me and taken whacks that have left me in bad shape, these friends come along side, challenging and confronting me, making me take critical looks at myself to see the damage that has been done.  They hold me loosely, allowing me to adjust.  They guide me while I get a healthier perspective, a corrective angle.  Then they gently but firmly edify me, not with feel good strokes but with with words and actions that bring about real healing.  Some even bring about a real polish and shine, staying with me long enough for me to be better than I was before.