YESTERDAY?

MAN. I. MISS. THOSE. ROLLS. AND. THOSE. CHEEKS.

PIGTAILS IN THE WIND

Same park, same cement cylinder, same pose, same pigtails, same photographer, same heart, same soul. Love, love, love. Crazy love.

LOOK AT THE STARS. LOOK HOW THEY SHINE FOR YOU.

Last night RC and Acie came over for a little din din. Rebecca told us that her best friend's husband's parents had bought Adam a star (we realize you don't really own the star nor do you actually buy the star; it's named after you but I say if it's yours, it's yours), complete with a certificate and a map of exactly where it is in the night sky. One of the coolest things ever if you ask me. So now Adam Crownover has his very own star and Rebecca will soon be the owner of a new telescope I'm pretty sure. We discussed owning a star and the possibility your star could end up being a falling star. Then what? We wondered if China sees the same stars we see in Texas. We discussed the fact that we know nothing about astrology or astronomy or whatever it is. In fact, we weren't sure we could even find the Big or Little Dippers. So we stepped out into the back yard, heads cranked back and took a big look around. AND THEN, at the exact same moment, Rebecca and I saw a falling star shoot through the sky. We squealed and jumped up and down a little and Rebecca made a wish. And I thought to myself, "Thanks Adam. Thanks for the wink. We know you're up there watching over all of us."

WILD THINGS

Dinner conversation last night somehow led to the possibility of taking the two two year olds to see Where the Wild Things Are. And since RC has never read the book, I dug into my hope chest and found an old copy given to me December 23, 1997. My mom always gives us books for Christmas typically a children's book with an adult message. This was no different. After her bath, I sat with BB and turned the yellow pages. The first read:

Dearest Grace-
I walked into Barnes&Noble to find "Mattie's Hats" and walked straight to this book. As you read it, I know you will find the deeper meaning that is meant for you to know....and understand. As you search through life, I will be hear waiting...you are not mine, but I am yours forever.
All my love, Mom

And as tears welled up in my eyes, I couldn't help but think about how all of us have been to where the wild things are. And that someday BB will board her private boat and visit this place too. She will leave me as I left my mother in search of adventure and a life all her own. She will be king of the wild things and hopefully someday come back to me.

The deeper message is that we all "leave" one thing or another. Perhaps we separate from a friend for a while or go in search of a better job or move to another city. At some point in life, I think we all take a step out of our comfort zone, take a step towards the unknown, take a step towards change. We LET THE WILD RUMPUS START!

The beauty of this tale is in the end Max leaves the wild things and sails home. We all have that choice. We can all go into the depths of our hearts and search for what will make us "go home" which to me simply means letting go. Let go of the things that make you roar your terrible roars and gnash your terrible teeth. Let go of what holds you back. Step away from yourself and make a change. DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT! Call the friend you miss, forgive someone, take your neighbor an apple pie. It's the wild things inside of us that can make us better people. It's the quiet stir or loud voice shouting GIVE MORE. LOVE MORE. BE MORE. So put your wolf suit on, sail away from the You that won't budge or bend, AND GO TO WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE!!!!!!!!

THE GRIND

Over the summer I spent a lot of time working from home and even more time not working at all. Things were really slow in the o&g world and I spent my days cleaning house and taking BB to the library.

Things have picked back up and I am once again a full time stay at work mom. Last night when I got home it was dark. It was bath time. BB and I crawled into a warm tub and washed her baby's hair. I sat there for a moment and felt so sad. If I get home at 6 and she goes to bed in between 8 and 9, that's no more than 3 hours together each day. I am gone most mornings before she wakes up unless I take a quick minute to fix her hair.

Being a working mom is hard. It's really really hard. How much impact am I having on her life in 3 hours a day? Did I teach her the alphabet or did the sitter? And when I get home and want to unwind from a long day at work am I being the best mom I can possibly be? Shouldn't I read ONE MORE book before bed instead of 15minutes of Sesame Street?

Thank God up in Heaven for my job. I love my job. I love having freedom from her as well. I love it when the bills are paid and I can buy her new winter clothes. I am so very thankful I made it through those couple of rough months. I am grateful for all of the blessings in my life. I'm just sayin, being a working mom is hard.....

WHITE MAN? I THINK NOT.

O.K. so you're blonde and fair complected and blue eyed.....Here are some indicators that your blood runs Choctaw Squaw:

Your Halloween costume is not from the Costume Castle. It's a hand beaded buckskin given to you by your Choctaw great-grandmother complete with moccasins and a leather pouch to put your arrowheads in.

Similar leather pouch is tucked away in your hope chest with the remnants of your umbilical cord to ward off evil spirits.

Your mother has presented her tribal card at a casino in Durant, OK aka "The Res" with hopes of getting a discount at the roulette table.

Your grandmother's official real name is not Gina or Poppy or Mom. Her REAL name is Red Bird.

Your mom has been known to run very very fast circles in the rain in the dark in her undies.