A Double Birthday!

  Yesterday was an important day at our house. We celebrated not only my twins' ninth birthday, but also the day my life changed forever. That's not to say that my husband's life didn't change, but for this post I'll be sharing my perspective. At 6:17 AM on July 25, 2006, my life instantly changed in ways I couldn't even begin to imagine. I got to be the parent of one child for thirteen minutes, and then became a mom again. Even without the addition of a second child, in those few moments I was blissfully unaware that nothing about my experience in this life would ever be the same.
  Parenthood is one of those decisions that you can't unmake. There's no such thing as a little bit pregnant; either you are or you aren't. And once you are, from the moment that test is positive, the tiny life growing inside you is calling the shots. Your body, heart, and mind undergo changes that you can neither explain nor control. Maybe being admitted to the hospital for three days wasn't on your agenda for the week. I'm pretty certain that taking 9 months off from riding horses, as per my doctor's orders, and taking terbutaline to ward off early contractions were not in my plans. (If you've never taken terbutaline, you're not missing anything. Lying on the couch feeling extremely dizzy with your pulse racing, trying to convince yourself that you are not having a heart attack is not really my idea of a good time.)
  There aren't many things you can do in life that will affect every single decision you make for the rest of your days. Deciding to become a mother is one of those things. Never again will you be free to think only of and for yourself. You will consider how each and every thing you do affects your children, whether you want to or not. Everything from when and how much you sleep to whether you get to pee alone is now the domain of the tiny dictator wrapped in that striped hospital blanket.
  Occasionally you will develop a false sense of security. It tells you that you have this parenting thing under control; that you're doing okay. I mean, the baby's still alive and well after being in your care for its entire life, right? Go ahead and pat yourself on the back, mom. You deserve it! Then sit back and wait for the inevitable tornado that is about to hit your life. The only true thing about childhood phases is that, good or bad, they end. One day you will be rocking along, kicking motherhood's butt...and the next it will have you on your knees, begging for mercy and wondering whose insane idea it was to have a baby, anyway.
  To be fair, the flip side of all this angst is the unbelievable blessing that motherhood brings with it. New babies smell absolutely fantastic. Once you become a mom, there will be no sweeter smell in the world than that of your child. (Yes, I know that they don't always smell good. There were many times that I wondered how something so foul could come out of something so sweet.) However, I can honestly say that some of the most precious moments in my life were those spent with my babies snuggled up on my chest.
  People will tell you how fast your children will grow up. This is purely because they are looking back on it. There were plenty of times when the twins were little that time slowed to a crawl. There were days when I felt like my biggest accomplishment was keeping us all alive for one more day. Children will push your body to supernatural levels of exhaustion. I've read that sleep deprivation is often used as a form of torture. The person who thought that stuff up was most definitely a parent!
  Looking back at the last nine years, I have to say that my husband and I were changed for the better. Being forced to cultivate patience where there was none and consider the needs of others before your own tends to produce real live adults, even if we do still look at each other occasionally and say, "Can you believe we're three people's parents" and then laugh like hyenas.
       

Leaving Las Vegas

  I had it all planned. Two fabulous nights in Vegas alone with my husband. Hours of time to fill in airports and on planes. The solitude of my hotel room to type in. I was going to get so much done without my kids, horses, and housework to stop me. And then, just like it always does, life happened. A one hour layover in Houston turned into a five hour layover when our plane had "maintenance issues.""Fantastic," I thought, "Here's my chance to get some things done!" But alas, my brand spanking new laptop decided that it needed to update itself and promptly gave me the finger.
  So we sat, and we sat. Then we ate ice cream and sat some more. We watched people, because airports are always good for that. We watched a lady trip over her own flip flops and bust her arse. Forget fifty shades of grey. Her face turned fifty shades of red as she looked around to see if anyone noticed. Yep, sorry lady. We ALL saw that go down.
  As what should have been a short layover turned into a marathon visit to Houston International, it occurred to me that we could let this ruin what was supposed to be our first night in Vegas. We could get ill and frustrated, and do what several of our fellow passengers had elected to go with, which was gripe at the lady making the announcement over and over again that we would have "information" about our flight in an hour. This happened at least three times, before she finally decided to have some fun with the group and blurted out, "Look, I have absolutely no idea when your flight will be leaving here. None at all." After a sincere round of applause from the assembled passengers, she settled back into typing furiously on her computer. I have to tell you, I don't think she was doing a darn thing other than trying to look busy so the passengers would think she was working on it.
  Don't get me wrong...I definitely want any maintenance issues on any plane I will be boarding to be addressed. I want that sucker in tip top shape. I want everything from the lock on the bathroom door to the GPS to the thingy that keeps birds from crashing into the plane gizmo (if there is such a thing) in prime working order. Therefore, I will be the last one to complain about having to switch aircraft if the need arises. I have to say that I was extremely pleased to finally be headed to Las Vegas, though.
  We made it to the Luxor in time to fall into bed, thoroughly exhausted just from trying to get there. If you haven't been to Vegas, it's a city you should experience once in your life, preferably after you are over 21. Having been there several times myself over the years, I always forget what it's like. Vegas is a place where people will wear anything, regardless of age, size, or any amount of impropriety any time of the day or night, and no one bats an eyelash. Gift shops close for the evening; bars don't. This particular trip, I marveled at the fact that I could buy alcohol at 7 AM, but I couldn't exchange the tee shirt I bought until 10. Priorities, I suppose.
  Vegas is also two time zones away from my house. Our very brief first night of sleep was interrupted by a phone call from my 8 year old who, having no concept of time differences, decided to call mom at 5:30 AM. After a fun day of no set schedule and a mani/pedi (approximately the 3rd one I've taken time to get since my wedding 13 years ago) while Kirk was working, we went to the Criss Angel "Believe" magic show. I've always enjoyed his tv show, so getting to see it live in Vegas was really cool and something I never thought I would get to do. The show was awesome, by the way, and you should definitely go if you have the chance.
  As we were packing up this morning, my husband apologized for the fiftieth time and reminded me that this wasn't how he had scripted our trip. I told him for the hundredth time how much fun I had, and it occurred to me that life really never goes how we have it scripted. I didn't plan on having twins. I didn't plan on leaving my job to stay home with them. I didn't think I would ever want to have a third child. I didn't plan on homeschooling last year. I certainly didn't plan on raising three little girls without my mother's help and advice. Suddenly I realized that some of the most beautiful things in my life have come from times that things didn't go as planned.
  As we boarded the first flight of our trip out, Memphis to Houston, our flight attendant welcomed us aboard "United Airlines flight 1054, service to Honolulu." She paused for a few seconds, then giggled and said, "Oh, wait! We're going to that other "H" city." It was just a joke, but it caused me to consider for just a second what we would have done had we found ourselves on a plane headed to Hawaii instead of Houston. I have to admit, a tiny voice in my head voted to stay right where we were. You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.       

Why I can't be "that" blogger

  I absolutely love to write. I'd be lying if I said I never wondered how the course of my life could have been altered had I chosen, in all of my third grade wisdom, to pursue writing instead of veterinary medicine. I'm not saying I wish my life were different, mind you; I'm just saying I think about what might have been. Perhaps I told myself that I could always be a writer "too," as if it weren't important enough to become the sole focus of my career. (It's worth noting that I told myself the same thing about barrel racing, which was and is a passion of mine.) Or maybe it was my mom's dire warning that the "only" way I would ever be able to work with horses and have any money was to be a veterinarian. Sorry, Mom, I jokingly say that's the only piece of bad advice you ever gave me.
  Bear in mind that there was no Internet when I was making decisions about my career. My nine year old self couldn't Google the myriad of choices out there. I couldn't consult Facebook and read about the increased incidence of both suicide and depression among veterinarians. I had no idea that a love of books and writing could lead to anything other than becoming a librarian or a teacher. I wasn't really aware that authors wrote anything other than books. "Blogging" wasn't even a word yet.
  Needless to say, I'm extremely glad that writing doesn't have an age limit. You'd better believe that as long as my fingers can type, I'll be writing something, even if no one else will ever read it. I enjoy writing this blog, even though I'm finding it increasingly difficult to carve out time to do it.
  It would seem that I have the best of both worlds. I finished the degree I set out to obtain as a third grader. I can still be an author, and thanks to technology I can write any time, anywhere. Technological advancements have made it possible for my work to be read without being sold to a publisher or put into book form. I'm getting everything I want.
  So what's the problem? In a nutshell, it's this: I'm too nice. I would love to be the kind of blogger that gets thousands of "likes" and "shares" every time they put up a new post. Unfortunately, I'm not the kind of person who feels comfortable ranting about this topic or that news story, forcing my opinions and beliefs onto other people without a second thought. I don't deliberately hurt other people's feelings or sensationalize an issue that I know will cause pain and controversy. When I hurt someone's feelings, even a total stranger, I genuinely feel bad. It bothers me, sometimes even after I've apologized and they've moved on. That said, I am genetically hard wired to be sarcastic, which means that my sense of humor is not for everyone. When I find myself in an uncomfortable situation, often my immediate response is to make a joke, and that doesn't always go over so well.
  Is it because I'm a lady, a born and raised genuine Southern belle who was always encouraged to "be nice" and keep up appearances? Is it because I'm just a decent person and a fiercely loyal friend? Maybe it's the fact that years and motherhood have turned me into an adult, and I can see that the things I say and do affect the people I love. Perhaps all these things together keep me from being the type of blogger whose audience both sings their praises and fills their inboxes with insults and death threats. Anyone who is involved in creating anything will have their share of critics, but to be told daily by perfect strangers to "go kill yourself" because of something you wrote is not for me. My skin just isn't that thick. I can't be the person who offends my friends and family members in the pursuit of more readers. So from my little blog...you can expect more of the same. Funny stories about life and motherhood and how I try to make it all work together. If you're still here, I'm glad to have you! 

In Honor of Carmen

  I had hoped to return blogging with a few light-hearted paragraphs on how wonderful our little piece of the world has been since I last posted. Unfortunately, as is so often the case, life had other plans. Instead I come to you with a heavy heart, grieving for a child that I never knew, hurting for a family that I'd never heard of until a couple of weeks ago. Today, what is by all accounts one of the sweetest families in the world will lay their precious 12 year old daughter to rest. A brother will have to face life without his sister. Two parents will wake up and somehow find the strength to bury their child. A wife and mother just like me will, for the rest of her life, have to find the motivation to draw one more breath and put one foot in front of the other. Friends and family will be forced to find a way to endure pain that will at times seem unbearable.
 You might be asking, as incredibly sad as this is, why is it so important to me? Why would I take it so personally? Have you heard the expression, "there but by the grace of God go I?" The loss of this precious angel saddens me so because it very easily could have been one of mine.
 While attending the same horse show as my 8 year old, a beautiful, innocent, fun-loving child named Carmen Smith fell from an ATV and sustained a head injury that ultimately ended her life. A simple turn of the head to yell, "You missed me!" at another child who threw a water balloon at her caused her to lose her balance and fall to the pavement. As awful as that is, why does it haunt me? Because my three kids begged me to participate in the fun...and I said, "No."
 Children riding around in groups on golf carts and ATVs throwing water balloons at one another is a long-standing tradition at this particular show. My kids have heard their friends talk about it for years. On the night this sweet child was injured, my babies begged me to go play with their friends, and their mean mommy said no. I have to tell you, I've never been so glad that I was a mean, overprotective, killjoy of a mom.
  My heart hurts for every single person that is connected to this tragic event in any way. As a parent, I know my own children would be inconsolable if they had played any sort of a role, however unintentional, in the death of a friend. I pray every night that the other children will be comforted, and that their parents will know how to love them through this pain.
  Everyone wants to look for the good in tragedies like this. I admit it, I do as well. As a direct result of this horrible event, sweet little Carmen Smith has touched so many lives. Her organs will help to save five other lives. As a direct result of her death, a 10 year old child in New York will receive a new heart. Her mother, who is obviously an incredibly strong woman herself, has shared that Carmen's advice to others was to be kind, help a stranger, and keep a Godly attitude. Pretty impressive advice from a 12 year old kid. She has reminded me and many others that every life is precious, no matter how brief. I am also reminded that our lives can be shattered in a second, that the happiness that we cling to is so very fragile.
  Today, because of Carmen, I will hug my babies a little tighter. I will snuggle up to my little one and breathe in the scent of Johnson's baby shampoo in her hair. I will appreciate and enjoy the moments I get to spend with my children, even the ones that aren't so pleasant. I will thank God for every smile, every hug, and every kiss on the cheek. I will drink in the words, "I love you, Mommy" and store the sound away in my memory forever.
  I've thought a great deal lately about choices. As parents, we're faced with a multitude of them every single day. So in honor of Carmen Smith, today I will choose to be kind. I will choose to help a stranger, and I will choose to keep a Godly attitude. Fly high, sweet Carmen. There are lots of great horses waiting for you.

Test Post

This is a test. Only a test! I finally got a laptop. My hope is that it will enable me to post more often. I honestly didn't realize I had been away for so long! Trust me, my lack of posts does not indicate a lack of material. I can't wait to update those of you who are still hanging in there with me on everything that has been going on.