Football night in America

I just don't know what it is about that ball.  That football.  Football is America's sport.

It's almost funny.  Our government might just shut down in a few days.  Today, for just a few hours,  I forgot about all that.  I was (am) stressed about the possibility of missing a mortgage payment.  The hubs and I, we take great pride in our credit score.  Eight years now we've been paying the mortgage - more that what is due and continually on time.  Congress is confused, so it would seem - but we're not.  We know what matters.

Russell Wilson matters.  Every play we're Russellin.

Today I thank God for football and the Seattle Seahawks.  They gave us a reprieve from the daily concerns, the constant fear and worry over what the future may hold.  Watching the Seattle Seahawks today we forgot...for a minute, about the fears of the future.

I don't know what it is about football. Honestly does it really matter?  I found myself - literally - jumping up and down, yelling and clapping my hands in the middle of my living room today.  It was fantastic.  I was...for a moment...nothing more than a fan.

We all need to just stop our lives every now and then, and become simply a fan.  It was so funny, Paige's friend heard us yelling our heads off and came to the sliding glass door only to laugh at us.  He's probably 10 years old.  He giggled, made a pump fake action and said through the glass..."Football?".  I said "FOOTBALL!  GO SEAHAWKS!".  He laughed and said "I play tackle!".  Good for you kid.  You go play tackle.  3rd grade?  4th maybe?  No matter.  He has a love...it's called football.  He plays tackle, and he'll tell you so.

I think football is the only thing we have here in America...the only thing that we can count on.  The only constant.  Yeah yeah there's baseball (how about Mariano Rivera...what a freaking winner!) but football - football is America's sport.  I'm grateful for the chance that I am given, once a week, to just SHUT UP.  Shut up the computer, shut down the phone, shut off the smartphone and become absorbed in the game.  For 15 minutes, times four...I'm enraptured.  I'm crazy.  I'm a fool, freak, Seahawk fan...and it feels AMAZING.

I love my Hawks.

I love to let go.

I'm a lucky lucky girl.  I'll take what I can get.  Sorry Schaub...you did your best.  You just can't beat the 12th man.

Every play we're Russellin...

MUAH!!

#GOHAWKS

Becca...and the dirty dawg.

Sooooo, my five year old is in week three of Kindergarten, Thursday is library day.  James loves library day.  Last week was his first week - he brought home a non-fiction book all about Uranus.  I read it to him before bed last Thursday.  I don't know what it is about that planet - but it's just an awkward read.  Maybe if I could just figure out the proper pronunciation it would have been easier to get through.  But I still glided through it with grace.  Or not.  At least not in my own head.  Whatever.  He was blind to anything remotely awkward, because he loves his mother and truly I can do no wrong.

It really feels good to have someone in whose eyes you can do no wrong.  

It's a most phenomenal feeling.

Well TODAY was library day.  I didn't get a chance to check out what book he brought home because immediately after school was a dental appointment for Paige that truly turned into a genuine crisis for her of epically terrifying proportions.  She has a tooth that has been bothering her.  It has a cavity, and they wanted to pull it.  What a freaking ridiculously awful experience.  Through no fault of the dentist, it was just Paige, genuinely scared and working herself up beyond the point of no return.  Let's just say...laughing gas didn't make her laugh, and she didn't wind up having the tooth pulled after all.  They sent me home with Tylenol w/ codeine for her.  REALLY?  CODEINE?  I mean, I appreciate that none of us want to see her in pain.  And they clarified it was only for bedtime.  But tonight at an hour before bed I said "Hey Paige how's your tooth?"  she said "Fine - at least it's not numb anymore!".  So yeah - no codeine for you, kiddo.  I'll hang onto it, it's possible the tooth will get worse before it falls out on it's own  (it's a baby tooth luckily) but might be nice to have the high velocity pain killer in my back pocket.  

SOOOOOOO - came home from the dental appointment and it was 4:45.  James had 2 days of homework to complete, Paige had to finish today's.  Tomorrow is Friday so really there was no more room to wiggle in regards to the homework situation.  It is now DUE.  

I frantically set to work to get all the workings of taco Thursday in order.  It wasn't until just before dinner, as I was putting James' completed homework into his homework folder, that I reached into his backpack and had a fantastic flashback to my younger years.

It was truly FANTASTIC.

He had checked out "No Roses for Harry".

 

I squealed LOL - it was technically Don's turn to read to James tonight but I absolutely vetoed that whole situation.

 

When I was a kid, this was one of my favorite books of ALL TIME.  I love Harry the dirty dog - and James actually owns the original "Harry the Dirty Dog" book.  Thanks to me, the mom who can do no wrong.

I had a hell of a day.  Dealt with housecleaning, a work messup that I had to fix, was a bit blindsided with a right hook to the heart by a family member...and then the dentist thing with my poor girl Paige.  

Tonight, I needed Harry.  I needed my Zilla man and my Harry the Dirty Dog.

Laying there reading this book to James tonight before bed, I was happy.  I was relaxed, I was with my number one boy, and I was transformed back to the time when all that mattered was Harry and that ugly sweater from Grandma.  It helped me remember how important perspective really is.  

Sometimes, we feel like we just can't pull off whatever the right next move

is.
Sometimes, we feel like we've made too many wrong last moves to ever set

the future on a proper course.

A moment of peace with an innocent child that loves us...puts a questionable day back on track.  It did for me, anyways.  I am me, I pretend for noone.  I hide nothing.  I am who I am.  Love it or leave it.  Luckily those that matter most to me love it.  It just took a bedtime story to remember what matters most.

Thank you Lord, for the family I've been blessed with.  Every last one of them.  They have so much to teach, and I still have so much to learn.

Doing What You Love...

We do what we can with what we have.  Yes we do.

 

Yes, it is truly that simple.

I was sad today.  I woke up with an incredibly sad and heavy heart.  After having watched hours and hours of testimony and evidence introduction, I was more bummed probably than the next "white guy" - about the ultimate Zimmerman verdict.  My heart was (and really, still is) quite heavy - wondering what this whole thing says about the state of our societal psyche, and the fact that everything I wish (and thought) we were - unfortunately - we're just not.  I thought we had come so far as a society - but it's simply not true.  That concept truly plagues my heart.  No really.  Brings tears.  It's even worse when I have people in my life - close friends and family too- that I love SO very much - who disagree with my view on the case.  It's hard to just ignore the outcry and the outrage and sit in silence in efforts to avoid confrontation.  So yes - today I was (and am) just sad.   I really just wanted to sit on my ass all day and play computer games.  I wanted to watch James play Diego on Wii and just read my Kindle and basically wallow in self pity over the future of my nation...and do nothing.  I knew however, that business wise,  I have an important event coming up in Oregon at the end of the week, and I need bath bombs shipped to arrive by Thursday.  So I had to get off my butt and get to work.

BEST FREAKING DECISION EVAR.

Newsflash: I can't control anything in the world, can't control anything on this planet, but myself.  I can love those that I love, and if they don't agree with me on political fronts it's OK- because I love them and don't really care about those things that are out of our control anyways.   I can't make decisions for people.  Damn.  I can't deliver a verdict.  I can't prosecute.  I can't defend.  What I CAN do - is be me.  Live me.  Just do my own thing.  So here I go.  Doing me.  Being me.

So today - knew I had a deadline, I begrudgingly dragged out my essential oils and my other various ingredients for bath bombs...and I started up ye olde faithful classic rock playlist.  Funny how music can change a state of mind.  NO really.  Hear me out.  The kiddos and hubs and I - we listened with sheer joy to Pink Floyd, Supertramp and yes (dare I say it) even REO Speedwagon.  That REO Speedwagon thing - was all about Don.  He said I should add REO Speedwagon to my classic rock playlist.  I said "Oh Hell NO."  I said classic rock was Pink Floyd and Boston and Steely Dan.  Ultimately he won (and it's ok because REO Speedwagon kicks ass).  

Holy freakin' crow is this blog as much of a ramble as it feels?  Well here's the bottom line.  I begrudgingly brought out all my bath bomb making STUFF...and I created.  I used my own hands and I made bath bombs that will touch people.  Somebody somewhere will buy my concoction of lavender and lemongrass, and even if only for a moment or 20 - it will make their day.  It might soothe a sore set of muscles or it might just make someones bathroom smell phenomenal for an hour or two.  I do what I can for those I can do something for.  

We all have the ability to assist.  We all have the ability to make someones life better.  Be it - a cup of coffee and a hug - a bath bomb - a simple smile.  We do what we do for those we can do something for.  A phone call.  A smile and a "hey girl you'll be ok".

Society as a whole, I feel, truly - is incredibly messed up.  BUT - *WE* are not society as a whole.  We are one.  We are one person each.  One person is all it takes to make one difference for one other person.  

Be the difference.  Make a bath bomb.  Give a hug.  Smile at a stranger.  Give someone a right of  way.

Listen to good music.  

It makes all the difference in the world.

We are one.

Worth Dying For

 
I got up with Don this morning at 5.  Since summer vacation started for the kids, and with me working nights, I've been making it a habit to let him get up with the alarm at 5am (5:18 by the time the snooze button is done) and I have been staying in bed in the morning until sometime between 7:30 and 8:30...depending on how late the kids want to let me sleep.  One thing though that I've lost by doing things that way is my quiet peaceful time to think in the morning.  Before the sun rises, before the kids wake up...when it's just my coffee and me.  This morning was nice.  Paige slept until 6:15.

*It was nice to be able to choose when to get out of bed and what to do with my morning.*

Speaking of summer vacation, I really am enjoying it for the most part.  There's some bickering amongst the kiddos, which one would expect of course with siblings.  It's nice though to have them both out of school together at the same time, I look forward to sending them to school at the same time in the fall, to the SAME school!  :)

*It's nice to be able to choose to send them to school on the military base, and it's a blessing that both of my children can go to school - not just my son because he's male.*

I'm not entirely sure what we'll do today.  I have to get the house straightened up and I do work tonight, so probably nothing too strenuous.  Maybe we'll go for a walk or ride our bikes to the park.

*It's nice to be able to walk down the street in the neighborhood.  Freely and peacefully.*

Are you sensing a theme yet?  Maybe something to do with freedom?  The little everyday freedoms that we take for granted - the ones that we might not even realize are there.  Those little ones that are so easy to forget about.

So back to the beginning...I got up with Don this morning.  I sat down at my computer to catch up with some headlines, since I have somehow not watched the news for the greater part of a week.  The first headline that jumped out at me was about 4 bodies found in the Arizona desert.  "Great." I thought to myself - "...more murder.".  I clicked on the article to see if perhaps it was some mob hit or interesting mystery find, out in the middle of nowhere.  While it *was* out in the middle of nowhere - it was no mystery.  The article stated:  "It is probable that they are immigrants attempting to cross into the U.S." - and initial indications pointed to exposure as cause of death.  They were 70 miles north of the Arizona border.  These people trekked 70 miles through the desert - to their deaths no less - just vying for freedom.  They just wanted to get to America.

How many people spend their lives just wanting to get to America?  How many people die trying?

As an American I know I take SO much for granted.  I don't know how it feels to be told that I can't worship God.  My God or ANY God.  I don't know what it's like to live under the thumb of communist leadership.  I don't know what it's like to grow up in the trenches of child labor and sex trade.  I don't know how it feels to be told I can't go to school.  I don't know what it feels like to work in a cramped sweat shop 18 hours a day.  I don't know what it feels like to go hungry.  

I've never been told that I can't follow my dreams.  I've never been told that I can't have them.

I sit here in my 3 bedroom house, with my two dogs and a cat, two kids and a guinea pig.  I sit here this morning drinking my coffee, blogging on my computer (with my non government censored internet), planning my day as I see fit, to do whatever I want to do with it.  Because I can.  Because I have the freedom to do so.

There's an answer to the immigration issue, and I will be the first to tell you I have no idea what it is.  But one thing I do believe - everyone should have the right to try to make it here.  Everyone should have a right to freedom.  I know it's complicated, I know the answers aren't easy.  I know for a fact that there are many people out there that literally hate immigrants just because of the way they look or the way they smell or the fact that they don't speak very good english - or no English at all.  But who are we to judge?  What right do WE have to say "You are worthless, you don't belong here, get off my street and get out of MY country."  MY country. 

The following verse is inscribed on our Statue of Liberty - the symbol of our country:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free;
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless,
Tempest-tossed to me
I lift my lamp beside the golden door..."

As far as I see it, everyone deserves a chance at freedom.

Freedom worth dying for.

The Good Stuff

What a day! 

So they say, the bad things you do will always come back to haunt you, and never truly go away.  As if there's some big conspiracy in the stars to make sure you (I) never forget your (my) mistakes.  I can speak to this and say it is true.  I have done things in my life that I am still paying for.  Mistakes that never go away, choices that resonate through the years.  Don't get me wrong, I've made some AMAZINGLY wonderful choices, and for those choices my life is astonishing...but there have been a handful of truly rotten choices I've made too.  The kind of choices that never disappear.  Skeletons in the proverbial closet.  Sometimes when I try to reflect on my life, when people tell me I'm such a good person, when they say I've impacted them in an infinitely positive way, there is always something in the back of my mind that remembers the things I've done wrong and the people I've hurt along the way.  There's always that little voice in the back of my mind that says "I'm a good person...ha that's what YOU think! If you only knew how horribly I treated person XYZ 15 years ago...".  And it's funny, these things never go away.  The thoughts are always there and nagging when someone tries to give me a reminder of why I should love myself.  It's almost as if I'm in this paradoxical struggle to define my own worth and impact to this world and the people in it.

Well let me tell you something.  Tonight I learned that it truly does go both ways.  God loves me, and for that reason He makes sure that every now and then there is a surprising reminder of something good.  I love when He does that.

There's a family on our street with twin boys.  Don has known their Dad for years and years and years.  And years.  They've been in the navy together and known each other since nearly the beginning of time. Or something like that.

Their boys are 8, James is 5.  The boys and James became fast friends.  I was honestly shocked the first time the twins came over to play.  They were so polite, and kind, and respectful.  Quite different from some of the other children in the neighborhood that have come to play.  Don't get me wrong, there are quite a few great kids in our neighborhood, but there are also some that don't seem to have the guidance at home that would teach them what manners and goodness from the start are all about.  It's not the kids' fault that they don't have the leadership they deserve, but it's sad and difficult for me as a Mom to bring these wayward ones into my home and try to start them from scratch, while at the same time expecting more from my own than I expect from their new found friends.  It's not impossible, but definitely difficult.  So back to the twins.  Great kids.  James has been playing with them for a few weeks now, and they're a great influence.  So when they came over tonight and invited James to a sleepover in their tent...I was a hot mess.  This would be James' first official sleepover.  Me under our roof and him under another.  Scary much?  Well duh, Mom.  I said "I don't know, James doesn't really like to go to sleep" (we still battle).  The reply from this sweet boy was "That's ok, we stay up late!  We don't have to go to bed until niiiiine FITTY.".  Seriously cuter than you can even imagine.  So I took the only out that I had and said "I have to talk to his Dad before I can say yes to anything.".  So then they mentioned it to James and I knew I was done for.  Don came home from work and before I knew it, we were committed.  James was going to a sleepover.  I wasn't ready and I said as much...but I didn't really protest, because James was SOOOO excited, and hey they do live on the same street.  The same SIDE of the street even.  So I called their Mom, who I'd actually not met face to face (or so I thought) and made plans to bring my boy and his sleeping bag over at 7pm.  Next thing I knew...it was 7pm.  James and I went down to their house, sleeping bag and flashlight, pillows and snacks in hand.  He was so excited.  The boys' mom opened the door and was so very welcoming.  James and the boys took off outside to the tent, and I stood in the kitchen and watched, while I chatted things up with their mom for a bit.  We brought up how our husbands had known each other for years.  She said (here's where it gets good) - "I've met you before...".  I was clueless.  She said "At Mrs...what was her name...".  In the military world, a "Mrs." is an officers wife, in our case (the nuke world) I knew it would have to be either the Captain or the RO (Reactor Officer).   To make it a little easier, I giggled and said "Which command?" and she said "The Lincoln!".  To which I replied - "I was ombudsman for the Lincoln for 3 years, that's probably where you know me from!".   This amazingly warm and gracious woman then proceeded to tell me about when her husband made the rank of Chief.  That's kind of a big deal in the navy.  Things have a tendency to change once they hit Chief (E-7).   Each year, when the new Chief results come out (at least, back when tradition meant something), all the current Chief, Sr. Chief and Master Chief wives would generally create an opportunity for the "new" Chiefs' wives to get together for a pow-wow and what-the-hell-is-next kind of meeting.  She remembered me from that meeting.  Don was already a Chief, her husband had just made it, and she was new and a little bewildered, maybe even overwhelmed.  She said to me "I remember you - you spoke to me.  You invited me over but we had so much going on with the adoptions..."  They were in the process of adopting two of their 4.  They're great people.  What struck me the hardest was the way she said "You spoke to me."   She remembered that moment - it couldn't have been much more than maybe 10 minutes of our lives.  Years ago.  See, it's hard sometimes for people to understand the bond Chiefs share, the unspoken changes that traditionally come about from a "simple advancement".  The fact that she remembered me, during that tumultuous time of "initiation" into the Goat Locker (a Chief thing), and the new found and again, unspoken expectations of a Chiefs wife...well it can be a bit overwhelming.  But she remembered me, from years ago, as someone that had reached out to her, to help, to assist, to guide and to just be a shoulder.  That was huge.  That IS huge.  And that's something that I will always remember as some of "the good stuff".  The good karma coming back to haunt me.  Maybe it'll be one of those things that I can use in the future to combat the "If you only knew how I treated so and so 15 years ago" moments.  I made a difference for someone.  I made a difference for someone who is amazing and beautiful and real.  I made a difference.  Maybe there's some good in me after all.

And with that being said, I've finally renamed my blog.  Caffeine and Chaos is now officially A Lighthouse in the Storm - because really that's what writing is to me.  But I guess I'll save that explanation for another blog, another day.

Now THAT, my friends...is the good stuff.  Sorry if I rambled a bit - but I suppose even the good stuff deserves some rambling every now and again.

We Can Help

 

 I'm just really sad today.  Thinking about the recent tragedy in Moore, Oklahoma, and the devastated lives and families.  I'm thinking about the parents that sent their children to school yesterday morning, kissed them goodbye and will never again hear them say "I love you Mom!".  I don't know if maybe I'm just getting old, maybe a little bit wise, maybe both.  It hurts, knowing these people had their lives ripped away from them - and for WHAT?  For nothing.  For no reason.  They did nothing but live their life.  It's so scary, how much of what happens to us is so completely out of our control.  We think we've got it under control.  We do our best to live a good life, to be responsible, to raise our kids up right, to teach them how to respect themselves and others, to love them.  And then...bam.  Game over.  I see the footage of the destruction, and I can't explain the feelings.  It's empty.  It's confused.  It's hopeless.  It's broken.  So these people now have no home, no family, their lives are utterly shattered and they can do nothing, they must simply take one minute, one hour at a time, and pick up the pieces.  But we can help.  We can help them.

Even from the comfort of our own home, we can help.  When she was young, my Mom received a piece of advice that she has passed on to me.  When disaster strikes, when things happen that you least expect, when your world is suddenly torn apart - she says to look for God in the aftermath.  Good will come out of this, look for the helpers.  

Better yet, be one.

Here are a few ways we can help:

• Follow this link to donate to the Salvation Army Oklahoma Tornado Relief Fund:  https://donate.salvationarmyusa.org/uss/eds/aok

• To make a tax deductible donation to the Regional Food Bank of Oklahoma, go to www.regionalfoodbank.org or text FOOD to 32333 to give $10 to relief efforts.  

• The Pet Food Pantry of OKC is offering dog food, cat food, leashes, collars, food bowls, etc to those in need.  To make a donation please visit:  www.petfoodpantryokc.org 

• United Way of Central Oklahoma’s Disaster Relief Fund is open.  Donations may be made online at www.unitedwayokc.org or by mail to United Way of Central Oklahoma, P.O. Box 837, Oklahoma City, OK  73101 with notation for May Tornado Relief.  

• Contributions to the Moore & Shawnee Tornado Relief Fund can be made securely online at www.TulsaCF.org. Donations can also be mailed to TCF offices at 7030 S. Yale, Suite 600, Tulsa, OK, 74136.

• Oklahoma Baptist Disaster Relief has deployed at least 80 volunteers to respond.  Tax-deductible donations can be made to the BGCO's Disaster Relief ministry online or call (405) 942-3800. You may also send checks to: BGCO Attn: Disaster Relief 3800 N. May Ave. Oklahoma City, OK 73112.

 

Consistency fail!!

I've discovered I'm going to have to put the photo project on hold.  I just don't have what it takes to maintain the consistency, think of something clever, take a photo AND post it every day.  I don't know why I always try to do more than I have the capacity to do!  Time management is not now and has never been my forte.  Maybe after the ball season is over and the kids don't have activities 3-4 nights a week :)  

At any rate - I'm merely putting it on pause - the project is fun, I'll get back to it (just not today).

I have a bad habit of overextending myself, almost like I'm subconsciously afraid to have any time with nothing to do (aka relaxation).  I'm not sure where that character flaw came from, but putting this project on hold is me making a concerted effort to change what I do to myself on a daily basis ha!   This is me making my life better...and it seems SO minor and so small, just one little project being put on hold - but I'm taking control, and taking control of my own time is the first step to success.  In MY book anyways  :)