Unexpected Visitors

Will's mom, Martha, passed away when he was 8 years old.  Her family lived in West Virginia and Will lived in Oklahoma.  It made keeping in contact with Martha's family difficult.  Will said the last time he saw his aunts was when he was 16 years old.  We've talked about visiting them when the girls were old enough to remember it.  Two of his aunts planned a visit last fall, but things came up and they didn't make it.

Last month we got a call on a Tuesday saying that Will's Aunt Gingy and Uncle Konk were coming for a visit.  They were stopping in Tulsa first to visit Will's brother, Patrick, and would be at our house on Monday.  We were very excited, but I admit I was a bit nervous.  People that I had never met before were staying at my house!  I wanted to be a good hostess and keep them entertained.  

I had nothing to worry about.  They were totally laid back.  Their only agenda was to spend time with us.  To get to know us.  To catch up on the last 20 years. 

It was a great couple days.  They parked their camper in the driveway and we just hung out.  The only place we went was the neighborhood Dairy Queen to get some ice cream.  Gingy played dolls with the girls and read them books.  She even helped them clean their room a few times.  She, of course, made everything fun.  After she left and I made them clean their room by themselves, Taylor said, "I wish Gingy were here." 

I loved hearing remarks like, "They have Martha's eyes", and "Martha had hair like that."  I enjoyed asking questions about Martha and hearing stories from when they were kids.  I felt like even though I never got to meet Will's mom, I got a good glimpse of who she was by spending time with her sister.

Konk (Frank) reminded me so much of my dad.  When he was tired of chatting and needed a break he just went out to his camper to take a nap or watch TV.  He talked about NASCAR and drank milk with his bologna sandwich.   These similarities made it very easy to get to know this stranger.

Actually, it never really felt like I was with strangers.  They were family from the very first hug to the last goodbye tears that were shed.  The girls still talk about them all the time and we can't wait for our next visit.

I now look forward to meeting Martha's last surviving sister, Genie.  Hopefully sooner than later.

Peach Pickin'

A few weeks ago we went to a local peach orchard and picked 27 pounds of peaches.  Yes, that is a lot of peaches.  Somehow, they were all used up in one and a half weeks, though.  We should have picked more.  It makes me wish I had a large peach tree in my backyard.  They were so delicious.  Maybe when we move to a farm.  Then I'll get my peach tree.

On this day, like most days this summer, it was well over a hundred degrees.  We were hot.  Will taught the girls this neat trick.  I'll be interested to see if they ever have drinking water in their cups again.

We made freezer jam and I also had great plans to make a cobbler, but I just didn't have enough peaches left.  We froze some whole for winter baking, maybe I'll just use those.  We also cut some up and froze them for later.

Funny story:
My Grandma made these incredible peaches that she froze.  I mean so good that I wrote about them to be read at her funeral.  That good.  I wanted to make some with some of our surplus peaches.  I emailed my Aunt Sheila and asked if she knew Grandma's recipe.  Here was her response.

Just a little secret…..I’m the one who always put up Mama’s peaches.

Imagine my shock! I called the rest of my family to reveal the deeply kept secret and everybody had a good laugh.  Oh, Grandma.  I can hear her now, "Well, I never said I made all those."  Well, she also never told us she didn't, either.

Our picking time was almost over and I realized I hadn't taken any pictures.  I asked Emma to pick a peach so I could take her picture.  She said, "I'll just pretend.  I'm tired of picking peaches."

 

Last Day of Preschool

The girls with their teacher gift.  Super cheap and cute!

Today was the last day of preschool for Emma and Taylor.  They had a performance and each got a certificate.  I was feeling a bit sad.  Not because they were finishing preschool, but because that means its the beginning of kindergarten.

The girls had been singing the songs at home all week, so I was very excited for the program.  Please forgive the bad pictures.  They are very important in the retelling of the events.

 The children entered and the teachers passed out shakers and spoons.  Emma is on the front row in the yellow dress and Taylor is on the second row in the blue dress, behind the boy in green.

They started singing and Emma immediately started crying.  Very dramatically.

She refused to sing, do actions, or stand when it was her turn.

I was horrified.  But at least only a few people knew she was mine.  Until the song was over.  She then started yelling for me.  If only I were small enough to hide under the chair.

Her teacher dismissed her to sit with me.  She came down the stairs, couldn't find me, and yelled because she couldn't get through the rows of chairs and baby carriers that were blocking her way.  I had to stand up.  Everybody at that point knew she was mine. 

She sat on my lap and continued to cry and talk loudly.  She said, "Everybody keeps looking at me!"  I don't think she realized the commotion she was causing.  We wanted to take her out, but we still had one child singing on the stage!  They finished singing and I was able to hear most of it.  It was really very cute. 

They then passed out certificates by calling the children's names.  We prepared Emma by telling her they would call her name and she could just go from her seat.  She was ready.  They went in alphabetic order.  She should have been first, but instead they called Taylor.

They didn't call Emma.  They just gave hers to Taylor too.  Emma was devastated.  We finally told her she could go wait on the edge of the stage to show the teacher she was ready.  She didn't stay on the edge of the stage.  She ran and interrupted the kids who were getting their certificates and stood in their pictures.  Could this get much worse?   Yes.  The teacher got her certificate back from Taylor and called Emma's name.  Several people cheered for her.  This would make things better, right?  Nope.  This is Emma getting her certificate.

A big thank you to my friend, Karie, for catching this very special moment.

They dismissed the rest of the kids to sit with their parents to watch a slide show with pictures from the year and sappy music.  During the first song Emma said, "This sad music is what made me sad to start with."  I then knew what was happening.  Emma was sad that school was over.  She was going to miss her friends.  She was going to miss her teachers.

When the program was over, her teacher confirmed what I was thinking.  She said Emma had been sobbing that morning saying that she would miss school. 

Emma feels things very deeply, but doesn't know how to express her emotions with words or actions.  I've been working really hard on this with her.   Hopefully she figures it out before teenage years, or else we're in for a lot of trouble. 

I can't help but remember the last day of sixth grade.  My teacher had just finished reading "Oh, The Places You'll Go", by Dr. Seuss.  I was crying so loudly in the bathroom that my fourth grade teacher came in to see if everything was alright.  I, too, was a pretty emotional child.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day - A few days late!  We had a garage sale Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, so we were all pretty worn out on actual Mother's Day.  I chose to spend the afternoon with us all taking a nap.  It was wonderful.  Yes, my kids were still awake at 10:00 last night, but those two hours in the afternoon were Heavenly. 

I wanted to take a moment to tell you about my mother.  I'm doing it in a poem.  That's what she said she wanted every Mother's Day growing up.

My mom is an incredible woman.
Seriously, one of the best.
She's a woman I'd love to be like,
She taught me to work and to rest.

My mom is accepting and loving.
She welcomes everyone into her home.
He listening ear is always available.
Far from her, I never would roam.

My mom is amazing in the kitchen.
Her chocolate chip cookies can't be beat.
Her meatloaf and fried chicken - mmmm.
And her chili has just the right heat.

My mom lead by example with money.
She showed how important it was to save.
You can find good things wherever.
Now garage sales and thrift stores I crave.

My mom loves the Lord deeply,
He puts a song in her heart.
She passed that song down to me,
Teaching me God's love from the start.

I love you, Mom!  Happy Mother's Day!

Butler Christmas

I have mentioned before that I am a deeply traditional person.  There is one tradition that I'd like to share because it is my favorite.  It is a Christmas celebration with my maternal grandmother's family - The Butlers. 

It started years ago, when my mom was a kid.  My grandma's brothers and all of their families get together and have a party that always brings me to tears.  It used to be at my great grandma's house, but when she passed away, it moved to my mom's Uncle Keith's house - it has been there ever since.

We start with lunch.  Its loud, crowded, and chaotic, but I love it.  I love getting to talk with cousins, uncles, and aunts.   I love hearing the laughter from family as they recount old stories, tell bad jokes, and watch the kids play.  I have warm fuzzies just thinking about it!

After lunch we do a talent show.  Its mostly the kids, and now the grandkids, but a few "adults" join in occasionally.  There is singing and playing instruments.  We've even seen some sign language and some dancing. 

Every man in the room follows by singing "We Three Kings", but they substitute "three" with the actual number of men.  The talent ends by us singing "The Hallelujah Chorus".  We sing while we watch an old VHS tape of my Uncle Ralph accompanying us on the piano.  Its a real treat when he's there and we get to listen to him in person. 

Someone reads the Christmas story from the Bible, we remember any family members we have lost during the year, and we close with a prayer.  Pure sweetness. 

We then have an adult gift exchange game and the little ones open gifts.  That's it.  Its the same every year.  Every single year.  It could not be any more perfect.

We'll be stopping in Oklahoma City for this celebration on Saturday.  I'm looking forward to posting new pictures of my kids singing.  They've been practicing for weeks. :)

I'm leaving you with the earliest picture of me that I could find from this great tradition.  I know there are more, but they're all at my parents' house.  Go ahead and notice the sweet mullet and matching sweatsuit with my shirt tucked in.

The Gift of Music

I was laying in bed last night thinking about my favorite Christmas presents.  You know, the ones I actually remember opening, being excited about, and using for years to come.  The only ones that come to mind are as follows.  New Kids on the Block tape when I was 8,  sterling silver necklace with music notes on it when I was around 10,  a radio/CD/tape player when I was 14, and a radio/CD player for my car when I was 17.

I don't still have the tape, but I do have the same album on a CD.  I don't still have the car stereo, it went with the car, but I do still use the other stereo and the necklace.

I have received a lot of gifts in my life (I can't believe I'm 31), but remember very few (which reminds me that what I give my kids really isn't that important).  I believe that the items I remember were important/special for one connecting reason: music. 

I think that music is one of the most wonderful gifts that God has given.  I don't think there is a moment in my life that passes without the involvement of music.  I like all music.  I think each style has an appropriate time and place.  I think music often says things that we just can't put into words.  Most importantly, music is my preferred method of worshiping my savior.  I relate to that little drummer boy.  "I have no gift to bring, to lay before the King.  I played my drum for him.  I played my best for him.  Then, he smiled at me.  Me and my drum."

A lot of people HATE Christmas music, and I understand why, but as for me, I LOVE it!  I get one month - ONE MONTH people, to listen to music that will be put back on the shelf for a year.  I, and other Christmas music lovers, have to take full advantage of this opportunity.

SO...I guess this post has a few messages and reminders in it.  Make your gifts special and memorable.  They don't have to be expensive, fancy, or even material objects at all.  They could be your time, your services, handmade, or bought, just make sure they fill a purpose and matter.  Really THINK about the person you're giving to.

Also, give Christmas music a chance.  Some people really dig it.

Fun at the Fair

I love the fair.  In fact, that might be an understatement.  I love, love, love the fair.  I have since I was a kid.  I loved the excitement that built inside me as I watched the fair come together the week before.  When I was younger, the first Friday night was free so that's when my family went.  I would go later in the week and ride rides with friends.

Now, since I don't live in Hutchinson anymore, I have to fit the entire fair experience into one or two visits.  Its fun, but its exhausting.  This year I went on Friday night with two very good friends from high school.  I love these two friends  and wish we could get together more than once a year, but that's what happens when you become an adult.

We still aren't totally adult-like, though. : )

Saturday we spent the day at the fair with my family.  We did a lot of stuff and when I got home I still thought of several things that we missed!  I guess I needed three days.

The kids made puppets in the DO ART building.

 

The girls practiced their screwdriving skills in a construction areas for kids.

Looked at the scarecrow entries.  This is Flynn and Rapunzel.

The girls rode the ponies.

We watched the pig races.

Aunt Sarah got all the kids' faces painted.

We got tired and headed for home.

The following list is full of highlights that didn't get documented by pictures.

*Fried cookie dough - absolutely delicious.

*Riding the sky ride.  Its a ski-lift, without snow.

*Overhearing a conversation about how tasty the gizzards would be in a specific large chicken.

*The magic show that my sister thought was the worst magic show ever, but Taylor thought was pretty cool.

*Learning about dairy cows while watching a milking demonstration.

Mr. Right ***Warning***This is a mushy one***

I met my husband, Will, at church when I was in college.  I liked him long before we ever dated.  I would see him in the hallway and my heart would beat faster.  He would talk to me and I would feel butterflies in my stomach.

Last Sunday I had to be at church a few hours before he and the girls.  My morning was really busy and, I can't believe it, but my family had not even crossed my mind.  I was going about my business and I saw him turn the corner.  My heart started beating faster and I felt butterflies in my stomach.  I know this is sappy, but I enjoyed being surprised by those feelings.  He's a cutie!  And now, he's all mine.

This picture was taken on my birthday 10 years ago when we were dating.

Father's Day

In case some of you have missed it, here is quick reminder - tomorrow is Father's Day.  I thought I'd take a minute to share some of the things I love about my Dad!

My dad was tough, but when it came to his girls, he was a big softy.  I guess that's true of most dads with daughters, though.  We could pretty much talk him into anything.

My dad was fun.  All of my favorite pictures of him are action pictures.  Ones were we are being thrown in the air, chased from under the coffee table, riding on his back, etc. 

My dad cared about other people.  He often says that my mom was the reason we helped so many people out, but my dad was a big reason too.  He fixed cars for single women, gave away pieces of furniture to people who needed them.  One of his nephews even lived with us for a couple years.

My dad is great with people.  My dad makes anyone feel like they are part of the family and like they've know each other for years, even if they've just met.  He can also talk people into just about anything.  I had friends who would bring him slushes when they came over, just because my dad told them they should!

My dad cares deeply for his family.  He would do anything and everything to help in a time of need and would do anything at all to keep his kids, grandkids, and wife from being hurt.

God has done amazing things in my dad's life and has softened his heart a lot over the years.  Sure, we all were embarassed at times and felt unfairly punished, but that's part of growing up.  My dad is great and I am so glad that he has impacted my life, and so many others, in such a positive way.

I love you, Dad!