My Only Sister

Yes, I've accepted the challenge from my friend Teresa to get back to blogging.

Today my sister turns 29. I can still remember my Mom pacing back and forth, quietly calling the doctor, and then me being dropped off at my Aunt's house late at night. It would be days before I would get to meet her because it was the eighties, and hospitals had strict rules about kids and germs and such.  Some might think it's odd that we are so close considering the number of years between us, but we've always been this way. I guess when your 12 year old sister carries you around all the time, you have no choice but to bond with her.

We've bonded over some really bad hair days

         I think we bonded when I made her an Aunt at age 6 (she looks a little bitter)

We've bonded on fun trips and para sailing gone bad

(FYI-the para sail should not be in the water next to you)

Her wedding day

We’ve bonded over her pregnancies, the day I handed over her first baby boy to be circumcised and me becoming Auntie to this crazy crew…

But this year we've bonded in the valley. It was this time last year that the valley was deep, and we thought we wouldn’t make it through. There were days when my Mom looked at me and then looked at her. There were no words, but I knew that she was telling me to take care of her baby.  Sure, she was bossing me in her final days about the quality of home health care that I was providing, but she still looked at her with tear filled eyes because a mom is never ready to let go of her baby.

 

The days of 2012 have been filled with sadness, but I'm so thankful that on December 31, 1983, my Mom walked in the house with an almost 10 pound adorable baby girl that I would finally get to hold (and boss), and I would have someone to walk through the valleys with me.

 

Happy Birthday to my sister, my only sister. 

 

 

The Last Place I Went With My Mother

It was now time to step into the land of chemo. I know chemo is encouraging to most people because it offers hope to those that are filled with disease. The room was filled with people that could carry on normal conversations and people that looked good. Sure, some of them had lost some hair, and looked a little pale, but most of them looked like they stopped by for a little dose of chemo on their way to the bank. And while that might encourage the average person taking a “get to know us” tour of the chemo room; it was a little discouraging to two daughters who sat at the foot of their mother’s chemo recliner trying to read magazines and look at their iPhones to hold back the tears that wanted to flow. We both knew that our mom didn’t look like any of the “stopping by for chemo people” and it would be the last place we would go with our mother.

We sat there for 6 hours as the poison ran through her veins, and we asked her if she was okay at least a 1000 times.  She was always “okay” and would doze on and off when the drugs would give her a break from the pain that now ruled her life. The nurse would stop by and say,  "You’re doing good" but we knew she didn’t mean it.  Everyone, including the doctor, knew what we were up against and this visit to chemoland was what I like to call a big dose of sympathy.  He knew it wouldn’t work, but this good ol’boy doctor from Alabama didn’t have the heart to tell a fellow southerner that she couldn’t have her chemo. So he told her if she could walk across the room (about 4 feet), he would let her do chemo and made it very clear that it would probably kill her. 

We were nearing the end of the day, and she needed to go to the restroom so I asked a nurse to help unhook all of the cords and tubes.  The nurse walked beside her as I followed closely behind. She tried to make small talk, and asked about the girls that were with her. She quickly said, “They are my daughters” with a strong sound to her voice that I hadn’t heard in days. The nurse quipped, “I hope this one’s your daughter or someone is following us.”  The nurse was just making conversation, but the few words that were spoken meant a lot to a woman that would say good-bye to her children in just one short week…

She didn’t have a lot of hope in the poison that was running through her veins, she didn’t have the strength to make conversation with another patient, and she didn’t have the energy to even read a magazine, but she was quick to say what she had…she had daughters.

Teen Tuesday: Pinterest Is Your BFF

Way back in the fall the Lil’Nanny decided that she was going to move to her sister’s bedroom.  I had offered this room to her years earlier and she wasn’t interested, but then one day, she slept in there and realized that the smaller window didn’t let in as much light and she could sleep later…she’s a typical teenager.

The room needed to be painted so we got on the Pinterest to start looking for room inspiration and before we knew it, we had an entire board of teenage bedroom ideas.  You can view our teenage room ideas here.  The Lil’Nanny decided that a turquoise and black “glam” theme was her style, and I began pulling it all together.
Here’s the big reveal…


The focal point of every room is the bed so we found a reasonably priced black damask quilt at the Steinmarts.  Those large rectangle pillows on the bed are actually dog beds, but I didn’t know that when I bought them.  Not exactly as classy sounding as euro shams, but they do the trick. The mirror and decorative pillows are from Homegoods.  Homegoods is my happy place.  Sheets are from Walmart, gray blanket is from Target.

Another view of the bed. 

We got her this black vanity for Christmas.  My favorite part of buying this vanity was that it’s from Big Lots, and I needed to pick it up when I was out Christmas shopping with Alicia and Sumer.  I’m not sure that Alicia had ever been to Big Lots before so I’m always glad to expose her to a new high class shopping destination.  Sumer was like a kid in a candy store because they don’t have good Big Lots shopping in Addis Ababa. 

This was the dresser that we bought at Unfinished Furniture Mega Mart before she was born.  CraftiMama and I picked this dresser out, painted it white, and lined the drawers with baby shower wrapping paper (do people still do this?) five days before I delivered the Lil’Nanny.  It’s held up well, so I painted it glossy black and glammed it up with some crystal knobs we found at Homegoods.

A ruffle curtain from Target

We found this chalkboard wall sticker thing (Kohls) for the door.  I thought I was going to leave her fun notes of inspiration like clean your room, clean the bathroom, wash your sheets, etc., but she had other ideas. 

Our final project ended up being one of my favorite things in the room.  I bought this wood sign at the Pottery Barn Outlet years ago for the Medium Nanny’s room.  We weren’t using it anymore, but I always kept it because I knew that I could repurpose it.

 

My inspiration idea came from Pinterest via the Susan Harris Blog.  She makes and sells word signs on her blog.

If you don’t know this song, you should.  You can listen to it here.  Whenever I’m getting my craft on, I can’t help but think of my CraftiMama.  My first instinct at completion is to send her a text. This was our primary means of communication the last couple years so I could always count on her for an honest opinion, and a you need to add ________.  She would have definitely suggested more bling.  This sign and this song is a reminder that oh, how He does love us especially when our hearts are broken. 

I’m thankful for craft paint, a teenage girl, and fun glamour rooms…it’s cheaper than therapy!  Happy Tuesday!

Teenage Tuesday

First day of 8th grade...

August 8, 2011

Teenage Tuesday, Hellister

There is a place in this world that no mother in her right mind wants to go. A place of torment. It is loud there and no one wants to help you. This place is in the mall. Some call it...

I call it Hellister.

My 13 year old daughter requested a sweater for Christmas from this institution of snobbery and mediocre teenage sportswear. I had been to this store before and knew that going to this place alone was not an option especially during the holiday season so I brought some supportive friends with me. All of these people had preschool children and had no idea how bad this place was going to be.

I walked into the store and made my first move...

I asked for help. Something so simple but so difficult to get. At one point, I had to give the boy the hand. Like a hand wave with a hey could you help me look. Because no one offers you help there. Or maybe they don't offer help to anyone over 30, I'm not sure.

My second move...

I asked for the "navy" sweater that was on the display. Not gonna happen. They will not sell you an item that is on a display. Obviously, the economy is not that bad if they won't sell you the item that you need.

My third move...

I saw a table of black sweaters and asked if they had anymore of the same sweater in navy? She told me the sweater I was holding was navy and not black. I looked at it and said are you sure? It looks black? (Note to self: do not question sales associates.) I was immediately given a look of disgust and ignorance when the teen sales associate told me, "We don't sell anything black in this store; it is navy."

You might think this would deter me from buying said sweater from snobby establishment. Nope, I'm willing to suffer through Hellister to get daughter her navy (it can't be black!) sweater.

A Good Name

It was just two weeks ago today that I was making my tentative plans to jump on a plane to arrive just in time for the delivery of this little girl, my niece, Aubrey Christine. Tammy Faye sent me a text on Friday night that said she just had a prenatal massage that included pressuring spots that could induce labor. And I thought to myself...what's the chance that will work?

It works. At 1:15 a.m. I received a call from CraftiMama saying that Tammy Faye was on her way to the hospital. So I called Tammy Faye to see how fast this labor was progressing and I knew immediately by the lack of words and intense moaning that I was not going to be there to cut the cord. Yes, I was to be the official cord cutter because my brother in law has issues with the cord cutting. I received numerous text through out the night and a phone call around 5 a.m. with the news that she had arrived. I booked a flight that morning and was there by the afternoon...

Meeting Aubrey. We share the same middle name. Aubrey's great grandmothers had the same middle name too. We all know that a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches. And being named after your favorite aunt is way better than a million dollars:)

Aubrey meeting her big brother Josiah

Tammy Faye and I tend to get carried away with the monogramming. The blanket, the bow, the diaper bag. You name it; we monogram it. In fact, we would both probably get tattoos if we could get them in hot pink and a cute font.

I got to practice my swaddling techniques. I watched some swaddling videos on youtube to refresh my memory.

Pure sweetness! Congratulation Misty, Eric & Josiah!

P.S. Yes, I stopped to get a hotdog on the way to the hospital.

Making the Team!

Big news for the Lil'Nanny today...

There are no words to describe her face when she saw her name on this list.

She's been on cloud nine all night:)

Pocketful of Sunshine

It was just last week that Lawnmower Man and I did what all good baptist parents do on spring break.  We dropped off our child at the church so she could go on a mission trip and high tailed it to the airport to find a pocketful of sunshine...

We found it and within a few short hours two of the whitest people on earth were sitting on a Bahama island.

Sittin' in the mornin' sun, I'll be sittin' when the evenin' come

 (No computer and no phones. I logged lots of hours in this chair.)

Watchin' the ships come in and and then I watch'em roll away again

I could not post this picture and not include that classic song line.  You can't get this cheeziness just anywhere.

We rode around town on a city bus to go shopping and to restaurants. Lawnmower Man told me not to click my gum or we I would get kicked off the bus.  Lawnmower Man was in shock over the crazy bus driving but it didn't phase me one bit because it was calm compared to the roads in Africa ;)  Although they didn't have that gum clicking rule in Africa.

 

We were solicited many times to go on the booze cruise. We obviously look like two people that would enjoy hanging out with a boat full of 20 year old spring break drunks.

Two people that are hopeful that their child will go on another spring break mission trip.

P.S. I will report later this week about the bahama sun, my forehead and the cost of sunscreen on an island.