Look Closer

When you walk into my room

What is it that you see?

My pictures hanging on the wall,

My things so nice and neat?

Or do you feel the vibrancy

Of they way you see me act?

Carefree, fun, and energetic

Knowing where the good time's at?

Now, please look a little closer

At the things that you might find.

Can you see the demons

That are causing chaos in my mind?

I lay in fright and shiver

For there are monsters 'neath my bed.

I pray with all the faith in me

I'll awake to find them dead.

But when I arise and still I find

From me they have not gone.

I run out of this "perfect" room

And put my "other" self on.

I'm waiting for someone

Who will come and take my hand

To look a little closer

And see why I'm who I am.

I cannot fight these monsters

Or these demons on my own.

And it's so hard to want to fight

When you feel that you're alone.

Please, will you look closer

And see the me that's true?

These monster's can be overcome -

All I need is you.

Understanding

Six years ago, Brian and I received a beautiful "silk" ivy as a wedding gift. In our first apartment it was placed on a table in the corner of our living room just below a window. It was always in view, but went untouched because, after all, what would this ivy need from us, it was fake? Four months after we were married a friend of mine and her younger sister came over to visit. As my friend and I sat talking on the couch, her younger sister, Heather, was looking at pictures on the table where the ivy rested. "Are you going to water your plant?", Heather asked. "It doesn't need water. It's not real," I replied. Heather crunched a perfectly green, healthy-looking leaf and said "No. It's real alright and it's dead."

While attending college, I had an acquaintance tell me that I didn't know how tough life was because I had never had to struggle with anything. "You don't understand what it's like," she said. "You've never made any mistakes." By nature I was a very private person. I didn't share things from my personal life. I would much rather listen to others than share my own struggles. I led others to believe that my life was perfect by not indulging them with my flaws. But deep down there was a part of me that wished I was brave enough to share my fears with my friends.

The hymn "Lord, I Would Follow Thee" has always been a favorite of mine, especially the second and third verses:

Who am I to judge another when I walk imperfectly?

In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see.

Who am I to judge another? Lord, I would follow thee.

I would be my brother's keeper; I would learn the healers art

To the wounded and the weary I would show a gentle heart.

I would be my brother's keeper - Lord, I would follow thee.

While talking to my friend the other day I was reminded of how easy it can be to assume that someone leads the "perfect life". As if there is anyone here that is exempt from trials and daily struggles! There are so many seemingly perfect Ivy's and people out there that are in need of something. "In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see." It is my personal belief that those who present themselves as needing nothing are the very ones that might just need a little something from me.

Little Jazz Fan...or is he?

Jaxon experienced his first Jazz game last night. An experience that he has already filtered...only keeping the good, happy memories alive and flushing all the scary ones away.

Jaxon is one that gets startled easily. When we watch Jazz games from the comfort of our home, Jaxon often gets scared from Brian's reactions to amazing plays or bad calls. I was worried how our little boy would handle THOUSANDS of fans as excited as his dad.

When we first arrived at The-Place-Formerly-Called-The Delta Center, Jaxon was very excited to see the Jazz game. Uncle Adam let him play with his Jazz megaphone and he had a great time yelling "Hey!" to everyone that was in ear shot as we waited to enter the arena. Prior to the starting of the game we were all separated. Miscommunication between genders....a common occurrence...no one to blame. Brian was parking the car, Jaxon and Adam went to find a Jazz jersey and Becky and I were just waiting.

When the Jazz were introduced Jaxon was alone with Adam waiting for the rest of us to get to our seats. Mind you, this is the Play-offs. Merely announcing the players names will not do. This has to be big...and big it was. The team was introduced with fireworks. Big, explosive fireworks. "Ka BOOM" fireworks. (Brian heard them from the other side of the street!) Jaxon was hysterical! He cried for about 10 minutes. The game was loud. The fans were loud. The music was loud. Jaxon buried his face in my neck. In fact, I don't think Jaxon watched more than 5 minutes of the first half. He wasn't a very good Jazz fan.

The second half was less traumatic. He watched a little bit. Clapped his hands with the crowd. There was even a soft whisper of "Go Jazz!" occasionally. As soon as the game was over he forgot all about being scared. Now he will tell you about the Jazz Bear and how he "fell down the stairs, svoooosh! on the big T.V."

Memories are wonderful things. Keep the good. Block the bad. Jaxon will tell you that he loved the Jazz game, though I don't think it was the game that he enjoyed. It's his memory... who am I to tell him differently?

"Where's Blake?"

Tonight's conversation:

Jaxon: "Where's Blake, mom?"

Me: "I don't know. We'll see him in a few minutes."

Jaxon: "Mom, where Blake go?"

Me: "Jaxon, American Idol will start in five minutes."

Jaxon: "I need see Blake RIGHT NOW!"

Asking for Lauren, Jeffrey, Jocelyn, Kyle, Braxton, or Grandma is not uncommon in the life of our 2 year old. He loves his friends. He loves his family. He loves American Idol. Yes, I am the one to blame for this. Brian is completely free from any damages that may or may not occur in Jaxon's life because of American Idol.

Support Jaxon ...Vote for Blake!

Alfalfa

Alfalfa. I am NOT fond of alfalfa. No, not the character in "Little Rascals" and not the city in Oklahoma. I'm not fond of the plant. To some it may be referred to as "one of the most important legumes used in agriculture". To horses and cows I am sure it is just as yummy as can be. In my yard it is nothing but a nuisance. Yard? Okay, on my plot of dirt where my house is situated alfalfa is winning the weed battle.

The alfalfa plant is the hardest weed I have ever encountered in my life. It's root system is absolutely remarkable and altogether frustrating. According to Wikipedia, the roots can go down as far as 4.5 meters! This would explain why I have NEVER been able to extract the entire plant. Instead, I dig and dig and dig and then I eventually start hacking away at the thick, twisted roots until the plant and the root become detached.

This morning I dreaded the idea of going outside and continuing my war with this weed, mostly because of the difficult removal process. The roots are the reason why it so strong, so resilient to my efforts. My feelings started to veer from loathing to admiration. Deep roots, eh? We are taught to be firmly planted in the gospel. Firmly planted would suggest to me that we have deep, strong roots that are resilient to outside forces. How deep are my roots?

What lessons can I take from this?

1. I should be more like alfalfa
2. NEVER build your home in a former alfalfa field

It is hasn't started raining yet so we might as well get busy. And so it is that we will put on our grubbies, grab our work gloves, shovels, and hoes and head out into the dirt. I will use the shovel to remove noxious weeds from the ground and Jaxon will try to make a basket with the weeds into the bucket. This process will go pretty fast until I hit the alfalfa. At which point Jaxon looses all interest in helping and simply enjoys romping in the dirt or telling the neighbors dog to stop barking at him.

Growin' Pains (Poem)

When I was younger, so much younger than I am now,
My body did this crazy stuff that made me cry out "yeow!"
My bones inside my body wanted to grow big and tall.
I said, "Hold on a while it will happen in no time at all."
As I grew my knees would hurt when I'd do almost anything.
My mom, the smartest gal alive, said, "Those are growing pains."

Well now I've stopped growin' (not so big and tall)
And ya know, that growing thing's really not bad at all.
'Cause now the pain has left my knees and headed for another part.
Straight up to that very vital organ. Straight up to my heart.
No, I'm not talking heartburn. It's more like roads that bend.
I really thought that I'd go straight and head right to the end.

I also thought that you'd come to and we'd walk this road together.
But I can see that our two roads won't go the same forever.
My heart is hurt and I'm real scared and I don't want to let you go.
Yet with a smile I'll release you're hand so you can find new ways to grow.
My mom says the sun will come out and put a stop to all this rain.
For what I'm feeling I've felt before. They're just growin' up pains.

Growing Pains

One of the hardest parts about being a parent is watching your child suffer. Small as it may be. Even when I know it is for Jaxon's benefit. Immunizations at the doctor's office. Eating dinner BEFORE having dessert. Having to go to bed at night. Not being able to have "just one more" piece of Easter candy. The suffering goes on and on. It just doesn't seem to make much sense in the mind of a two year old how these things are really for his benefit.

The other night Jaxon experienced different kind of growing pains. Real growing pains. In his legs. We put him down for bed around 8 o'clock Thursday night. It's not uncommon for him to wake up a short while later and need mom or dad to come in and rub his back, stomach, or eyes. But this night was different. We first heard him moaning around 8:45. Within five minutes he was thrashing around and crying inconsolably. He didn't want a back rub. He didn't want to be held. He didn't want to rock in the chair. He wanted to sleep on his pillow, but he couldn't because his legs hurt and he didn't understand why.

As with almost everything in life he was fine after a little "TLC" and some Children's Motrin. He quietly drifted off to sleep and didn't mention the hurt in his legs the next day.

Growing pains. Whether it be shots, limits on candy, losing a friend, or growing older. We'll all be okay. I promise.

Wicked

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am absolutely and completely in love with musicals. In fact, my heaven will be one where everyone spontaneously breaks into song and dance and it sounds like it would in a Broadway musical. Except better. Because after all, this is heaven!

Movies are wonderful to watch, but there is nothing like being in the theatre and actually breathing the same air as these gifted performers. There are emotions that can only be stirred by experiencing it in person. (The goosebumps are forming as I type!)

On May 19th I am going to witness Wicked the Broadway musical that tells the story of the two witches, Glinda the Good Witch and Elphaba the Wicked Witch of the West, from The Wizard of Oz.

The soundtrack, addicting. The story line, intriguing. The anticipation, numbing.

Food for Thought

My new favorite commercial belongs to Subway. A couple is sitting in their car ordering food at a drive-up window. After the man orders, his female passenger places her order: "thunder thighs and a badonkadonk butt" . It is my goal in life to do everything possible to avoid ever being told I sport a "badonkadonk butt"!

Though I don't believe I will be supporting Subway because of this commercial, it did help me feel motivated enough this morning to get up and go for a walk. Thank you, Subway!



Sidenote: Upon looking for a Subway logo to place with my blog I read an interesting article. Subway has just become "The New King of Junk Food" passing up the much despised McDonald's. Here is the link if you want to read more: http://www.organicconsumers.org/corp/subway071504.cfm

Dreams

When Jaxon was a baby he would whimper in his sleep. When this would happen I would walk into his room, gently place my hand on his stomach, quietly tell him "Mommy's here", and he would immediately calm down. Even now when he cries in his sleep all it takes is for Brian or me to place a hand on his back and tell him that we are there.

Because of these nightmares Jaxon asks me every night "What dream about, Mom?" We talk about all the fun things we did that day or the things we have planned for tomorrow. Often times he says he wants to dream about "cousin Jeffrey at the park" or playing "hit the ball, kick the ball, throw the ball in Grandma's backyard".

Regardless of whether he slept through the night or had night-time whimpering, every morning when I ask him what he dreamt about his answer is the same: Popcorn and Sunshine. What more could a 2 year old need?

Happy Birthday...

A friend of mine asked my 2 1/2 year old son, Jaxon, how old I was today. His response: "She's 5." (It's better than his other favorite number...49!) I am neither 5 nor 49, but right in the middle of those two numbers. It's so hard to imagine: I was once a chubby little baby, I survived elementary, junior high, and high school (though many days I'm sure I thought I wouldn't). I married the love of my life, graduated college, taught 162 unforgetable 2nd and 4th graders, and to top it all off I have an adorable little boy that tells me "It's a beauful day, mommy!" Yes, indeed. So many yesterdays cherished.
My tomorrows will undoubtedly bring more gray hairs to hide, laundry to fold, toilets to scrub, weeds to pull, and diapers to change. There will also be many more adventures to the park, stories to read, owies to kiss better, friends to chat with, date nights with my hubby, and memories to scrapbook. I look forward to them all! (Okay, probably not the gray hairs, but everything else looks good!)
That brings me to today. Birthdays are wonderful days! I have been surrounded by my wonderful friends and family and have been showered with their love. I have been blessed beyond words! What a great reminder of all the special people I have in my life!

Cherish Yesterday, Live Today, Dream Tomorrow

Adding My Piece

Today I am starting off on a new adventure...blogging! I have become hooked on my friend's blog. Since discovering it in February it seems that a day doesn't go by without checking to see what exciting things are going on in her life (and the lives of all her other blogger friends). To put it simply... I have been living my life through the blogs of others and it's time to tell my story.