The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

In a few short days my son will be heading back to school. I look upon this time with both trepidation and sadness. Sadness you may ask! Yes, sadness. I'm not sad my son is starting school, what makes me so sad is that he is another year older and he is not my baby anymore and I am unable to protect him like I used to. Once my son closes the door to my car and walks up that school driveway and enters through those doors, he is on his own. Well, for eight hours anyway. Sure, there are educators to make sure he listens and learns and follows the rules. But what if someone was mean to him at recess? What if he had no one to sit with at lunch? What will he do? What would I do? I can tell you what I would do and what I would want to do would be two totally different things entirely. My instinct as a mom is to protect my son. However my job as a mom is to teach my son right from wrong, teach him the ability to foster meaningful relationships with his peers and to instill in him an unwavering confidence.
As he begins yet another year my aptitude as a parent will be put to the test. Will I excel or will I blunder?Nobody knows. What I do know is that my son is growing up and he is growing up fast - much faster than I hoped. No longer is he dependant on me for everything. He gets his own breakfast but sometimes he does let me help because every so often even buttering toast needs a moms touch. He definitely won't let me near his video games, I guess I'm simply not cool enough. But when he is sleepy and his eyes are heavy there is a moment reminiscent of the past when he calls to me and asks, "Mommy can you tuck me in?" And of course I jump at the chance. And it always ends the same way - I tuck him in and kiss him goodnight and tell him I love him and as I walk out of the room and dim the light, I blissfully think to myself, "He'll always be my baby."

I Was "THAT" House

I don't know about anyone else, but when I was a kid and whenever I was driving in the car with my mom there was always one house, sometimes two, often times more. The house we would drive by and mom would say, "Could you ever live in that house?" I would look over - disgusted! Often times the house had shades drawn, overgrown grass and paint chipping - A present day haunted house. My reply "EWWW NO!" and to which my mom would counter, "You know their bum smells." Like somehow because they didn't take care of their house, they definitely were not up to par on their hygiene. But I do have to say I definitely agreed. And so every time I would drive by "that" house it would be known as the "Smelly bum haunted house."

So you can kinda guess that growing up we always had an impeccable house - white glove cleanliness and an immaculate yard. When we were little we knew enough to only take out the toys we were going to play with at that time and when we were done with said toy to put it away. You could definitely say my mom was obsessed with cleanliness and that my friends is definitely a gene she has passed on to me. It is both a gift and a curse.

Flash forward many years later when I moved in with my then boyfriend. I guess my first sign should have been that he went and picked out the house we would be living in without me. I HATED the house right off the bat. It was beyond hideous. However, he reassured me that "major renovations" were going to take place. SWEET! I could put up with living in the house knowing it was all going to be redone. Long story short - No major renovations took place. Oh, OH, OH wait I'm sorry we did get new carpet in the living room. I was at work when it was picked out and put down (surprise, surprise). Well, when I walked through the door I was horrified to say the least - the very least. It was an indoor/outdoor carpeting. Now I'm no expert in carpeting, but I can pretty much assume that when it says indoor/outdoor carpeting IT'S NOT MEANT FOR A LIVING ROOM!

Everyday I would come home from work and cringe whenever I pulled into the driveway. I would look at the house - the paint was chipping. I looked around at the yard - What Yard??! it was nothing but a mud pit. And the worst part - for me, cars were parked on the front lawn. This is not o.k. people. Never, ever EVER under any circumstances should you park your car on your front lawn. This screams, "RED NECK!" Hello! This is what the driveway was for. I brought up these "issues" with my boyfriend. He didn't see anything wrong with things and his excuse for parking on the lawn - It's easy to get out. What? Did I hear him correctly? We have a huge driveway that is very easy to get out of. Trust me! I have no problem getting out of the driveway. Oh sure, I am the only car actually parked in the driveway but C'Mon!

Well my issues with the house did not go away, but I learned to deal with them as best I could. Maybe I was being too picky and asking for too much. I mean the paint chipping gave our house that "antique look" and the cars parked on the lawn? Maybe, just maybe, people would drive by and think " wow, those people who live in that house must be tough!" Cuz only tough people would park on lawns - right? Well, my new outlook lasted all but three days. It was when I pulled into the driveway after a long day at work and I glanced over at the mud pit, I looked at the four or five cars parked on the lawn and realized in that instant that I was "That House" I was living in the smelly bum haunted house. Did little kids drive by my house and think it was scary? Or worse, did they think that because my house was gross ,and didn't look like anyone took care of it, that whoever living there (ME!) must not take care of themselves? (gasp)Did little kids and their moms think I had a smelly bum? That was it! I had it! I was done! If my boyfriend didn't see anything wrong with the house, he can stay. Let him park as many cars on the lawn as he wants, he can let ALL the paint chip off the house and he can let the yard turn in to a dirty, muddy mess. I was outta there I was off to CLEANER, GREENER pastures.

Nobody Knows

Nobody knows the emptiness I have in my heart,

Nobody knows I silently cry in the shower,

Nobody knows I replay your voice over and over again in my head like some sort of lullaby to help me fall asleep.

Nobody knows that I often think I see you in a store or driving by and my heart is happy again - only for a second and then I remember you are gone.

Nobody knows how my heart breaks for my dad - who is suddenly widowed,

For my Aj - who no longer has "nuna" in his life,

And for Liam who will never know how great you were.

Nobody knows I talk to you - when I'm all alone - and I swear I hear you talking back.

Nobody knows how scared I am that the day will come that I will forget what your voice sounded like.

Nobody knows the tears that I shed, in silence, after Liam was born. Tears because you were not there and tears for the future. After all, who could I ask when I had "baby questions"?

Nobody knows the anger I feel - you were taken away from us way to soon.

Nobody knows sadness I feel - My mom is really gone.

Nobody knows the guilt I carry around for not visiting with you that last day.

Nobody knows the comfort I feel - knowing that you and I will be reunited again in Heaven.

In My Son's Eyes

Author: Martina McBride
In my son's eyes, I am a hero. I am strong an' wise, And I know no fear.
But the truth is plain to see: He was sent to rescue me,
I see who I want to be, in my son's eyes.I
n my son's eyes, everyone is equal, Darkness turns to light, And the world is at peace.
This miracle God gave to me, Gives me strength when I am weak.
I find reason to believe, in my son's eyes.
And when he wraps his hand around my finger, Oh, it puts a smile in my heart.
Everything becomes a little clearer. I realize what life is all about.
It's hanging on when your heart has had enough; It's giving more when you feel like giving up. I've seen the light: it's in my son's eyes.
In my son's eyes, I can see the future. A reflection of who I am, And what will be.
And though he'll grow and, some day, leave: Maybe raise a family, When I'm gone, I hope you'll see, How happy he made me, For I'll be there, in my son's eyes.

Letter from Heaven

To my dearest family, some things I'd like to say. But first of all, to let you know, that I arrived okay. I'm writing this from heaven. Here I dwell with God above. Here, there's no more tears of sadness; Here is just eternal love. Please do not be unhappy just because I'm out of sight. Remember that I am with you every morning, noon and night. That day I had to leave you when my life on earth was through. God picked me up and hugged me and He said, "I welcome you. It's good to have you back again, you were missed while you were gone. As for your dearest family, They'll be here later on. There's so much that we have to do, to help our mortal man." God gave me a list of things, that he wished for me to do. And foremost on the list, was to watch and care for you. And when you lie in bed at night the day's chores put to flight. God and I are closest to you....in the middle of the night. When you think of my life on earth, and all those loving years. Because you are only human, they are bound to bring you tears. But do not be afraid to cry: it does relieve the pain. Remember there would be no flowers, unless there was some rain. I wish that I could tell you all that God has planned. If I were to tell you, you wouldn't understand. But one thing is for certain, though my life on earth is o'er. I'm closer to you now, than I ever was before. There are many rocky roads ahead of you and many hills to climb; But together we can do it by taking one day at a time. It was always my philosophy and I'd like it for you too; That as you give unto the world, the world will give to you. If you can help somebody who's in sorrow and pain; Then you can say to God at night......"My day was not in vain." And now I am contented....that my life was worthwhile. Knowing as I passed along the way I made somebody smile. So if you meet somebody who is sad and feeling low; Just lend a hand to pick him up, as on your way you go. When you're walking down the street and you've got Me on your mind; I'm walking in your footsteps only half a step behind. And when it's time for you to go....from that body to be free. Remember you're not going.....you're coming here to Me.

And I will always love you from the land up above. We'll be in touch again soon. P.S. God sends His love.

I wanted to kick their as*!

What is it with kids these days? They seem a whole lot nastier, crueler, meaner and just plain bad. (oh God I sound like my grandmother). Anyway here's what happened. Me and my family have been staying over my dads house for the past two nights because we are putting a new kitchen floor down and we are unable to walk on it..blah..blah..blah.. Well, the first night we were here it was around 11:00. My father was in bed and I was on the computer , surprise, surprise :) When all of a sudden I heard my dad yell in a very raspy voice "pick it up! pick it up! I know who you are and I will go down and tell your father!" Now at first thought was yelling at my son. I don't know why I thought this because my father would never in a million years yell at him. There is a special bond between those two. Next thing I knew he came flying out of his room and raced down the stairs. Being very curious, of course, I followed. I asked him what happened and he told me kids knocked down my sons basketball hoop and it was now laying in the middle of the street. UGH!!! Friggin punks. So of course I also ran down the stairs and I bolted outside and began walking down the street with my hands in a fist. Looking back I laugh to myself. What was I thinking? Storming down the street at 11:00 at night! What would I do if i saw the kids? fight them? Well, I heard the roar of my dads truck. Uh oh! I yelled as he zoomed by, "where are you going?" Knowing quite well that he was going to see if he could find the punks. uh oh! what is HE found them? What was he going to do? My thoughts immediately went from anger towards those punks to worry for my dad. I hope he doesn't find them. What if they yell at him? What if he gets out of the truck and they beat him up? oh god, he'll have a heart attack! It seemed like a lifetime before I heard the familiar roar of my dads truck.. He got out and - no luck he could not find them. Whew!! A part of me was kind of glad. Well, we went to bed a few minutes later and I hoped that was the end of that.
Fast forward to the next evening. My dad was sitting on the porch and wouldn't you know it - the punks walked by! yep they actually had the nerve to walk by the house. Maybe they didn't know that my dad saw them and knew what they looked like. But my dad didn't say anything. He just sat on the porch smoking his cigarette and glared at them in a Clint Eastwood sort of way. About an hour later all of us went off to bed. Oh, I forgot to mention, Eric was staying over this night . (this will be important later in the story). We weren't in bed 10 minutes when CRASH! yep, the punks were back and they did it again. All of us raced down stairs and we saw the basketball hoop laying in the street. My dad and Eric went outside and looked down the street - they couldn't see anyone. Eric asked what the kids looked like and in an instant zoomed off in his truck. Dad was pacing . I know he was probably feening for a cigarette. But his hands were shaking so much he probably would have dropped it and our luck the house would have went up in flames. Well Eric came back with a smirk on his face. I knew he found them! ha ha! Revenge! We all took great pleasure of listening to his story. How he saw the punks, pulled up beside them and ..well we can all kinda guess what happened next... no , no, no he didn't beat them up (although i would have loved that) he did have a few choice words for them. Good!

As a mom I was soooo mad! Actually Mad isn't even the word I was irate! bullshit! If steam could have come out my ears...ohhh it would have believe you me!!!. Did those kids know how much "Santa" paid for that basketball hoop? What kind of parents did they have? Did they not teach them any morals? Then the minds started to work. Dad wanted to spend the next day putting tacks around the top of the basketball hoop so if and when they did it again -Surprise!!. That would teach them.. Eric suggested putting tar up there. I wanted to hide behind a bush with a pellet gun and get em if they tried to do it again. (insert evil laugh here) .
As of right now plans are in the works as to what to do to teach those kids a lesson.
Putting tacks on top of the rim is sounding pretty good right about now. "Sorry officer the tacks were up there so birds wouldn't sit up there and poop. We didn't mean for someone to get hurt, honestly)....Mwahahahahahaha

The New Bag

Let me tell you about my new pocketbook....wait, wait, wait.. this is interesting. I'm not quite sure when it happened (o.k. I have an idea - maybe about 5 months ago) I was getting ready to bring my new son to the Dr.s and I had to pack everything up..My son - CHECK! His snuggie (this is what he calls his little bear) CHECK! Pacifier - CHECK! Diaper bag - CHECK! pocketbook - CHECK! But wait! How in the world was I going to carry my son in his car seat, a diaper bag and my very oversized new bag whose brand name shall remain nameless. Hmm.. I looked at all three things and knew something had to go. I couldn't possibly leave my son. After all, he was the reason we were heading out. O.k. so now it is between the diaper bag and my ohh so cute trendy bag.This is a tough decision. I cooould put his diapers and wipes in my new bag, it certainly was big enough. or I could just leave my new bag at home..GASP!!!!! but how was everyone going to know I was a hip and trendy mom? How was my bag going to be the envy of all the other moms? Think Heather, think! I guess I could just leave the bag at home and put my wallet in the diaper bag. Did I just say that? Really? Leave my new bag at home? But I did. I walked in to the Dr's office with my sons diaper bag doubling as my pocketbook.
Sadly ladies, that wasn't the last time it happened. Every time I left the house, I used that diaper bag as my pocketbook. Except for this one time I was going shopping and I brought both the diaper bag and my trendy new bag. But unfortunately, the new bag never made it out of the car. I decided I didn't want to lug around two bulky bags and so my friends, yes, the diaper bag won. I'm not sure when I'll be able to "show off" my trendy new bag, but when I do, I'm sure it won't be trendy anymore and it certainly won't be new.

R.I.P Trendy New bag.

Here I go

O.k. so I've heard so much about blogging lately.. Everywhere I turn someone is blogging about something. I was always curious as to what it meant to blog and to be honest I am still trying to figure it out. I am starting my very own blog today! Right now! This second! I'm not sure if I am doing any of this right but I'm gonna give it a go. I love writing and expressing myself through words. My Blog will be about me, my family, my new hobby - Couponing!!! and anything else I feel like writing about that day.Bear with me, as I am a beginner blogger . So here I go ready to take the plunge - into blogging that is ~ wish me luck