When I was a child, going on a road trip was one of my all time favorite things to do. And we went on quite a few. I loved the anticipation of counting down the days until it was time to leave. I loved the excitement of packing for the trip. I loved being so excited the night before that we would hardly sleep. I remember begging our parents to let us sleep in the car so we would be ready to go. Of course they wouldn't agree to that but it didn't stop us from sleeping in our clothes , shoes and all. Hey,I didnt want to miss a minute of the trip by sleeping in and having to get dressed. I wanted to be ready!!
My mom started the " fun bag" tradition . We would each get one bag( a back pack, favotite canvas bag, you name it) And we could fill it with all kinds of fun things to do. Mine was always packed with books ( it was a requirement from my daddy... he said it kept me from talking the whole trip), crossword puzzles, markers, paper, a deck of cards, and of course MadLibs. Now rememeber, this was before DVD players in the car, before I-pods,and before handheld game systems. My sisters and I could keep busy for hours with just a few pieces of paper and a pen. We would play tic-tac-toe, hangman, car bingo, the license plate game, the dot/box game( rememeber the game that you put dots all over the paper and took turns trying to turn them into boxes) Loved that one. Well anyways, we loved playing games. And when we got bored with that we would pull out the Cassette tapes ( yes I said cessette) and play our favorite road trip music. We knew all the words to the Alabama Greatest Hits, The Oakridge Boys and even the Statler Brothers.( any other times we hated listnening to my parents "old" music, but there was something about those songs when we were on the road. But our favorites were Daddy's Hands, Fishing in the Dark and Sweet Home Alabama.
Now this may sound like it was always a good time and we all got along great, but you have to remember there were three girls trapped in a car for several hours at a time. Trust me there was fighting. Before we got the minivan the biggest thing we fought over was who would get to sit by the window. Someone had to be in the middle. We also fought over what music to play, how it was not fair when someone won a game, and of course the common " She's touching me". My mom would say to us the usual... stop that, leave your sister alone and when she had HAD ENOUGH ( as she would say) we would hear.... Don;t make me pull over. Which was always just an empty threat...Until one time I guess she had FINALLY REALLY had enough and she pulled the car over.. It was NOT fun.. Let me just say that on future road trips.. She would only have to say " Don't make me pull over one time and we would straighten right up. Trust me it was better to have to be the one to sit in the middle than have my parents pull the car over.
And even though I am all grown up , I have never outgrown my love of road trips. I love playing the same fun games with my boys. ( Actually before we had kids ,I subjected my husband to play them.) And even though he rolls his eyes a week before our planned trip when I pull out my favorite backpack and fill it with all my fun games, I know he loves those games as much as I do. And I am proud to say , so do our boys. We took a trip last summer and we didnt have a DVD player, Ipods, or handhelpd games ( well actually my oldest had his PSP,but he hardly played it) They preferred my old fashioned games. Makes a mama proud. And I have to admit, there was fighting, and whining and complaining, but I was smiling as I shouted out... Don't make me pull over.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Follow the Yellow Brick Road....
Remember the days before cable television and VCR, DVD and BLueray players. ( well if you were born before the 80's that is). Remember the days that if you wanted to see a movie you either had to go to the theatre to see it or wait for the "_Debut Network Broadcast Premiere". And if you wanted to watch a movie again you had to wait for the next year for the " Annual Network Broadcast Premiere"
Well one movie that was an annual event in our house was the Wizard of Oz. My mom knew every year when it would be coming on. On those night we would eat dinner just a little early. We would get our baths and jammies on just a little early. The blankets would come out, the popcorn would be popped, and on those nights the "coke"( which in the south means any soft drink)would be poured and we would wait with anticipation for the black and white image of Kansas to appear on the screen.
We would sing " Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my" for weeks after. I would practice my cowardly lion impression.... Put 'em up, put 'em up! Which one of you first? I'll fight you both together if you want. I'll fight you with one paw tied behind my back. I'll fight you standing on one foot. I'll fight you with my eyes closed"
Although we knew most of the lines and could sing every word of every song, it was exciting and new everytime. And to this day those nights watching that movie is one of my favorite memories. ITs the little things... its the tradition...it's the memories we made.
Well one movie that was an annual event in our house was the Wizard of Oz. My mom knew every year when it would be coming on. On those night we would eat dinner just a little early. We would get our baths and jammies on just a little early. The blankets would come out, the popcorn would be popped, and on those nights the "coke"( which in the south means any soft drink)would be poured and we would wait with anticipation for the black and white image of Kansas to appear on the screen.
We would sing " Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my" for weeks after. I would practice my cowardly lion impression.... Put 'em up, put 'em up! Which one of you first? I'll fight you both together if you want. I'll fight you with one paw tied behind my back. I'll fight you standing on one foot. I'll fight you with my eyes closed"
Although we knew most of the lines and could sing every word of every song, it was exciting and new everytime. And to this day those nights watching that movie is one of my favorite memories. ITs the little things... its the tradition...it's the memories we made.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Church has changed but God hasn't
Growing up I would go to church with my granny on Sundays. Her rule was if you were at her house on Sunday mornings you went to church. And I was there on plenty of Sunday mornings after a sleepover with my cousin. My granny attented the same church for most of her life. My daddy went there when he was a boy(My granny would walk there every Sunday rain or shine with her kids in tow) and later married my mom there. My aunts and uncles were married there and when the time came, we said goodbye to my pawpaw and my granny there.
I loved going to church with my granny. I did not love the panty hose she made me wear. I loved going to Sunday School and hearing the stories about Jesus. I did not love getting in trouble for passing notes to my cousin during the preacher's long sermons. I loved dropping coins in the offering plate as it was passed by. I did not love all the little old ladies commenting on just how much I had grown. I loved hearing my granny sing along to the Hymms. I did not love when my stomach would growl as i thought about the supper waiting back at granny's house while we were waiting in line to shake the preacher's hands..
But the main thing I loved about going to church with my granny, was the closness I felt to her. My granny LOVED going to church. My granny LOVED playing praise music during the day. My granny LOVED Jesus. And the more I learned about Jesus, the more I understood why my granny was so special, why my granny was so loving, patient, humble, and self -sacrificing. Why she never gossiped, complained, or wanted more. She was happy with what she had. She raised 10 kids in a 3 bedroom 1 bath house. She took in nieces or nepherws when they needed a place to stay, she would feed the homeless when they had nothing to eat and she would cook supper every Sunday for over 40 relatives. I can see now that my granny was a living testimony of the picture of Christ. She did not preach to you, she did not pass judgement if you didnt attend church, she lived her life the way the Bible instructed and in that I beleive she was planting seeds by being an example. Her life and the way she lived was her testimony.
And now that I attend church with my own family I have not only learned that the closer I am in my walk with Jesus, the closer I am to seeing how she had "it" all figured out. I have not only learned that I can find that same peace that she had about her..... I have learned that church may have changed over the years but God hasn't.
I loved going to church with my granny. I did not love the panty hose she made me wear. I loved going to Sunday School and hearing the stories about Jesus. I did not love getting in trouble for passing notes to my cousin during the preacher's long sermons. I loved dropping coins in the offering plate as it was passed by. I did not love all the little old ladies commenting on just how much I had grown. I loved hearing my granny sing along to the Hymms. I did not love when my stomach would growl as i thought about the supper waiting back at granny's house while we were waiting in line to shake the preacher's hands..
But the main thing I loved about going to church with my granny, was the closness I felt to her. My granny LOVED going to church. My granny LOVED playing praise music during the day. My granny LOVED Jesus. And the more I learned about Jesus, the more I understood why my granny was so special, why my granny was so loving, patient, humble, and self -sacrificing. Why she never gossiped, complained, or wanted more. She was happy with what she had. She raised 10 kids in a 3 bedroom 1 bath house. She took in nieces or nepherws when they needed a place to stay, she would feed the homeless when they had nothing to eat and she would cook supper every Sunday for over 40 relatives. I can see now that my granny was a living testimony of the picture of Christ. She did not preach to you, she did not pass judgement if you didnt attend church, she lived her life the way the Bible instructed and in that I beleive she was planting seeds by being an example. Her life and the way she lived was her testimony.
And now that I attend church with my own family I have not only learned that the closer I am in my walk with Jesus, the closer I am to seeing how she had "it" all figured out. I have not only learned that I can find that same peace that she had about her..... I have learned that church may have changed over the years but God hasn't.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Signed, MOM
My mom was a stay at home... but don't say that she didn't work, don't say that she didn't have a job. Don't say that she just stayed at home...
My mom worked 24 hours a day, my mom had multiple jobs: chef, housekeeper, nurse, counselor, referee, chauffeur, interior decorator, repairman, you get the point. My mom drove all over town carpooling my sisters and I and our friends to every event and activity that we signed up for. And between softball, basketball,dance, gymnastics, , volleyball games, track meets,pagents, school plays, etc. ,there was ALOT of driving around.
In a past post I talked about my moms creativity in the kitchen.. Well it didn't stop there. One way to describe my mom is "creative". She could make just about anything. If we wanted a fort, she would CREATE an elaborate fort. If we needed costumes for the school play she would CREATE pieces worthy of Broadway. If we wanted "Strawberry Shortcake" on our walls, she would CREATE lifelike decorations to depict any character we were into, if we wanted pancakes, she would CREATE Mickey Mouse faces complete with chocolate chip smiles.. And her creativity didn't stop there. Her mark was on every room in the house. Her mark was on the landscaping in our yards, her mark was on paintings that hung in our living room. My mom was crafty.
But another word that comes to mind when thinking about my mom is loving.. She loves being a mom. Growing up I felt LOVED when I would find encouraging notes in my lunch box signed by MOM ( and the O was always a smiley face with curly hair). Growing up I felt LOVED when my mom sat up with me all night, singing me little songs, when I had yet another bad ear infection. Growing up I felt LOVED when my mom cheered me on at gymnastics and volleyball games. Growing up I felt LOVED when my mom would make my favorite dish for dinner when she knew I had a bad day. Growing up I felt LOVED when she welcomed my friends in and treated them like her own. Looking back I know I was LOVED when my mom enforced a curfew earlier than my friends. Looking back I know I was LOVED when I would be grounded for talking back. Looking back I know I was LOVED when I was expected to do my chores. Looking back I know I was LOVED when I was taught "old fashioned values". At the time I thought my parents were being strict, now I see that they were being LOVING parents who cared.
And now that I am a mom myself, I can only pray that when my boys are grown and they look back on their childhood, that even if I am not remembered as the most fair mom, even if I am not remembered as a perfect mom. I want to be remembered as a LOVING mom, just like I remember my mom today.
My mom worked 24 hours a day, my mom had multiple jobs: chef, housekeeper, nurse, counselor, referee, chauffeur, interior decorator, repairman, you get the point. My mom drove all over town carpooling my sisters and I and our friends to every event and activity that we signed up for. And between softball, basketball,dance, gymnastics, , volleyball games, track meets,pagents, school plays, etc. ,there was ALOT of driving around.
In a past post I talked about my moms creativity in the kitchen.. Well it didn't stop there. One way to describe my mom is "creative". She could make just about anything. If we wanted a fort, she would CREATE an elaborate fort. If we needed costumes for the school play she would CREATE pieces worthy of Broadway. If we wanted "Strawberry Shortcake" on our walls, she would CREATE lifelike decorations to depict any character we were into, if we wanted pancakes, she would CREATE Mickey Mouse faces complete with chocolate chip smiles.. And her creativity didn't stop there. Her mark was on every room in the house. Her mark was on the landscaping in our yards, her mark was on paintings that hung in our living room. My mom was crafty.
But another word that comes to mind when thinking about my mom is loving.. She loves being a mom. Growing up I felt LOVED when I would find encouraging notes in my lunch box signed by MOM ( and the O was always a smiley face with curly hair). Growing up I felt LOVED when my mom sat up with me all night, singing me little songs, when I had yet another bad ear infection. Growing up I felt LOVED when my mom cheered me on at gymnastics and volleyball games. Growing up I felt LOVED when my mom would make my favorite dish for dinner when she knew I had a bad day. Growing up I felt LOVED when she welcomed my friends in and treated them like her own. Looking back I know I was LOVED when my mom enforced a curfew earlier than my friends. Looking back I know I was LOVED when I would be grounded for talking back. Looking back I know I was LOVED when I was expected to do my chores. Looking back I know I was LOVED when I was taught "old fashioned values". At the time I thought my parents were being strict, now I see that they were being LOVING parents who cared.
And now that I am a mom myself, I can only pray that when my boys are grown and they look back on their childhood, that even if I am not remembered as the most fair mom, even if I am not remembered as a perfect mom. I want to be remembered as a LOVING mom, just like I remember my mom today.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)