Haiti Called

My daughter, Tawni, is in Haiti. She's at an orphanage with children who are hurt or sick. Although, I'm incredibly proud of her, I won't lie. As her mother, I don't want her there and I wish she wasn't there. Because, frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I watch the news. I've heard about what's happened to some people who've gone there to help the Haitians, only to be shot or arrested.

When I first heard about the earthquake, I had this sick feeling in my stomach that Tawni would be going. I don't know how to explain it, call it mother's intuition, but I just knew. I knew she'd want to use her new nursing degree to help others. For those of you who know her, I'm sure you're not surprised. Tawni has an amazing heart and would do anything to help anyone in need. When I heard the news that she was raising money for her expenses, I somehow knew the finances would come. From what I understand, the financial support came quickly. You can imagine how my heart sunk when I realized she was really doing this. I knew she was going to a place where people are starving for food and water and using desperate measures to get it, even if it means hurting or killing the people bringing it.

I was told that she was going with a whole group of people from a church and staying in the Dominican Republic. I was told that they would be driving each day to Haiti and then back to the Domincan Republic at night to sleep. Now, I find out that she was dropped off at this orphanage because that's where she was needed. Alone. There's no group! She tells me there are guards out front and that she feels safe. She tells me that only a few of the older orphans speak english. She tells me that the children are hurt, sick and some can't see because of the infection in their eyes. She tells me it's hot and she's very sweaty and the conditions are horrible. She's alone there for a week and she tells me not to worry! It's very hard being a mother. Sometimes, honest to God, I wonder if I was cut out for it.

At this point, I can pray. Pray to a God that I trust to protect and keep her safe from bad people, harm or illness. And in reality, she doesn't belong to me anyway. Don't get me wrong. I'm sorry for the people of Haiti and what they're going through. I'm proud that our country and others are helping them in their time of need. And, as I've said, I'm incredibly proud of my own daughter for wanting to use her nursing skills to help. Yes, I'm bursting with pride. But, she's my daughter. My Tawni Bear. And, I want her safe. Safe from criminals, desperate people, disease or harm. I don't want a martyred daughter.

I want a safe, happy and healthy one.

Motherhood is a Love/Hate Relationship

Here's a revelation for some of you. I fight with my daughter's. All of them. I'm a mother to four very independent minded, opinionated, sassy, think for themselves, stubborn, beautiful daughters. Some more than the other one, but still the truth all the same. They are each unbelievably different, yet share some of the same qualities. And sometimes, frankly, we just don't like eachother.

One of the mistakes that I think many mom's make these days is trying to be friend's with their kids. I've tried, sometimes unsuccessfully to keep this at bay. My parenting skills have not always made me popular with my girls, but I've made decisions based on what I thought was best. Sometimes I was right on, and sometimes I just wasn't.

So, I'm guilty of a lot of things and I'm sure each of my four girls could produce a healthy list! So, I decided to make one of my own. A list of things that no one, not even the girls, can argue.

1. I've loved them with all my heart since the day they were born.
2. My love is unconditional (whether they believe that or not!).
3. I'm incredibly proud of each one.
4. Sometimes I don't like them, but always I love them.
5. They are four of the best things I've ever accomplished in my life.
6. I will forever be their mother, even after I'm gone.
7. They are stubborn, but overall, they are very good people.
8. They fight with eachother, but if you hurt one of them, they will defend to the death.
9. They say and do stupid things.
10. I will continue to forgive them for hurting me with their words or actions and lastly,

Without hesitation, I would die for any one of them.

Liam Eric Gary

I'm so happy to announce that I have become an Aunt once again! Congratulations to my sister Brenda, her husband Bob and to Regan (11) and Nolan (7)! My newest nephew was born on Sunday, January 24, 2010 weighing in at 7lb. 12 oz. Everyone is happy and healthy!

Our entire family are thrilled at the newest addition. I can't wait to hold, kiss and squeeze him! It's surreal that babies are still coming, but it's awesome. I'll post a picture soon.

God continues to bless our family.

Dying

My Mom's birthday was yesterday. She's getting older, I'm getting older, my kids are getting older. I think at 45 years old, I'm starting to realize that we actually can't do anything about it. We really do grow older, we really do die someday. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but it's like a revelation for me. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not afraid of dying, I'm just not ready. Still too much I want to do.

I've been thinking about my dad a lot lately. I wonder about how cool it would be if I could just call him on the phone , tell him about all the crap going on at work, or the fight I just had with one of the girls, or how deliriously in love I am with my granddaughter. I know he would have liked my new husband. And there's no doubt in my mind, he would have been thrilled that I finally got it right.

I saw this movie today called "Everything's Fine". It tells the story of a family that lies to eachother about what's really going on in their lives. We do that, don't we? We ask those questions, How are you? How are your kids? How's your job? And we answer, "Oh, everything's fine." When a lot of the time, it's just crap. Why do we do that? Are we programmed to "fake" everybody out?

Come on, seriously, is everything ever really fine? I'm not saying that life is just one big mess all of the time. But, usually when one thing is going just right, something else is out of whack. What is it about just being honest? Why is it that so many people play these stupid games with eachother. Does anyone actually believe that their neighbor, family member or co-worker ever really have their crap together all the time? I say, Hell to the no.

We're all living on this planet, one day at a time. No doubt, some people have it harder than others, this is true, but nobody's living a perfect life. No matter how it looks to the observer. When I was younger, I envied so many of my friends and truly believed I was the less fortunate of the group. Years later, thanks to facebook and re-connecting with those same friends, I've come to realize, their "perfect" lives weren't so perfect.

So, let's all get over ourselves and face reality. Life is hard sometimes. People don't get along all of the time, families sometimes loathe one another and eventually, sadly enough, does it matter anyway? In the long run, what a waste of time, because eventually,

We all die.

Life is Hard, God is Good

Life can be very sad sometimes. I thank God that He sustains us through all things. God really meant it when He said, "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

It makes me sad to see the state of our world these days. The addictions, disrespect, disregard for life. It makes me miss my childhood. Even with all of its challenges, the poverty and times of sadness, I miss it so much. I'm not naive to believe that there weren't problems in the world when I was younger. The difference is, I didn't notice. As a child, I viewed the world through child's eyes, which is much different than seeing life through my now adult ones.

Life is hard, this is true. But God is good. And faithful. And kind. And all knowing. I set my heart and eyes on Him, for I know He has plans for me, my family and for our future.

No matter what life brings in the day to day, how bad it looks, or how much I hurt, He holds me close. And that, my friends, brings me peace.

Bad Luck Hair Day

So I've worn my hair long for most of my life. Little by little each year, I've cut it shorter than my norm. I won't lie. I miss my long, silky black hair. When I was younger, my hair was so shiny, silky and healthy that everyone thought my hair was blue. I guess you could have called it "blue black". But, as I've grown more mature, well, let's just say that my hair is just not what it used to be.

I've been trying out new styles for the past couple of years. My hair is still its natural color (black), but I do have to color the gray every four to six weeks. I've heard as you get older, you should go lighter with hair color. So, I decided if I was going to go lighter, I wasn't messing around. I only wanted a salon that specialized in color. I'm glad I didn't ask how much it would cost beforehand, because I probably would have backed out.

Anyway, 4 hours and $225 bucks later, I had this fabulous hair cut and beautiful, new caramel highlights. I watched my stylist style my hair. It looked easy enough. When I came home, my family loved my new look, but made comments like, "Well, I'm sure it'll never look this way again." or "You'll never make it look this good yourself." Well, I was determined. I memorized how she took a round brush to my bangs. I didn't even own a round brush, but rushed out to get one. There were so many to choose from. I finally decided on a small, metal one. After the necessary 2 days, I could finally wash my hair. My family was going to be so proud of me when I presented my new do all by myself! I took the round brush and wrapped my bangs in it. I let them sit for a few minutes and then decided it was long enough so I began to take the brush out. It wasn't budging. I tried again. Nothing. After 10 minutes, I called for Kendra. There was no way I was going to let George see me like this. When she came into my bathroom, she laughed at me and said, "What did you do?!" I told her to shut up and google how to get a metal brush out of your hair. She ran away laughing and came back with a fork.

Downstairs, George and Kolby could hear me crying from the bathroom. The next thing I knew, my entire family was gathered around to see what Mommy had down to herself and laughed at my misfortune. George took the fork from Kendra, got the vaseline and conditioner out and went to work.

And, this video, my friends explains what happened and why I'll stick to the simple look.

A Christmas Memory

When I was 10 years old, my parent's divorced. I was devastated. The first Christmas after the divorce would be our first without Dad. My brother, two sisters, Mom and I had moved to another state to live with our grandmother, so we were far away from Dad. We weren't able to see him for months. Because we didn't have any money, we wouldn't be able to see Dad or vice versa.

On Christmas Eve, there was a knock on the door at my Granny's house. I ran to the door and answered it. I was shocked. I couldn't believe my eyes. There was my father, standing before me. I opened the screen door and jumped in his arms. He twirled me around as I sobbed in his arms.

The toys I asked for? I don't remember one of them. But, this was one Christmas gift I've never forgotten.

I miss you, Dad.