word of the day.

What word is on the tip of your tongue? What word do you see written in the clouds when you ask for a sign?

Today, for me, it's HOPE.

Although hope deferred makes the heart sick, fresh hope gives you wings. And what good is having wings if you don't use them?







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the latest and greatest

when me moved to huntsville, alexandria was 7, abraham was 4, and matthew was almost 2. we didn't bring their bikes with us- there was no room in the u-haul. we planned to replace them immediately...5 years later, we're just getting around to it. the first place we lived was questionable and our current street is pretty busy, so i never made it a priority. i've felt so bad that my boys didn't know how to ride bikes, it is after all, kinda one of the best things about childhood. it's the wind to your back, it's the the freedom you feel- there's just nothing else like it. abraham is learning without the benefit of training wheels, no easy task.

so, we're back in business. the wind is in our sails again (not my sails per se, i just stand by and yell "car" every 11 seconds, and watch them scramble.)

they aren't the only ones benefiting from the great outdoors, i have added walking to my fitness regimen. who am i kidding, i had no fitness regimen...but that's changing. the weirdest thing about being outside more is the interaction with neighbors. abraham and i got stuck talking to one of the neighborhood watch ladies, who i thought was accusing me of stealing an ipod- she wasn't. She told us of every crime that had been committed on her street in the last 50 years, and make a racist comment. She proceeded to tell abraham if he was ever in need of help, he could knock on her door. she warned that he might get her mentally challenged 35 year old son- if that's not every mom's worst nightmare, i don't know what is. I was also told to "take a picture, it will last longer" by a teenage girl and her 2 member street gang. I giggled and said "you too!" I think mean girls are funny, so stupid and funny.

but mostly i get friendly waves, and barked out by ridiculously cute dogs. i get to listen to music and really hear the lyrics, no chatter- just me and whomever is singing in my ear. it's pretty fantastic.

and as i mentally curse my thunder-thighs, i feel the wind to my back. I hear a little voice that tells me to keep going, it says "go faster, just one more block, everything is okay at home...the dishes can wait, the laundry will get done, just keep going." and i listen, i'm cashing in on whatever freedom i've earned. i feel like i could just take off jogging, but i seriously can't. but walking fast is good enough for me. so i walk as fast as i can without humiliating myself. it's pretty awesome that most of the people in the neighborhood are like 100, or have john deere mailboxes, so it's pretty easy not to care.

just another snowy sunday

We woke up to snow this morning, it was beautiful.
I just wanted to gaze out the window and watch it fall, and get lost in my thoughts.
That of course didn't happen.

I think the biggest challenge as a mom with three kids, is keeping peace in the house.
I want my house to be soft and glowy, clean and sweet...
most of the time it's the exact opposite.

And sometimes I wonder what if:

• I had a sister, and we were super close, and my kids were like her kids, and we helped each other.
  
• My mom lived close by, and I could just drop one (or more) of the kids off when they were driving me crazy.
• I didn't have an insane work schedule, and job that took most of my energy.
• I was just one of those women who can pull it all off, and still seem like they still have more to give.

I know 'what if's' are pointless, but still, I wonder. I wonder why I've been chosen to 'do life' without the support I crave- the support I know I could give in return.

These are the things I ponder on snowy Sundays mornings.

How cute are my parents?

Celebrating 40 years of marriage on Valentine's day... ladies and gentlemen, I give Mr and Mrs Dan Duke.


They're out on the town in Belo
tonight.
Mom says they have the city is to themselves because everyone went Rio for Carnival.

I love you, mom & dad!

the icing dialogues.

So the circus was a smashing success.
We managed to keep it a secret from Abraham until about an hour before showtime.
I think that was the longest I've ever kept a surprise quiet.
About 2 days before his birthday, he asked me if we were just going to celebrate at home, I said yes. He very sincerely replied "that's awesome."

poor baby.

He picked a "Jacksonville Jaguars" cake to take to school, that boy loves his homeland.
The jaguars are a NLF team- for those of you who hate football like I do, and therefore wouldn't know.

On his birthday, I had the weirdest feeling. I had actually done things in advance. No last minute scrambling. It was weird- and wonderful.

I went to pick up the cake which I had PRE-ordered (with the only kind of icing that the school would allow) but they got it wrong, and I was out of time.
They never really said it WASN'T whipcream...but we all knew.

So, I stood there, having an internal dialogue with myself about how whipcream and buttercream both have sugar listed as the first ingredient.
I know it has less lard, but they serve those kids country fried steak and gravy with tater-tots on the side.
double standards much?

I talked it over with Carlos. I talked it over with the bakery ladies- who didn't seem to have any customer service awards in their future.
Did I really want to pick a fight?
They had mullets.

But rules are rules, right?
And they're serious about those rules... on Matthew's birthday, Carlos had to scrape the icing off of 22 cupcakes- much to the horror of Mrs. Moon's 1st grade class.
But that was before I knew the public school's policy on icing.

This time, I had done everything right.
I ordered it 3 days ahead of time, I told them several times that it had to be whipcream.
I tried my best!

So in the end, I made them change the label. Does that make me a bad person?

Being unsure if I could pull it off, I wrote a note to the teacher about how I had "ordered" cake with whipcream icing, to bring to lunch for Abraham's birthday... and left the rest out.
Nobody asked me any questions at the school, so I never had to lie.

I swear, if whipcream had any less sugar, I never would have done it. never.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.