Thanksgiving - Rock on, baby!

Thanksgiving Day was beautiful this year. Very strangely beautiful actually, but I'm no fan of the cold so I'll take it! On Wednesday night, we all hopped into the car and headed out, pies in tow, to the great state of Oklahoma. My concerns of driving in the dark during deer rut season were happily unwarranted, as we made it safe and sound, deer collision free. Though on the side of the road, others were not so lucky. The police were very busy that night. Anyhow, I've veered off point. I seem to do that from time to time. Thanksgiving was good this year. We spent it with Josh's family and the dinner was pretty much Alex-friendly save a few minor dishes that he wouldn't have eaten anyways. I, like my mother before me, had pie duty. I spent what seemed to be endless hours baking pies the day before. Lucky for me (and everyone else's tummies apparently) my mom passed along her joy of baking and cooking to me. I know sugar pretty well thanks to her. It was fun for the kids, especially Alex who is always in his element if there are kids around. And Abby was even mildly social this time. Yay for Abby! It was an all around good time and I'm glad we got to share it with Josh's family this year.

Sadly, with every Thanksgiving comes the inevitable story of some crazy family member doing something quite embarrassing and truly memorable. Unfortunately for me, I was that family memeber. What you are about to read is a true...and mildly embarrassing...account of Thanksgiving 2011. We got the pleasure of having our big meal at Josh's cousin's house, which I've never been to before. They had a room in the back of the house that had a card table set up for the kids to eat at. Beside this table were two old, short-back rocking chairs. Yow know the kind, padded for comfort and wooden legs that were built to withhold the many bottoms that grace it's presence. People had been sitting in them the whole time so when the room cleared out and the chairs were free, I happily set my tired butt down and played with an old magic 8 ball with my niece, Linsey. Abby crawled up onto my lap for some down time. My belly was full of turkey and tasty desserts. And the room was quiet and peaceful. All was right with the world. So yeah...that moment of zen lasted about...oh...five minutes. Suddenly without any warning whatesoever, the legs of this timeless rocking chair spontaneously combusted underneath me. The chair legs shattered, pieces of wood flying through the air in every-which direction. I, like the graceful human I am, merely lie there in a strangely humorous position as I push Abby safely away from the now pile of rubble on the floor. My niece is staring at me with a look that said, "Why is my strange aunt turning bright red and giggling uncontrollably from the floor?" You must understand that when the chair exploded, it also made a quite obvious, earth-shattering sound that could, in fact, be heard on the other side of the house with ease. I'm sure at first, there was concerns for another possible earthquake aftershock, but earthquakes aren't known for giggling. Why was I giggling? Simple. I was absolutely, positively, without a doubt...mortified. I'd just finished eating my six helpings of dessert so I'd already felt freakishly overweight as my cheap wal-mart belt groaned at the pressure of my unusually large meal. So naturally, breaking a chair of the host's house was not looking so good. And as soon as the rest of the house heard the sounds of chaos coming from the back room, their natural reaction was to go in to the room, one by one, to see what could have made such a raucous. Now, if efficiency has taught us anything, once one person sees the cause of the loud booming sound, they could essentially turn around and tell everyone else, saving the poor embarrassed soul from reliving the moment over...and over...and over again. But this was not the case. As each person enters the room, I have to explain to them individually, amidst my constant strain of giggles, that I had in fact shattered the rocking chair by merely sitting in it. As Josh's cousins sift through the rubble of a now worthless chair, I apologize and attempt to regain a shred of self-respect. Sadly, I think the remaining shards of my self-respect will forever be lost with the toothpick like remnants that littered the floor. What have I gained from this experience you might ask? Well, I now have a healthy fear of accepting invitations in other people's houses to 'Have a seat.' I also learned that there is, in fact, a correct answer to that age old Thanksgiving question, "Should I have another piece of pie?" The answer would be NO. You definitely should not. As a matter of fact, I think I'll just swear off of pie...for now.

And that my friends....is the rest of the story.

Hoofprints

Wait! Don't click away from the blog! You're in the right place. I swear you are! What was once The Lemonade Stand has changed. Why, you ask? Eh. I got tired of looking at the lemons. Too bright. Okay. So maybe the reason is slightly more significant than that. Basically I've been wanting something, oh...I dunno...more uplifting? Is that the right word? I ain't gonna lie to ya. It's been a rough couple of years. But hey, who doesn't have rough times? Well...I can think of a few randomly famous people, but we'll skip that.

Basically, as I was sitting around thinking of blog titles that I could use that would encompass who I am, what I believe, and just fit a little better, I thought of the poem Footprints In The Sand. You know the one right? Who doesn't? Just in case, you can read it here. Back in February when I was faced with the loss of Daisy, my cow of 21 years, I remember praying with her in the pasture. It was one of those moments that define who you are. I remember knowing that God was taking care of her from there. I also remember how hard it was to take that last walk with her. I pictured the footprints that would be in the sand of that journey. At first there would be two sets of footprints when God walked beside me. But the harder it got to reach Daisy, there became one set of prints when He carried me in that hard time. With faith, I walked again and in the sand were two sets of footprints as He walked beside me. As I began that long walk with Daisy, there were not two, but three sets of prints that day. Two sets of footprints and one set of hoofprints. As I walked with my friend, both of us terrified and hurting, the footprints became one again. Because there on that part of my journey, He not only carried me, but Daisy as well.

That's how life is. Like everyone, the footprints in the sand of my journey are ever changing. There are so many that walk with me. Big footprints, small footprints, pawprints...and of course hoofprints. But like the poem, I'll always know that no matter how many footprints there are, there will always be at least one set - always there to carry me and the ones I love.

So there you have it. I know, I know. Too deep, right? Well...that's how it is sometimes.

Change

Hey everyone! Change is a brewin' on my blog. My goal is to have it up and where I want it by tonight. (Aunt Rhonnie...I promise...I'm on it! :-)

Arrr! It's Halloween Matey!!

Was that pirate talk in the subject line Jessica?? Why yes. Yes it was. Why you ask? Well, Because I am a pirate! Well, actually I was just a pirate for Halloween. For years now, I've wanted to get in touch with my inner pirate and there is really only one day a year that it would be socially acceptable. Ya know...unless you're actually a pirate. Anyhow, moving on. Halloween gets to be more fun every year with the kiddos. I love that they love it as much as I do. They love dressing up, decorating, and carving pumpkins. And candy! Dare we forget the candy? The first Halloween with Alex trick-or-treating was depressing as finding milk-free candy made me feel so bad for him. Every year it's gotten easier and this year even Alex was looking for non-chocolate treats. What a smart kid! I was so proud of him. He asked me if I could take out all the chocolate for him and when he went to a house where all they gave him was chocolate, he'd say, "Aw man! Chocolate!" Of course they both have buckets almost full of safe food even with all the dangers picked out. And Abby, though normally suction cupped to my leg, was a quite the trick-or-treater. She was the first to the door and yelling "Trick-or-Treat!" with the best of them. She was super polite too. Always saying thank you. I'm just so proud of my kids. We went to our church so the kids could play games and get prizes and then came home and went trick-or-treating. Alex was Captain America, Abby was a fairy princess, Josh was Harry Dresden, and I was a pirate. Abby originally got a costume that was a barbie princess but after seeing the girls at Alex's school dressed in tutus and wings, we had a last minute wardrobe change. Too bad I didn't know this before I spent ten bucks on a barbie costume. Oh well. It was so much fun this year. I know it's weird to say I feel blessed on a holiday like Halloween, but I sure felt that way. I hope you all had a great time as well!

Here's my cool pumpkin. I call him Mr. Juggles. I have to pictures. One with the lights on and one with them off for the full effect. The little pumpkins have faces carved into them too but it's hard to see in photos.

My little trick-or-treaters hard at work!

Alex with his buddy Wesley. Captain America and a Firefighter. Cute.

Some people had pretty cool decorations. This one was super fun.

And of course there's me. I loved my costume.
Pants and shirt: Goodwill $5
Arm cuffs, Hair beads, belt, etc: Free from items around the house & a good ol' needle and thread
Hair: Mine (two-hours to braid)
Being a pirate: Priceless