Thirteen Years Ago, I Fell in Love

Thirteen years and several days ago, I fell in love.  She arrived in mid September of 1995 and stole my heart immediately.  She has spent the past thirteen years solidifying that love and I am immensely grateful everyday I get to be her mom.  Sometimes I look at her and marvel at how much she is like me. . . 

• her quick wit
• her dry sense of humor
• her ringing laugh
• her love of words and the stories they weave
• her ability to get in there and get things done, no matter how boring or mundane the task
• her reaching out when she sees people in trouble
• her fierce loyalty to those she loves

Other times I marvel at how she came from me, how she could be a part of me because there is so much that is foreign to me. . . 

• her passion and drive
• her acute sense of responsibility in all aspects of her life
• her need to make everything ok
• her wanting to please
• her wisdom
• her picky taste in dessert
• her sensibility
• her athleticism-she can do lay up and sink a free throw
• her Boy Scout attitude-always be prepared, as evidenced by the contents of her pockets

The teenage years will be a true test of my ability to see past myself and appreciate all that is different in her.  I know that because of her, because of who she is, we will come out on the other side stronger, more solid, and I will emerge more in love than I ever knew was possible.

My Life as a Man

Last weekend, Sept 20-21, Mel and I headed off to our second of four festivals for this fall.  We have worked our hiney's off getting ready for the festivals and my family has been neglected-to say the least.  I spent Saturday (Micaela's Birthday) at the festival and met Brandon and the girls at Chili's for dinner to celebrate along with Mel and Randy and their kids.  Micaela was opening her presents and with each present I would ask "Who is that from?"  Brandon then looked at me and replied "Us"!  He had done all the shopping and wrapping for her birthday and I got to ooh and aah as she opened them.  Sunday I spent the morning home with Iz who was sick while Brandon went to church and then I headed off to the festival in the afternoon.  I came home to a cooked dinner and Brandon had made a birthday cake for Micaela.  I was happy and fired up from a good festival and Brandon looked and felt like he'd been run over by a truck.  He had spent the weekend schlepping the girls to the 8 million commitments on the calendar, caring for, and feeding them, temper tantrums and all.  I was thinking my life as a man was pretty cool and should be extended beyond a weekend until I realized I was missing the most important part, my "business" does not have to keep the lights on.  The small profit I made last weekend was spent at the festival before I even arrived home.  I am grateful for a man who was willing to swap out for a weekend or two and who loves me enough to schlepp off to work each day to a legitimate business that does keep the lights on.

The Game of Catch Up

At the Reynolds house we're playing the all too familiar game of catch up and the good news is we're finally to the catch up the blog phase.  That means one of two thins,  I've caught up on a long list of other things or there is something that I'm avoiding.  It's probably a little bit of both!  Micaela has helped me out and done some blogging and writing about our summer fun that we will post soon!  

Book Review: The BFG by Roald Dahl

The BFG is a book about a girl who gets snatched by the BFG (Big Friendly Giant). Then they try and stop nine other bone crunching giants. It is a really good book. I would like to read it again. I liked it because it talked about giants. I wish everybody would read it. I think it was interesting because it has a Big Friendly Giant in the book. Now I want to read all of Roald Dahl. 

We've Been Stimulated!

Mel and I (as 2 Sisters in Stitches) spent last weekend in Gay, Georgia at the Cotton Pickin Fair.  Because of a mistake at the hotel, we each got OUR OWN ROOM for the night on Friday night.  If you are reading this as a single person or married person without children, you will not be able to grasp the enormity of what that meant.  I feel like I spent a good portion of my childhood pining for my own room, and once I got it, I spent all my time pining for someone to share my room with.  Now, 14 years and three cute girls later, the prospect of my own room for a night was heaven.  The room had a king size bed even and the lady at the front desk had made us chocolate chip cookies because she knew that we were upset at the hotel (when was the last time someone made you chocolate chip cookies to make you feel better?  That's usually my job as Mom).  I settled into bed in my own room, turned the TV on and got to watch whatever I wanted to, and tried to go to sleep.  After about 15 minutes I heard sirens outside the window that sounded way too close and I got out of bed and started toward the door to go knock on Mel's door and sleep in her room.  I got half way there and the deep breathing kicked in, I headed back to my own bed and went to sleep.  Why is it that we are always pining for something that sounds better, and when we get just what we thought would be perfect, it's not all that it's cracked up to be.  

The festival was really slow but mid-day Sunday, when discouragement was starting to set in, a lady came into the booth looking at the bags, but not what I would consider a "serious" shopper.  She looked forever and then said she had just gotten her tax stimulus check and she was going to "buy myself a pocketbook".  She left the booth several minutes later with a cute bag.  As we packed up our stuff and headed home, we reflected on the positives of the weekend:  our own room for one night, feeding, dressing, and cleaning up after only ourselves for two days, and best of all, being stimulated by George Bush!

Rock our World

We have had a busy April, that started with the loss of a good friend of ours Jessica G. who died suddenly on the morning of April 12.  She has been an awesome employee of ours at the office for three and a half years.  She was 28 when she died, and the most incredible person.  She had the ability to look right into people's hearts.  No job was ever too big or hard, it was always a matter of rolling up her sleeves and getting it done, whatever it was, always without complaint.   She is one of the best things Dahlonega has had to offer and she will be greatly missed.

The loss has thrown me back into full time work at the office, dealing with patients, which are aptly named because they require more of it than I possess.  After the first hour, I asked if all the rain had driven the crazies out of the wood work, and the office staff quickly assured me these are just the normal calls we get throughout the day.  That's the beauty of 2 sisters,  the bags don't talk back!

The Pigs Reappear!

We had the missionaries over for dinner last night and midway through the dinner (which Ava did not stop talking for even one minute) Ava announced that everyone should look at her because she had something so funny to say.  She pulled up the sleeve of her shirt, bent her elbow and started blowing into her elbow, trying to make farting noises.  When that didn't work, she put her hand in her armpit and started pumping her arm up and down.  I asked her what she was doing and she said she was trying to make "flarting" noises like Hannah Montana's dad.  Apparently the manners lesson needs some repeating.