I've always thought Will Smith was amazing...

I have thought Will Smith was a genius from the time I heard an interview with him when I was a kid.  Read this little excerpt about why he vowed not to use profane language in his music years ago.

http://www.wildwildwillsmith.com/bio.html

This video is amazing.  Take a look...

Photo Book

Click here to view this photo book larger

Keep Hoppin'...

Today was the day we collected for our RAOK (Random Acts of Kindess) Day.  I have been promoting this to all of my 721 Facebook friends for a couple of weeks now.  I have asked for donations as simple as old newspapers or bottles of bleach or shampoo.  Natalie, her friend Eve, and I set up at the entrance of the church parking lot this evening at 6:50 and we waited...and waited...and waited...
The only donation we received was a couple of pairs of socks from our Pastor.  I was so disgusted.  I was so discouraged.  See...in my naivity, I had such high hopes for this for my daughter.  I really wanted her to leave the church knowing that a 9 year old girl really CAN make a difference in the world. 
At 7:54 pm, I told the girls it was time to go ahead and pack up.  We hadn't received any donations except for the socks and I was getting tired and still had to hit the grocery store for ice cream for the party tomorrow.  They were persistant, however.  They said they wanted to stay a little while longer.  A few minutes later, a member of our church stopped by and brought us a huge bag of newspapers to take to the shelter. 
Then...a few minutes later...a car pulled in.  It was a "beater" as my husband would call an older car with probably 200k miles on it.  The lady inside looked as if maybe she didn't have a lot.  She had a toddler strapped in a carseat in the back.  She asked the girls what they were doing.  They tried to explain to her and then I stepped in and started to explain, the whole time thinking to myself...this lady is probably thinking we're handing out stuff and wants in on it.  It was a terrible superficial judgement that I made.  We told her what all we were collecting and she sort of giggled and said, "Well I don't have any of that with me, but if I give you all a cash donation, you will get some of those things with it?"  I couldn't believe it.  There I was thinking that as soon as this young lady found out what we were doing that she would exit stage left pronto.  The kind lady then proceeded to tell us how much she loved animals and she knew the shelter helped so many animals and what a great organization SafeHome is.  She told us that she had to utilize SafeHome a while back, so it was very dear to her heart.  Then she unzipped her change purse and handed Natalie a $20 bill.  Tears welled up in my eyes and I knew this was all supposed to happen.  It never fails.  Every.single.time.  I was planning on getting bleach and laundry detergent and dog food.  That's all.  I wasn't expecting blessings. 
And we were blessed. 
After the lady left, Natalie said, "Mom, I wanted to cry when she was telling us that."  I smiled and said, "I did."  And so it begins...a spirit for giving; Seeing the circle of being in need and then getting back on your feet and giving back. 
A few minutes after that happened, JoAnn & Marty Forbes walked up with a bag of donations for SafeHomes and I remembered when Marty's mom, Pat "Punk" Kegley Tabor brought me a big food donation at the church when I was collecting food.  What a nice family reputation it is to have a reputation for giving. 
The United Methodist Men were meeting tonight at our church.  Our Pastor came outside right before we left and said to the girls, "Come in here and bring your fliers."  The girls did just that.  Our Pastor's husband, Pastor Jim had already heard about what Nat was doing so he quickly told the men that for her birthday, Natalie was giving to others and he challenged them to give to help the worthy causes.  When we left the church, Natalie had collected a bag of newspapers, 2 pairs of socks, a bag of donations for SafeHome and $96 in cash.  When we got back home, our neighbor threw in $4 to make it an even $100.  Natalie will split that and make a $50 monetary donation to the Humane Society and a $50 donation to SafeHomes.  I'm not disgusted anymore.  I'm not discouraged.  Through tears, I can say that I am ENCOURAGED.  I'm so very encouraged.  Keep hoppin Nat :) 

9 Random Acts of Kindess Birthday Party...

"If you have much, give of your wealth; If you have little, give of your heart”

Natalie's 9th birthday is Monday, July 25 and on August 12, we are doing a “9 Random Acts of Kindness” Birthday Party (9 for 9 years old!)

I can't take credit for this idea, as I was inspired to do this particular party from the following blog post I stumbled upon:  http://theletteredcottage.net/sweet-party-ideas

I love birthdays.  I love my friends and family and I love celebrating life.  After a birthday, my very frugal father will always say, "Ya went a little overboard again didn't you?"  Maybe Definately so, but I don't want my kids' birthdays to be "just another day." 

With inspiration from this blog post, Natalie and I have come up with 9 random acts of kindness that we have planned for the birthday party:

1) Donation/Volunteer at Safehomes (will check to see what they need)
2) Walk dogs and leave treats at Animal Shelter
3) Take homemade treats for the residents and staff at the nursing home
4) Take flowers to hospital and leave for the volunteers to give to patients who don't have flowers
5) Volunteer at Food Pantry (my mom does the Snack Packs for needy kids (they pack them at South Covington UMC) so she is going to show them what they do)
6) Stand outside Walmart and hand out free lollipops to kids (and young at heart!)
7) Place fliers under windshield wipers in Walmart Parking Lot that say “It’s Natalie’s 9th Birthday and we are celebrating by doing 9 random acts of kindness! Have a great day and pass on an act of kindness today!”
8) Go through the McDonald's drive thru and pay for the person behind us
9) Put change in all of the gumball machines and drink machines at the supermarket

When we return from our adventure, we will have birthday cake and food and watch this little diddy...

And then there is this scene from The Pursuit of Happyness makes me cry like a baby...

We will take plenty of pictures and shoot plenty of video during the day and it is my hope to make the girls a DVD of our pictures throughout the day and mail to them the following week.  I’ll be sure to upload it on here for all of you to see as well!

I can’t wait to see the faces of giving…

“You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” ~Kahlil Gibran

P.S. Feel free to copy this idea and do your own random acts of kindess party!

UPDATE!!!  Here is how the day went!

Well it's Father's Day.  June 19, 2011.  Hopefully Kevin had a good day.  He has been working nights and pretty much we could have handed him the keys to a brand new corvette and we would have probably gotten a half-smile at best.  Tonight is his last night though and then he starts vacation.  He's lucky that he is one of those people that everybody likes.  There's an older guy at the mill that likes him and each year, Bo hands him the vacation sign-up sheet and let's him pick a good summer week, while Bo takes a crappy week in the winter that Kevin would've gotten if not for trading with him. 

Natalie has been gone to Busch Gardens for three days with a friend and I have been missing her like crazy.  I didn't realize how much I love having her around.  Vacations from kids (and vice versa) are good.  Missing somebody is good for the soul.  I redecorated Natalie's room for her while she was gone and I am hoping she will be totally surprised and love it.  I didn't do any of the things I thought I was going to do.  I didn't repaint, but instead, I updated fabrics, rearranged furniture, and got new rugs and curtains.

It's fine with me.  It's cute enough.  It doesn't twang my buds like a big fluffy white down comforter and white gauzy drapes, but that's not real thrilling to an almost 9 year old I suppose.  Well at least not Natalie.  I left the room sort of bare bones besides the new fabrics because I want her to put her input into the rest of the room.  I made this for her a while back and can't wait to get it attached above her bed...

It was a fun project that I found from a really cool blog http://karapaslaydesigns.blogspot.com/  I used foam core and then crumpled up tissue paper and glued to the foam core.  I cut the letters out of magazine pictures to give the glossy finish and the border is some zebra fabric I had leftover from a previous project.  I just have to figure out how the heck I'm going to attach it!

We will be heading to Indiana for Kevin's family reunion this month and all of my closest buds laugh as they describe the trip as (and I quote) "The Griswolds go to Indiana."  Just to bring that statement to life, let me describe my morning at church with the kids.  My kids have been raised in church and they are normally as well behaved as any kids who have been raised in church are.  Today somebody must have slipped them a Red Bull or a Monster though.  They were bouncing off the walls!  They were giggling about the announcement of a PPR meeting (PP hee hee).  They were talking and not sitting still.  At one point, out of nowhere, a flash fills the congregation.  I looked over and Wyatt had dug my camera out of my purse and turned it around to face him (which also faced the 10 rows behind us) and took a pic of himself.  Exhibit A...

Yeah...then I heard giggling behind us.  We have great people in our church that have "been there, done that" and giggle at my silly kiddos when I'm wanting to "jerk a knot in their tail."  After a prayer and a hymn, I saw another flash.  This time he got the hymnal...

Suffice it to say, the camera was jerked out of little hands and placed by mom for the remainder of the service.  If that wasn't crazy enough, this same child literally fell off the pew during the service.  He was lying down and wrapped up in his "prodigal son robe" and got tangled up and literally fell from the lying down position onto the floor.  My dad was sitting behind me and got so tickled that I thought he was going to have to leave.  Yeah. Yeah.  It's the Griffith Family Way of Life.

Pass it on...

I have a million things that I should be doing right now, but I need to write about last night’s experience while it’s still very fresh in my mind.
Last night I loaded up my kids and one extra one and we headed to Greenbrier East High School for a Habitat for Humanity basketball game.  It was the ABA WV Blazers team and a team put together from several WV high school girls basketball stand-outs along with some local and state “celebrities.”
What a wonderful night of entertainment…and despite the fact that I was given back $5 in change at the door when it should’ve been $15, I feel like they are the ones who got stiffed rather than me!  The little bit that I was capable of donating really was a drop in the bucket for the blessings that I received and the entertainment and fun provided.
Can you think of any other game you have ever gone to when the game was stopped for everyone (including the players) to do the chicken dance or the YMCA?

My oldest son got to go down and get “dressed up” in a WVU cap and a sequined purse before the start of the game and my youngest son got to throw a ball inbounds with the help of Bimbo Coles.  It was awesome.
After the game was over, all players stayed to sign autographs until the last autograph wanted was signed.

The family that the house was being built for—a young woman and her four children, under the age of six--were present and every time I saw her, she was wiping tears from her eyes.  She had been living with her four children in two bedrooms in a shelter.  The house will truly be a blessing to her.

Possibly the most inspirational part of the evening was when a lady sitting three rows down from us was asked to come out on the court.  One of the executives from Habitat was telling about the applicant process and told us all that this woman was an applicant waiting to be approved for a house.  The woman was shy and probably a little bit embarrassed (as I imagine we all would be in that position.)  I know I get embarrassed and proud when I have to ask my dad for $100 for something or another—much less when I am put in front of an entire crowd to let my needs known.  After the representative told about the journey, she made an announcement that this lady’s application had been approved and that she and her young son would be getting a Habitat for Humanity House within the next year.  The woman was so gracious and humbled and as she and the lady from Habitat embraced. 

I looked immediately in front of me and I am guessing it was either the mother or sister of the lady receiving the house.  She lifted her arms in the air and she began to sob.  She put her arms down and she’d look down at the lady on the court and then her arms lifted again and she cried and her mouth moved in what I know was praise and thankfulness to God.  She took her glasses off and wiped her eyes.  The lady receiving the house returned to her seat and they embraced and cried some more.  It was so profound and I hope I will never forget it.

You and I are so very blessed.  It is my hope that those who receive these gifts from Habitat for Humanity will go on to live their lives in a way that will continue to inspire us all to be loving, giving persons and to always be mindful of our fellow brothers and sisters around the world and in our own backyards who are in need—to continue the “pass it on” way of life.  If this is not the purpose of life, then what is?

Double Clicks & Amish Bling

Five more weeks of school!  I can’t believe I have come this far.  Of course I have a LONG road ahead of me, but I am forging along and keeping one eye on the prize and the other eye on the three classes at a time I will take to attain this much desired teaching profession.  I am still trying to get the balancing act down.  I wonder if I will ever truly be able to do the balancing thing?  I am such a procrastinator and a “last-minute, under-pressure" kind of gal.

My mind is in constant rotation all hours that I am awake.  I constantly have dental appointments, classroom observation hours, work hours, sports practice days, grocery lists, home projects, inspirational quotes and thoughts, children’s ministries ideas, money worries.  Constant activity.  It’s truly exhausting. 

I was thinking tonight how I wish my brain was configured like my word processor.  I wish I had a System file in my brain and had folders in there for “Appointments, School, Work, House, Garden, Church, Creativity, Personal Maintenance, Vehicles.”  Each of those folders would then have subfolders—Doctor, Dental, Orthodontist; Stats, Lit, Education; Work days and hours; Cleaning, decorating, projects; plants, hardscapes; kids’ projects, birthday parties, entertaining, inspiration; hair, nails, skincare, diet, exercise, meal planning.  How completely awesome would it be to have an organized brain like that?  I could just pull out one of those files and know exactly what it is that I am supposed to be responsible for tomorrow at 10 am and I won’t show up a month early or a week late for a dentist appointment.  I won’t forget to pack lunches or wash basketball jerseys.  I could pull out my organized to-do list and maybe the last of the kitchen painting wouldn’t be 7 months overdue. 

When I actually have a weekend without responsibilities (okay, it’s my dream…go with it) I could click the file marked creativity and double click “make inspiration wall for Natalie’s room” and actually be focused enough to do it.  But nooooo.  What do I do?  I just have it all jumbled up in my head and my “free time” is spent playing catch-up on wiping the footprints out of the bottom of the fridge and sitting down and reading the newspaper from a week ago that I didn’t have time to read or my favorite…walking around the house shaking my head because it’s all a disaster and I can’t even find a starting point.

It’s so overwhelming sometimes…this life thing—marriage and parenting and the ins and outs of managing a household.  I often think back to when I only had one child…or even two.  Back when they were small.  It was so easy back then.  But guess what?  It WASN’T easy then!  It was tough!  I was sleep deprived, my boobs hurt from nursing, I had no idea when Riley would ever talk, and I smelled like a combination of baby poop and sour spit up.   Looking back it seems like the easiest times of my life though. One day when my kids are in college or I’m helping my daughter decide on a wedding dress, I’m going to think…man, it was so easy and slow when she was 8.

I spend a lot of time reading quotes.  I am a self-professed quote junkie and am very inspired by the great words of others.  I keep a file of quotes (not in my brain) but on my computer :)  I send my friends text messages almost daily with some feel-good quote that I have run across in my reading.  I saw a quote not so long ago about the past and the future.  Of course I forgot to save it, but it was something like “We remember the past greater than it actually was and we see the future bleaker than it really is.”  That’s not the direct quote, but it’s something like that.  And it's so completely true.  When I was in high school, I remember people saying, "Enjoy these days.  They are the best of your life."  And in the respect that I didn't have any responsibilities to speak of...well, they were.  But they were also tough times.  I will tell my kids the same thing, but I know they will remember those days greater than they actually were.  I think back to the days when my children were babies.  I remember it being blissfully slow-paced and wonderful.  I am pretty sure it was hard as heck though.  I’m pretty sure I was sleep-deprived and lonely for adult interaction and a conversation that didn’t involve bodily functions or imaginary friends.

I am a woman who craves change and spontaneity and excitement, so one would think I would lovingly embrace the fast paced life I am living, yet more often than not, I would like to dig my heels in and bring time to a screeching halt.  I would like to catch up with the things that seem to hold me back so I can get to the things that I love.  I’d like to stop the motion of life and just smell the roses—sit down and enjoy that second cup of coffee instead of running out the door with it.  The pace of life is so very fast.  I often feel like we are all doing our children a disservice by over-scheduling their lives.  Do I stop it though?  No...I schedule right along with all of the rest of you, because I think they might be missing out on something.  I wonder if we’re all going to realize in twenty years that the things they missed out on were things like building forts and skipping rocks and making mud pies and playing hopscotch—the being kids stuff.

Last weekend I joked that I would like to move out in the middle of nowhere and pick up Amish-like practices.  I joked that I would trade in my sexy high-heeled boots and Bare Minerals cosmetics for starched blouses, skirts to my ankles and lace bonnets.  We would pick up a simpler way of life, grow our own food, raise our own livestock and maybe find a more enriching life.  I wonder how long I could actually last like that?  I wonder if I would find a more enriching life or if I would be a miserable Amish woman who burnt everything she cooked and who corrupted the entire population by forming a secret group to make some bling for our bonnets?

As much as I’d like to slow down life and play catch up, the truth is, I’d probably be more miserable than the electronic-addicted children I am raising.  So I guess I will keep muddling through life without my brain files and maybe I will start making some actual hard-copy lists to double click on the off-chance I find some free time along the way. 

"You're an idiot!"

This is a quote from the final episode of the sitcom, “8 Simple Rules” which starred John Ritter up until his death…

Cate: [reading Paul's last article]
Okay readers, today we're having a little pop quiz, it's multiple choice, so sharpen your number 2 pencils and put your thinking caps on. Ready?
Here's a quote: "Dad, you're an idiot."
Now, contestants, this was said to me because of which of the following transgressions? A: Coming to the breakfast table wearing pajamas and black socks?
B: Asking my oldest daughter if that guy I saw her talking to yesterday at school was her boyfriend?
C: Referring to rapper Fiddy Cent as "Fifty Cents"? or
D: Entering the room?
Okay, pencils down. Actually it was a trick question. The answer is all of the above. Now do you know how many times I called my father an idiot? Zero.
Why? Because I feared him.
Back then we didn't share our deep personal feelings, our deepest conversations usually revolved around the Tigers bull pen.
But MY kids, I can't get them to shut up!
There's not a feeling that my kids are afraid to express over and over and over.
And my wife reassures me this is a good thing over and over and over, and she's always right.
So do I wish that my kids feared me? Well my house would be quieter, and I'd spend a lot less time in the bathroom, but no.
Because I know that whenever they insult me whether it's a "You're an idiot," "You're a geek," or an "I hate you," an "I love you" isn't far behind.
And it's the knowledge that my wife and kids love me that makes it safe for me to wear pajamas and black socks to the breakfast table.

I remember this final episode of 8 Simple Rules. I remember this part of the show in particular.

I was sobbing at this point. The year was 2003. I was the proud Mom of a 5 year old preschooler and a 1 year old little girl. Everyone was saddened by the death of John Ritter…a television icon. The final episode made me think about family past, present and future…

I visited my grandparents last weekend. Words can’t express the love and admiration and complete adoration I have for my grandparents. I am their only grandchild. Only child and only grandchild. Perhaps I have been a wee bit spoiled in my life, but I have tried to always maintain graciousness for everything in my life that my parents and grandparents have given me. The most important thing they have given me didn’t hurt their wallets though…it has been their time. I have found myself getting caught up in the hustle and bustle of life over the last few years, and I feel like I haven’t been giving my kids the most basic of needs…my time. Sure, they have iPods and Wiis and Nintendo DS’s and DirecTV receivers in every room of the house , but I have been slacking in the time that I have been devoting to them. This is not something that I am proud of.

I was piddling at my grandparents’ house the other day and I wanted a sheet of paper. I looked around and found a spiral notebook and opened it up to grab a piece of paper. When I opened it up, I saw it dated the Fall of 2000 and it started “Dear Riley…” It went on to tell my then 2 year old son how much great grandma loved God and her family and him and the changing seasons and the beautiful world God made. As I flipped through the pages of the notebook, I couldn’t believe that she had left this treasure for my children. I wish the kids could’ve seen their great grandparents 25 years ago, when they were so much more lively and full of energy, but I am so very glad that they have had the opportunity to know these wonderful grandparents.

The following quote reminds me of my grandma:
“When I admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in worship of the Creator” ~Mahatma Gandhi

That’s my grandma, alright. She loves the basics in life. She and my Papaw have spent the bulk of their lives in their Bibles and in prayer and taking in the simple things of life…watching the robins in the spring, watching the gray squirrels run about the yard and quietly and selflessly giving to others.

Flipping through the pages of the notebook, the tears started flowing down my cheeks as my Grandma recited poems that she had learned in grade school about the fall leaves. She told the kids how I used to sit under a tree at Concord and write her letters (I had forgotten about this, but Momaw didn’t.) She told them about the winter snows of her childhood and how the winter soon turned into spring and then summer and all over again. My grandma really is the Proverbs 31 woman. I got to thinking about my life and my missteps and my imperfections. I could blog for the rest of my life, just on those things, alone. I think if there was something I could do butt backwards, I have done it. I got married at the ripe ole age of 20. I spent my 21st birthday 6 months pregnant, while most other girls my age were spring breaking in Daytona. I didn’t finish my Bachelor’s degree as I set out to do, and I don’t live in the big, roomy house in the suburbs like I always dreamed of. I have a stack of bills that I worry about getting paid every month. I yell at my kids too much. I get frustrated with life in general on a daily basis. I smoke from time to time, I drink from time to time, and there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in quite a few years that I didn’t utter a curse word. I keep balances on my credit cards, I don’t volunteer enough, and I complain too much, among a multitude of other faults I possess.

Last night I went to Oak Hill, West Virginia with my Dad to Family Night for my Papaw’s sister, Dorothy. Dorothy was Papaw’s last living sibling. Momaw and Dorothy lived together when Papaw went off to war. I walked in the chapel of the funeral home and looked in the casket at Aunt Dorothy. She didn’t look like the Dorothy who came down to Covington for my 8th birthday…the birthday when I got my orange 20 inch Huffy. She looked so old to me. I sat down on the pew in the chapel and I thought that it wouldn’t be too much longer until I would be there for Momaw or Papaw--Momaw will be 90 in July and Papw will be 91 in June. I thought about how much older Momaw and Papaw looked to me at that moment…just like Aunt Dorothy. Then I watched Momaw get up and work that room, like a movie star. I heard people say, “I have to get over there and talk to Thelma (that’s Momaw).” I watched her talk to Aunt Dorothy’s children and I know she was telling them stories about the “pet” groundhog that she and Dorothy bottle-fed, and the way they used to walk to the tippy-tops of the hills and sleigh-ride down when they were young--and I‘m sure she let them know that she had talked with Dorothy last week and made sure she had been reading her Bible and praying. I realized how many other people looked up to my grandma. I realized even more at that moment, what an incredible servant she was, and how important her friendship and thoughtfulness and faithfulness had been to so many people over the years. I thought about family and I thought about the kind of person I wanted to be.

On the ride home, I looked over at my Dad and thought about what a wonderful mother this man had. And I know that’s why he has been such a wonderful father to me. I thought about my grandma again and how she has always been there for me. I thought again about how everyone wanted to see her and hug her last night…I have a feeling she has been there for them over the years, too. She’s the best listener I know. She calls me every single morning. And sometimes I’m too “busy” to talk to her. Sometimes I don’t even answer the telephone. I’m not going to do that anymore. Sooner, rather than later, Momaw won’t be calling me on the telephone…she will be going home to be with Aunt Dorothy and her Mother and Father and all the other loved ones she has lost along this long, but yet so very short, journey of life.

I’m different from Momaw. Very different. I talk about things with my kids that she would never dream of talking about. Life is different in 2010 than it was in 1940. Raising kids is different. My Dad would’ve never called my grandmother an idiot when he was growing up--just like in the 8 Simple Rules dialogue. I’m sure I called my dad that though--and I’m CERTAIN my kids have called ME that. My Dad wouldn’t have run through my grandma’s house like my kids do…or uttered the word “fart” at the kitchen table. I am a lot different than my grandma in so many respects. I only hope our hearts are similar. I’m certain my heart will never be as huge and as pure as my grandmas, but I hope when I’m 89 and see my family at the funeral home, that they will all come to me and seek comfort and familiar-ness and love. I hope they will think about me on the ride home and think what a good listener I was and how I was always there for them…

Isn’t that what it’s all about? Being there for each other? Supporting one another and comforting one another when life is great and when we are so tired and so weary and so lost that we can’t lift our heads? Love can be defined in so many ways…here’s my latest stab at it…

Love…what does it mean? Does it mean this overwhelming feeling of needing someone and them needing you? Does it mean happiness? Does it mean smiles and light and sunshine and rainbows? Does it mean flowers and birds chirping? I have discovered that love means never giving up. God knows I’m a royal pain in the butt…so does my dad, my husband, my kids, my mom, my grandparents and my friends. Yet none of these people give up on me. I can say I’m sorry when I disappoint them or do things that are unpleasing to them and they forgive me. And when I forgive them for their imperfections, I return love.

Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned...Confessions of a Scatter-brained Mom of 3

Confessions of a Scatter-brained mom of 3...

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…
It has been…oh good grief…I can’t even keep track of whether I showered or not on a daily basis…like I could possibly remember how many days it’s been since my last confession.

1. I’ve been driving what I refer to as “the short bus” this week. Actually it’s just my Town & Country, but when I fill it with kids to drop off at Preschool, it suddenly becomes bus-like to me. On Wednesday at my last pick-up of the morning, I buckled all children in their carseats and shut the sliding side door of the van...right on my thumb. I jumped and I cursed and I screamed. I got in the van and the pain intensified and I was shaking my thumb and saying my ouchies and then I asked the three 4 year olds to PLEASE give me some pity because that would make me feel better. You know what they did? Wyatt offered to drive the van and then Madelyn struck up a conversation with him about how he was too young to drive. I had to nip that small talk in the bud and tell them that they needed to focus on ME and asking me if I was ok. (They never did) I hope I didn’t say any words that they will later repeat when they mash their little appendages.

2. Wyatt is now on letter Q in preschool. For those of you who do not know this, Q is the 17th letter of the alphabet. So to sum this up, the Q worksheets are the 17th homework assignment that I have left on the refrigerator instead of sending in Wyatt’s backpack. Grrr…my best friend has informed me that perhaps the addition of sticky notes in my life would be a helpful addition.

3. I made chicken parmesan this week. Finally…something that doesn’t include the word “tot,” “minced,” or “processed.” I was doing great. Around 7:30 I discovered the oven was set at 350, but the Bake knob had been turned to OFF. You have to freaking be kidding me!!! We FINALLY had dinner at 8:30 that night, then straight to bed.

4. I ate an entire bag of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milano cookies. I don’t know how I did it. But I just couldn’t stop. In my defense…I had a very small lunch that day.

4. I have dyed my hair 4 times in 24 hours. I have spent enough money on Over The Counter hair dye that I could’ve gone to a Swedish Spa and had my hair colored and been fed Mint Milanos by a Sexy Swedish Cookie Baker.
You know how convicted felons cannot buy guns? Well people who have had to do color correction on their hair in the last 6 months should be placed on hair color probation and then have to be placed on some kind of wait list before being allowed to buy hair color from the drug store.

5. I completely forgot to take snacks to preschool in November. I just dropped Wyatt off snackless. That was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. This oversight occurred to me on Sunday night AFTER Thanksgiving. I was mortified. I felt like the biggest loser-mom on the planet. Poor Wyatt…if he would’ve been born first, he would’ve had a much better shot at things…like a clean face for instance. Ok, well I swore I would never do that again. Wyatt had snacks last Friday. We had a snow day…funny joke, God. I bet it would’ve been 70 and sunny if I would’ve forgot those snacks again. Anyway, pretzels and sugar wafers are in the bag for next month if I don’t go off and forget them on top of the fridge with the homework.

6. I sent Natalie to school in brand new sneakers the other day. She outgrows things faster than lightning these days. She needed a new pair of sneakers…so we got her a new pair of sneakers. I put the new shoes on her and tied them and sent her on her way. When she stepped off the bus and through the door at 4 pm, she humiliatingly informed us that she was wearing 2 different shoes. Granted, this was a screw-up on the part of Shoe Show, but I tied the darn things that morning…seriously did not notice, though.

8. I recently cleaned the interior of my van. My dad told me (direct quote)…”I don’t think I’d clean it now…wait a couple more days and that way you can use a shovel.” You know those pockets behind the seats…great for stuffing coloring books or magazines in? Yeah, well one of the kids stuffed a McDonald’s cup in there apparently. It had a drink in it. I started pulling things out and seriously found a pile of napkins or something that I couldn’t identify due to the MILDEW that was growing on it!!!! Yeah, that was a lovely smell. Can’t imagine why I’ve been sicker than the average bear here lately (rolls eyes) Finally got rid of the smell and then the dog puked on the seat today. Go figure.

More confessions next week…unless I get perfect between now and then.

I'm Thankful For...But these other things sure do make life waaay more enjoyable!

In addition to the serious thins I am thankful for…(Jesus Christ, My family, kids, hub, my pets, my health, my friends, having all my needs met…)

I have listed and additional 20 things that make my life much more enjoyable!

Things I am Thankful For:

1. White composite filling material for my teeth. I have a bazillion fillings, but I can fool people into thinking I have perfect teeth!
2. Instant mashed potatoes.
3. Along the same lines…frozen pancakes.
4. HGTV, Lifetime, and Soapnet or as I call them…the Estrogen Trio.
5. Mr. Clean Magic Erasers.
6. Facebook--what an incredibly wonderful old-friend finder, new friend maker, Farmville/mafiawar addicting guilty pleasure.
7. Sensual Amber Bath and Body Works Lotion. Nobody knows I just stepped in puppy poo or somebody puked on me once I use this cover-scent.
8. Toll House Flipsides Pretzel Crackers. One of my guilty pleasures. Almost as good as a Reese Cup.--Half pretzel, half cracker.
9. Bud Light Lime and Backporchin’
10. Country Music and Hole in the wall Honky Tonks.
11. Nerf Dart Guns
12. Pine Sol (beyond it’s huge aphrodisiac quailties for my hub, I can also fill my sink with the stuff and everybody thinks my disgustingly dirty house is clean.
13. The Hamilton Beach Brewstation
14. Crest White Strips--takes care of the stains incurred in # 13
15. “Stretch” jeans (I find this one ESPECIALLY beneficial during this time of the year)
16. Hazelnut lattes
17. Clear spray Sunblock--not sure what I did back when I actually had to use my actual hands and “rub” it in.
18. Going through Whistling Tony’s aisle at Walmart.
19. Fleece Jammies--nothing quite like coming home cold and tired and surrounding yourself in quality K-Mart fleece. Aahhh…that’s the life
20. I would be amiss if I left out my cell phone. The thought of losing my phone or it getting destroyed gives me heart palpitations. I need that thing with me at all times…My lifeline my hub calls it. It’s true. I admit it and I am sure I need an intervention, but I really don’t want to imagine a world without cell phones. I love you Samsung Alias and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Post Marley & Me Reflections...

Post Marley & Me Reflections…

Saturday night the kids went on sleepovers and I finally got a chance to stake my claim to the television. I rented Marley & Me. If you haven’t read the book or watched the movie…stop reading right here and go do that and then get back to my blog…it’ll be in my notes.

I had heard how this movie was going to make me cry. That’s a given for pretty much any movie for me though, so I was ready for that…

What I wasn’t ready for was an incredible story that I felt like I could’ve written myself. I can’t think of a movie where there were so many things that I could relate to…so many things that seemed to have been pulled right out of one of my journals. Of course the story wouldn't have been the same without Marley, but it was so much more than a movie about a dog.

I didn’t have a list going into my marriage. I’m not a big planner. And I’ve thought a lot about how life would’ve turned out if I would’ve had a plan…a 3 year plan…a 5 year plan…a 10 year plan. Kevin and I moved in together on Halloween of 1996. When we moved in together, I was taking about 15 credit hours at Concord and 12 at National Business College. I was in transition of transferring over to National Business College because I wasn’t sure that teaching was the route I wanted to take. Kevin worked all day and I went to school day and night and we met up for dinner and then he left for welding school at night.

He finished up his welding training in May of 1997 and I finished up at National in the fall of 97 right after we got married in August. I went through the May graduation ceremony at National all decked out in my cap and gown with my 4.0 average and my big ole belly…I was 6 months pregnant.

I had a short stint working in Bluefield at Willis Chiropractic--I was part-time and working mostly Saturday mornings and all day Saturday Health Fairs. After I found out I was pregnant, I knew immediately that I could not imagine a life of me working and somebody else with baby, so I quit my job and put every ounce of my being into preparing to be a Mom. Of course I would learn that within a year, the full-time Office Administrator would accept a job elsewhere and I could’ve worked myself into a great job. Ha. Wasn’t important to me then though.

October 4, 2:30 a.m. brought 9 lb., 4 .5 ounce Riley Parker Griffith into the world. I remember feeling exhausted and clueless and just a baby myself at a mere 21 years old. I brought this bundle home and spent every waking (and sleeping!) moment with him. We ate together, we slept together, we watched Barney together, we swung on the porch swing together, we went to the park together, we shopped at the mall together, we read and sang together. I loved being a Mom.

In 1999, we bought a house. It was a modest three bedroom house in a neighborhood in Bluefield that I loved. Kevin had landed a job in a coal prep plant that put us in a pretty good financial situation, so life was really great.

In July of 2001, I found out I was pregnant. I was completely overjoyed. I scheduled my doctor’s appointment and they did the early ultrasound, but couldn’t see the heartbeat, but I was still quite early, so I came back in a week. Still no heartbeat. So I came back in another week. Still no heartbeat and the measurements didn’t seem to look right either. I remember laying on that table and feeling so disappointed and heartbroken. When that scene occurred in the movie, I thought I had put all of that behind me…you reason that things happen in God’s timetable and you move on as best as you can. I think the truth is that you never completely heal from things like that. You just tuck them away and as time and life happens, they get better. I remember coming home and standing in the hallway and hugging Kevin and just crying…and crying and crying. So the scene when Jen hugs Marley and cries on the couch really triggered that moment back for me. I felt like I was transplanted back 8 years ago.

I was mad at the world, I was mad at God, and I was DEFINITELY not going to have anymore children because I could not risk that again. That was July 31, 2001.

Thanksgiving of that year, we would announce to our parents that we were having another baby.

July 25, 2002, Natalie Gray Griffith enters the world and our hearts.

January 2003, we would learn we were leaving Bluefield and moving to Covington.

March 25, 2003, Kevin started at the mill.

August 2003, we bought our house in Covington.

August 2004, Riley starts Kindergarten.

November 2004, I’m pregnant again. Just like in the movie, it was a shocker. The greatest surprise I’ve ever received though.

August 2007, Natalie starts Kindergarten--and I start classes at Dabney in pursuit of my Bachelor’s.

October 2008, I take the job as our church secretary.

August 2009, 3 kids in soccer, 2 in school and one in preschool…I decide to take a semester off from school to attempt to keep up with life.

October 2009...Life is a whirlwind. I am exhausted.

How many times have I had those mini-breakdowns on my bed just like in the movie where she is sooo tired that she can’t function? How many times have I cried in my pillow because somewhere in this life I feel like Amanda is lost somewhere under a pile of school permission forms, overdue bills, dirty laundry and forgotten dental appointments?

At some point though, I have to step back and forget plans, and regrets, and make sure I’m not missing out on the life that is happening right before my eyes. It won’t be there forever.

I have wondered if I would’ve been a better working mom than a stay-at-home mom. I’ve even wondered in my darkest hours if I was even supposed to be a mom. Then somebody will pick me a dead dandelion or give me an oreo-faced kiss and I know that this is where I’m supposed to be. Right here.

I’m probably never going to have a dime to my name. Maybe I’ll never have one single story I write ever published. But if I can raise these three children to be loving and gracious…to love God and others…then I will have accomplished something wonderful and more important than anything else on earth.

You might be a Mom…

If you have ever lifted a child over your head only to have formula cover every inch of your scalp.

If you have received the dreaded “Your child has head lice letter” from the school nurse and then proceeded to the drugstore in a disguise to buy the treatment shampoo.

If you have ever been embarrassed in the Cracker Barrel bathroom stall when a proud 3 year old announces, “Mom, I went potty! Good job Mommy, you went potty, too! You get a sticker, too!”

If you have permanent scarring on your heel from stepping on a Lego in the floor.

If you have ever done the lick and wipe before you unload the kids from the mini van in the parking lot.

If you DRIVE a mini van.

If you have ever put 3 birthday candles on the cake when it’s actually your son’s 4th birthday.

If you have ever made a Halloween costume out of Reynold‘s Wrap and duct tape.

If you haven’t flossed in three years.

If coffee is a food group for you.

If you have considered drinking before 8:45 a.m.

If you have ever resorted to wearing black and white stripes and a whistle around your neck.

If you hold a party at your house for all the neighborhood Moms on the first day back to school.

If you have band-aids, germ-ex and teddy grahams in your purse.

If you have eaten teddy grahams out of the bottom of your purse.

If you have ever jumped out of your seat and hollered, “That’s my girl!“ when your child scored a basket.

If you have shown your coworkers more than 75 pictures of your little sleeping angel.

If you have ever used the words, “Because I said so!”

If you have made a play-doh pizza with 15 different toppings.

If you buy Ketchup directly from Heinz.

If the Walmart workers high-five you and call you by name when you come in to buy groceries.

If people run to get in front of your 2 cart-loads of groceries in the Walmart checkout.

If you can recite every Sponge Bob episode ever made.

If Kid’s Bop is in your CD player in the car.

If your family thinks the dinner bell is the squawking of the smoke detector.

If you never know who will be in bed with you when you wake up!

If you have gotten in your car and realized you still have on your slippers.

If your favorite vacation spot is a Friday night on the couch in the middle of your kids.

If you have laid in the middle of the yard and discovered mythical creatures in the clouds.

If you can make one heck of a mud pie.

If you have ever written a note and secretly placed in a lunchbox.

If you have a close working relationship with the Tickle Monster.

If you have ever left a note to the Tooth Fairy explaining that it was all your fault that the tooth ended up in the trash and please do not penalize the child.

If your refrigerator is unrecognizable because of all the artwork adorning it.

If you have run the school bus down to get a backpack to your child.

If your child’s pediatrician is on your Christmas Card List.

If a bedtime prayer brings tears to your eyes.

If you refer to facebook as “My lifeline to the adult world.”

If every night of your life ends with the words “Love you more.” ~arg

Take a lil' walk through the country with me

So a week or so ago I decided I wanted to move out in the country. Like WAAAY out in the country. I started scouring through realtor.com for houses and property in Sweet Springs, Union, Gap Mills...all of those places where you can only get to deliberately--you never just stumble upon them by chance.

I think it was that first tinge of Fall in the air that had me feeling nostalgic, for lack of a better word. I love fall. I think it's because the fall reminds me of newness. Yeah, newness. Don't we all love newness? A new house. A new car. A new love. A new baby. A new pair of shoes. A new puppy. Don't we all love the feelings associated with newness? There is something scary and yet so exciting about stepping into the unknown.

I was married on August 23, 1997 and it was a cool August 23. I think it barely hit 70 degrees that day and then the following day we left for the mountains of Gatlinburg and of course it was cool down there, also. The following year, Riley was born in October. I associate a lot of my newness with Fall. When Riley was born, we were renting a single-wide trailer on about an acre of land. There were big Pine trees in our front yard and our yard was separated from the adjacent cattle pasture by just a barbed wire fence.

All I wanted to do while we were at that trailer was find a house of our own and move. We finally did 2 years later. Who would’ve ever thought that that short time in the trailer in the country would be one of the fondest memories I would ever have?

Kevin was working 10-hour shifts back then and driving almost 2 hours each way to work. That left me at home with a baby for 14 hours a day by myself. The strange part is that I don’t remember being tired or frustrated or anything remotely similar to the exhaustion that I feel these days. I remember swinging on the porch swing that was a hand-me-down from my grandparents. I would take Riley out there when he was a baby and swing him until he fell asleep and then go softly place him in his bed. That spring we hung a red baby swing from the old clothesline pole and Riley loved swinging for as long as I could push him back and forth. From my backyard I could hear the cows mooing and see rolling hills for as far as the eye could see. We had a sweet older couple that lived behind us. God has blessed us with the best of neighbors every single place we have ever lived. These people were good as gold. They would’ve done anything for us and as a young couple starting out with a new baby, their kind hearts were a welcomed blessing!

Kevin borrowed his dad’s riding mower when we moved out there. He tried to teach me to mow and occasionally I would hop on, but I preferred to watch him mow with Riley on his lap. I have pictures from that time at the trailer and it’s so funny to look back at them. We were so young! I mean we looked like babies ourselves--and I guess we were, essentially. I was just a mere 21 years old and Kevin was 26. Life was so simple back then. Simple and new. I videoed hours worth of Riley just sitting in his bouncy chair or laying in his crib. I had his pictures made every 3 months. And I enjoyed all of that and I had time for all of that.

We found a house and moved into a nice little neighborhood in Bluefield, VA less that 2 years after we moved into the trailer in the country. I was so excited to have our own house and I loved that little house. I loved our neighbors and there was a park in our neighborhood and I would take Riley in the stroller a couple times a week. Two years later we had Natalie and then I pushed a double stroller to the park. Kevin and I rode bikes and had a pull-behind cart for the kids. Life was great.

Less than 3 years after we bought our house in Bluefield, Kevin received one of his many lay-off slips. He worked in the coal industry, so that is the nature of the beast. When the coal is running, it’s running full-force. When it’s not, it’s not. With two kids, it was getting difficult to plan for the future while constantly dodging a lay-off slip. When the opportunity arose to leave the coal industry for the paper mill, we decided to go for what we thought would be more job security over pay and benefits. I still don’t think Kevin has made it up to what he was making at the coal tipple, and the benefits will never be as good, but he hasn’t collected unemployment in 6 years and for that we are grateful.

Moving to Covington brought with it a rental search once again. This time we had two children and a family dog. We needed a decent place to rent. That is a tall order in Covington! We ended up renting a house out in Moss Run and I loved it out there, too. Yep, the country once again. We tried to buy that house, but they wouldn’t sell it. It was time for us to move on after we sold our house in Bluefield and after just 5 short months in Moss Run, we moved into our current house.

This house has seen the birth of our third child, the start of preschool for 3 children and school for 2. It has seen 6 years of soccer, 3 years of splashing in the pool, two children learning to ride their bicycles without training wheels, 2 kids potty-trained, the exit of a cocker spaniel and the entrance of two black labs. It has housed Halloween parties, Christmas parties, summer barbeques and many sleepovers. We have shared a lot in the short six years that we have lived here and I love this little house and we have the greatest neighbors once again.

Life is still awesome, but kind of like the eye of a hurricane kind of awesome. It’s fast and furious and intense and you never know if it’s going to calm down and go on out to sea or if it’s going to hit shore and completely destroy everything in its path.

So all of that to say this…I think my infatuation with the country life is an intense yearning for life to be as it was when things were new and slow-paced and we were a few years younger and a lot more energetic and way more optimistic about things in general.

The truth of the matter is that things will never be that way again. It doesn’t matter if I move out to the country and try to slow it all down. It’s not going to work. Life will just leave me standing in that dusty old dirt road if I do. I will never be what I was yesterday or the day before or the year before or 10 years ago. It’s just not the way life works.

So I will stay here in my humble abode which is spitting distance from the city limits sign. I will be happy that it only takes me 5 minutes to cart the kids to scouts and soccer practice and grateful that they have a nice safe street to ride their bikes down. And I will keep my eyes open for a little piece of heaven and simplicity out in the country, but more importantly, I will keep my eyes open for those tiny moments of this hurricane of a life that leave me completely breathless.~ArG

I Didn't Mean to do it...

I didn't mean to do it Mommy
Said the child so small
Will I remember the broken glass
Or the tears that would then fall?

Will I look back and remember
Dirty fingerprints on the door
Back when my big boy
Was just a tiny four?

Will I remember making mudpies
In the sandbox right out back
Or will this be a memory
That I will find I lack?

Will I remember the tiny hands
That tried to pour the tea?
Or will my memories be obscured
By the mess it left for me?

Will I remember the curious questions
Of my little child?
Or will I be to distracted
With the dishes that were piled?

Will I remember the spring blossoms
That were picked by the child of six?
Or will I remember scolding them
For the garden I now must fix?

Will I remember the tiny hands
That the fingerpaint clung to?
Or will I remember the work involved
In removing the stained hue?

Will I remember dunking cookies
In a glass of milk so cold?
Or will my memories be only
of the couch stain so bold?

Will I remember the fun we had
Draping blankets over chairs?
Or will I just remember
mending my best quilt's tears?

Will I remember painting fingernails
And her face that held the smile?
Or just the spilled polish
On the table in a pile?

Will I remember the sound of bouncing balls
Down the hallway floor?
Or just remember cleaning
Muddy ballprints off the door?

Will I remember their creativity
And their strong will to be heard?
Or will I remember marker mess
And the struggles that occurred?

Am I savoring every moment
For they are passing quick...
Or overlooking these small moments
As the hands of time go tick?

I Have A Dream!

Amanda’s famous “I have a dream speech”…in regards to the “attic situation”

I have a dream….
That one day the contents of my attic will be purged and neatly organized into clear plastic storage containers.

That the age appropriate clothing will be clearly marked so I will no longer have to fumble through unmarked trash bags full of 10 years worth of children’s clothing with every season change.

I have a dream…
That the Christmas ornaments will be neatly organized into those cool divided ornament storage containers so I do not have to buy new bulbs every year.

That the tangled Christmas lights will be rolled up neatly and the blown bulbs replaced so I will not have to test the same strings of lights every Thanksgiving night.

I have a dream…
That all the pairs of curtains, quilts, blankets and extra comforters will be safely stowed away in space bags for easy retrieval.

That the seasonal holiday decorations will be grouped by season and labeled and placed where I can find them before the holiday is over.

I have a dream…
That the collectible Barbies and Nascar collectibles will not be left open by my children who think they should “play” with these treasures and ruined by the heat of the attic.

That the box of two decades of photographs I have stored up there will not sustain heat or sun damage.

This is my hope and this is my dream.

If anyone is willing to help me realize this dream, please feel free to stop by with your work clothes on.

Hidden Potential

I love houses. I have no discrimination when it comes to real estate. This drives my Dad and my husband absolutely crazy and has caused us to find ourselves in a couple of pickles in the beginning of married life.



After renting for a short time, we started house hunting and I fell in love with every single house I ever stepped into. One house had asbestos siding and I assured Kevin that we could have it safely removed and we wouldn't die of cancer. It was in one of Bluefield's oldest neighborhoods, afterall. Then there was the house that we put an offer on because I loved it and then my Dad came and looked at it and couldn't believe we had made an offer on "that thing." Luckily it didn't pass FHA inspection, so we were able to get our deposit back on that house. Then there was another house that we made an offer on that had a lovely finished basement--and the other side of the basement was soaking wet dirt floor and probably molds and mildews of every race, color and creed. We lost $5oo on that one when we backed out at the last minute after my Dad's pleading that we NOT buy that house.



When we moved to Covington, we looked at several houses and I saw potential in each one we looked at, despite their flaws and challenges. We bought the house that we live in currently because of the finished basement and the awesome yard for the kids. Since we have lived here, I still ocassionally get on the house hunting wagon and I will find a house and call up the realtor and have her show it to me and of course I fall in love with whatever we look at. I looked at a Tudor up in Fairlawn a few years back that I absolutely fell in love with. It was no bigger than the house we live in now--actually probably smaller when you take into account the unusable wet basement that it possessed and the yard that was all uphill. All I could see was the original wood floors and mouldings and the incredible curb appeal it possessed. I could imagine myself having parties in the enormous dining room and I could picture my Christmas tree in front of the big bay window in the living room. I didn't see all the leaky pipes and the outdated electrical, and the bad insulation resulting in $500/month utility bills.



I saw the potential in those houses to be something wonderful. With a little sanding, a little elbow grease, and a lot of tender loving care, those overlooked gems could shine once again.



People are kind of like those old houses. Sometimes we don't get to know people who are a little rough around the edges or too high maintainence. We tend to naviagate towards those people who are an "easy sell" never bothering to get to know the one's who "could use some TLC."



The truth of the matter is that a lot of people just need some encouragement and somebody to take a chance on them--just like those old houses. We always run the risk of opening ourselves up and having the basement flood or having the pipes leak. Sometimes, we will lose our butts and the whole thing will tank, but other times it's through the leaks and the drafty doors and windows that we learn patience, tolerance and warmth. I see the potential when I look at houses, and I try to do the same when I look at people. Some people need to be told they matter. Some people need to be shook a time or two. Some people just need you to sit quietly and listen.

I'm 32 years old and I still love making new friends. I still get giddy when I find a new friend that I really "click" with. I like to make people laugh, but I also can cry with the best of them. Don't let life's chaos keep you from continuing to make friends or from seeing others' hidden potential. What seems like a headache and lots of work on the outside could turn out to be a gem with a little polishing.

National Lampoon's King's Dominion Vacation

August 10, 2009

Memoirs from fun-filled King’s Dominion trip…

We departed Potts Creek Road for King’s Dominion at 7:45, only 45 minutes behind schedule, which is a good morning at the Griffith House. We had our kids in the mini-van and Kevin’s folks had their other two grandsons (our nephews) in their truck and we were off! I remember stopping in Cliftondale Park for gas and most everything after that is a blur to me. This, my friends, is because I always sleep in the car. I believe I have some sort of motor vehicle narcolepsy. This is not at all a joke. I will fall asleep by Iron Gate on the way to Roanoke. There is something about that gentle lulling of the vehicle, the warm sun beating through the windshield, and the random screams of children fighting in the backseat that send me right into a deep sleep. Sometimes I take a book or magazine to just mix things up. I usually make it about 2 pages before I am doing the Jello neck bob trick, while my wide fly-catching open mouth gives entertainment for all passersby.

We made it to King’s Dominion a little before 11 o’clock which had my Rainman-like son, Riley, all out of sorts due to the fact that we were already an hour behind our perfectly mapped out riding schedule. That’s right folks, we mapped out a riding schedule. I am not a planner by nature, but for those important things in life…such as roller coaster riding…I need a plan of action. On our last visit to King’s Dominion, we were pure novices. We had no idea how to navigate ourselves in order to accommodate the thrill needs of the five people in our family. Two more years of thought and several inches of growth allowed my oldest child to be able to ride almost anything he dared at the park, and allowed my other children to have a lot more flexibility also. We got to the gate with our tickets and after my husband and father-in-law nearly stripped down, we finally were able to pass through the metal detectors and start our trek through this wonderland.

First ride was The Shenandoah Lumber Company…aka The Log Flume. All five kids plus Kevin and I enjoyed this fun ride! This would be the first and last ride that my husband would take in. He had a bad experience on the Scrambler at the Tazewell County Fair a few years back and he has whimped out on me a little. Let me come to his defense, however. Somebody had really messed with that Scrambler and I actually remember praying to God that if he got me off that thing that I would surely never be so stupid as to ever step foot on another ride and I would start giving double to charity. Well, he held up his end of the bargain, anyway.

The four older kids and I took in The Grizzly, The Hurler, Ricochet, and El Dorado while Kevin decided to take Wyatt over to the water park, as it was…THE HOTTEST DAY OF THE YEAR! Yeah, apparently that is God’s punishment for me for breaking my deal I made with him over the Scrambler. For the last two years we have visited King’s Dominion, it has been over 100 degrees.

Kevin, his dad and Wyatt left after 2 o’clock to check into our five-star hotel (Days Inn--Carmel Church) and rested in the A/C while Wyatt took a nap. While they were gone, Kevin’s mom and I took the other four kids over to the wave pool to get a reprieve from the miserable heat. Kevin texted me and told me it was 104 when they got into the van in the parking lot. Lovely. So we arrived at Tidal Wave Bay and nobody was in the pool. THEY WERE HAVING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES!! You must be kidding me was my lone thought. Thank goodness, within 10 minutes, the problems were resolved and the kids and I were able to cool off for a little while and Kevin’s mom was able to score a chair and rest for a little while, although she nearly had to fight a middle-aged man for rights to it. After about 30 minutes of splashing in the pool, all the kids were ready to get back to riding, and so began the grueling task of sending everyone in to change back from their wet suits. Fifteen minutes later, we are ready to roll. Straight to the Rebel Yell we headed. This has always been a favorite of mine, and Natalie and Riley, along with my nephew Alex, all rode it with me! We wanted to do it backwards, but it was only running forward on Sunday. BOO! We rode it two or three times and it was great as usual. Glad we weren’t on the blue side because those poor folks got stuck on the way up and there they sat as we passed by them and there they still were as we finished the ride. I would not have done well in that situation, I’m guessing.

We were standing in line trying to get everybody situated to ride, but we had five people--odd number for coaster riding. Riley was going to have to ride after us and a guy who appeared to be alone came and stood in line behind him. Riley asked this guy if he could ride with him and he said Yes. Well, lo and behold if the two people in the front of the line were not together as we had previously thought. I told Riley to ask the guy in the front if he could ride with him and he said Yes. Riley turns back to the guy behind him that he had first asked and said, “I’m riding with him now. Sorry dude, maybe next time.” That’s our Riley. Such a card. I asked Riley later about the guy he rode with and he said, “His name was Tom Murphy.” I laughed and said, “You asked him his name?” He said, “Yeah, and I told him my name was Riley Griffith.” Lord help that friendly child and keep him safe because he would tell anybody anything.

It wasn’t too much longer and the guys arrived back with Wyatt and we went over and let the smaller kids ride rides in Kidsville. Wyatt loved the Scooby Doo Ghoster Coaster and he and I rode in the front car together. I am digging that all of my kids love coasters and are not scared. I started out my life scared, but by 6th grade, loved them.

Our perfectly mapped out riding schedule got all out of whack, due to the miserable heat of the day, and we missed all of the great coasters in Conga altogether. I was less than thrilled about missing out on some of those great coasters over there that I have never been on.

The highlight of the day was taking Riley and my nephew Alex over to ride The Dominator. We walked all the way around there and then walked under it and watched it pass through and the three of us were terrified. Riley was so scared, he was nearly in tears. As we walked the maze to get to the coaster, you could almost hear our hearts beating out of our chests! We were terrified! We picked a line to get in, and we stood there for about 20 seconds until someone in the front of the line asked us if we wanted to get in front of them, as they were trying to ensure riding with their friends. We said yes, and then quickly wondered what the heck we had just agreed to! So there we were. Me…the old one and the 12 and 10 year old. We had still not completely decided if we were going to ride this monster or not. Ready or not, the gates opened and it was do or die. We sat down and buckled in and I made sure to say a little prayer that I would not be caught upside down swinging on this thing like those poor people stuck in their cars on the Rebel Yell, just hours before. Off we went and it was AWESOME! I mean awesome! It was an incredible ride, but the incredible part was sharing this “big ride” with my son and my nephew. You always remember your first time…your first big roller coaster time, that is. I remember mine…I was with Robin Biggs at Busch Gardens and it was the Loch Ness Monster. It gave me my love for coasters and brought me out of my scaredy-cat shell.

Before leaving Kidzville, the kids decided that $90 on the pizza lunch and the other $60 on drinks was not quite enough to donate to King’s Dominion, so they wanted to play a game or two before departure. They all played that one where you squirt the water guns--I don’t do the game thing, so I have no idea what it is called, but Riley won a big ole Scooby Doo on the thing. Alex won two basketballs in the shooting game. Wyatt wanted to throw the baseballs, but the park was about to close and nobody was manning the baseball throwing station. Wyatt discovered the basket of baseballs was sitting right there, however, so he grabbed three balls and had at it. Two of the balls didn’t even register a speed and the middle ball registered 17 mph. All of our family, along with three or four young guys started cheering for Wyatt and Kevin hollers, “We have a winner!” And then Wyatt walks right in there and picks himself out a bear and off we went. I laughed so hard, I nearly peed my pants.

We left the park and went home and rested our heads on those perfectly hard as brick pillows at Days Inn and knew we had made some great memories with our kids and our family.

Outpatient Surgery Revelations about Love

August 11, 2009

Today Natalie had her tonsils and adenoids removed. She had really huge tonsils, and the orthodontist recommended having them removed to prevent any speech problems and help alleviate strep throat and help her to stop snoring. Everything went great and I look for her to make a speedy recovery and be able to return to school next Wednesday. She has to take off an extra week before she can start soccer and basketball, but she should be just fine. Natalie has been drugged up on Lortab today and has been so cute and affectionate. She has wanted me to hold her and snuggle with her and it has been so nice. She has told us all how much she loves us and I have been relishing the moments because I know once the meds wear off that she will be back to telling us where to stick it.

Kevin and I were sitting in the room waiting on Natalie to return and I told him that he really should go to school to be a nurse--of course then I couldn’t resist making a Gaylord Focker joke, just for the simple reason that I love the Fockers so very much, but in all seriousness, my husband would make a wonderful nurse. He is very nurturing and fun-loving and a great care-giver and has a technical side that I do not possess. He told me that there is no way we could make it if he went back to school though. I felt a little rotten that I hadn’t finished my degree 10 years ago when I should’ve, so we could have a little more flexibility for the pursuit of the careers that would make us happy instead of the jobs that would feed the family. I asked him if he was happy. He said, “With my job?” I said, “No, I mean with us.” He simply shook his head yes and replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” So at that very moment I felt tears trickling down my cheeks and suddenly appreciated my husband more than I had in a really long time.

A lot of times I get wrapped up in my own wants and the world around me and I forget about the tremendous amount of love my husband has for me and our children. He’s not a romantic guy, despite my begging and pleading for romance. It’s not really the storybook romance that makes life wonderful though, I have finally realized. In two weeks, we will be married 12 years. As I think back over those quick 12 years, I ask myself what stands out to me? Is it a vacation? Is it something spectacular we did? Is it something that cost a ton of money? The answer is a unanimous no.

What would I miss if I didn’t have my husband here with me? I would miss his annoying whistling that my daughter has now also picked up. I would miss the way he says, “Huh?” when he clearly hears the question but doesn’t want to be forthcoming with the answer. I would miss his texts that say u2 when I text him a 3 page text telling him how much I love him. I would miss the way he fixes all the broke stuff for me. I would miss how he lets me run with my crazy ideas. I would miss the way that he goes to Walmart to pick up beer and brings home a Decorating magazine for me. I would miss the way he lets me lay on his pillow and pretends he doesn’t notice. I would miss the way he hides away chocolate bars for me and pulls them out when he sees me searching the house frantically for “something sweet.” I would miss the way he orders what I like at a restaurant in case I don’t like mine and I might want to trade. I would miss those big blue eyes that can see right through all the surface stuff and straight into my soul.
Sure, music and flowers and chocolates are lovely….but I'd take Walmart surprises, back porch sitting, and marshmallow roasting any ole day.

A Day in the Life of Me

May 6, 2009

A day in the life of me...

I normally get up at 5:22...that's when the alarm goes off. I'm not sure why I don't set it for 5:20 or 5:25...that's just too conventional I suppose. Anyway, I get up with Kevin and stumble into the kitchen and if I'm lucky, I have remembered to load the coffee maker the night before, and perhaps I even had the sense to program it because then I can have a cup as soon as I walk in the kitchen. Unfortunately, 9 times out of 10, that isn't the case. Most of the time it still has yesterday's coffee in it, so I have to dump that nasty filter in the trash which is probably setting in the middle of the floor because it's always overflowing and that is my sign for Kevin to take it out...just setting it in the middle of the floor. Then I have to dump the remainder of the coffee in the sink...but sometimes that is quite a feat because chances are, that last night's dinner dishes are still in the sink...overflowing. Once I get the coffee brewed, however, my day starts to improve. I slam together some sort of sandwich for Kevin to take to lunch...turkey usually. He has high blood pressure and he doesn't like to eat ham, even though I got out the ham and turkey one day and showed him that the turkey had just as much sodium in it as the ham...you can't tell him anything though. Once I get that done, I plop down on the couch and watch the news for a little while and drink my coffee. Kevin asks why I don't read my literature during this time, but what he doesn't understand is that my brain cannot function properly until a minimum of 3 cups of coffee have entered my bloodstream. Duh. Anyway, so I just veg out for a little while and enjoy the peace and quiet.

Around 6:30, my first-born Riley usually starts stirring. Let me introduce you to Riley. He was born October 4, 1998. He is a Libra. He didn't speak until he was 3 years old. We thought maybe he was autistic. After 19 months of speech therapy, we found that to be untrue. He is not autistic, he is rather a genius! HaHa. Well, we think he is anyway. He is very Rainman-ish if you will. He can read something and regurgitate it. It's quite amazing. He helped me through American History and I'm not even kidding. Riley is very Libra-ish. I believe with my entire being that he will be President of the United States one of these days. He is extremely methodical and a creature of habit. He has very little creative juices like the females in our home. At 2 years old, he could not speak, but he could point out every letter of the alphabet when asked. I had to go to a meeting when he was in Kindergarten because his fine motor skills were behind. The child used his scissors backwards! With the blades pointing towards him! I'm happy to report he can now cut though. Still working on tying shoes (sorry Riley, but I'm just explaining the workings of your mind.) My dad says Riley is "the chosen one." He thinks Riley is my favorite. This is not true of course. I love all three equally. Riley is the child that is the most unlike me, but he is also the one who is most like me. His heart is huge. He has an old soul. He bears the worries of the world. He understands things beyond his years. I love the way he wants to hear my Papaw tell of WWII and Momaw tell of The Great Depression. I love that he cares about people and humanity and the things that mean something. I'm not trying to write his destiny, but I have my doubts that he will be the quarterback of the football team, but he is going to be something great. He is going to make a difference. Well, if he makes it out alive without me or Kevin laying him out over his smart-ass mouth anyway.

Ok, so Riley gets up and I get his clothes out every morning. I will probably still be doing this when he is 16 years old. That's just Riley. He gets dressed and goes and sits in the living room and watches the Today Show. So, minute-by-minute, I get updates about the Swine Flu, the Craig’s List killer, the chance of rain in China...you name it.

In the meantime, I have to go wake up Natalie, my middle child. My husband is also a middle child, so I have tried to keep her from developing middle-child syndrome. I think it's just a given though. There's no way around it. She will always be too little to do something Riley is doing and too big to do something Wyatt is doing. It's a tough place to be. Knowing what I know now, I would've just had another baby and made it an even four. She would've loved having a sister. That would mean I would still be changing diapers and dealing with all that baby stuff that I am SOOO over now. I’ll just pay for her therapy. Anyway, Natalie does not like to get out of bed. She also does not sleep under the flat sheet…only the coverlet. I don’t even begin to understand why, but I just go with the flow. After numerous attempts of nicely trying to awaken my beautiful princess, I just say, whatever…you can go in your pajamas for all I care and then she usually gets up. My beautiful Natalie is built like her father which is quite unfortunate for her. I wish I could’ve given her the gift of long legs--she has short legs and a long torso though. This year, she has been having too many Little Debbies and has gotten in touch with here bootylicious honky-tonk badonkadonk. That’s what I decided to give her--again Natalie…I’ll pay for the therapy. So, with that said, the last few months have been difficult to get the jeans to go over the bootay, so that usually erupts into some sort of argument where I am blamed, and it couldn’t possibly be the Fudge Rounds. Go figure.

Let me introduce you to Natalie while I’m talking about her…Natalie was my dream come true! I wanted a baby girl so bad and when I found out she was going to be a girl, I was happy beyond measure! I had always had this picture in my head of sitting on the beach…maybe this came from the movie “Beaches”…with my daughter and we would both have on big wide-brimmed hats and sunglasses and pink toenail polish. (I’m smiling now) Natalie was born July 23, 2002. She is a Leo, and once again, possesses many Leo traits. She is a free-spirit like her mommy and she is extremely creative and artistic. She went in her room the other day with some popsicle sticks, glitter and a glue stick and came out with beautiful picture frames for us! Natalie is the kid that everybody likes--all of the older girls take her under their wing and love her. She also possesses some of the not-so great Leo qualities…she can be bossy and she is quite an instigator. She is very strong-willed, so I hope that will come out in positive ways as she matures. She loves to travel…she would never spend any time at home if she didn’t have to--she’d much rather go to Papaw and Nana’s or a friends house than to stay here with boring old us!

Then, like clockwork, Wyatt come down the hall, poking light sabers at us and demanding pancakes, with no consideration for the fact that the other kids need to eat because the bus will be here in 5 minutes. I have discovered microwavable pancakes and my children pretty much live on them now--a long time ago, in an enchanted world, I actually cooked breakfast…I got over it though…now it’s pop-tarts, microwave pancakes or cereal. Anyway, I pop pancakes in the micro and get everybody fed and out the door the older two go…Riley has now checked his folder 15 times to makes sure everything is in there (Rainman).

Then it’s just Wyatt and I for the rest of the day. Housework or studying begins, or some days I go work at the church and he goes to Paw Phil’s for a couple of hours. Wyatt likes to stay at home. He is polar opposite of Natalie who likes to roam. That nest-like quality is true of most Cancers, which he is. Let me back up. It was November of 2004. Kevin was in Pocahontas County hunting. I had been so darn tired and just didn’t feel right. I thought I was going to bed at 7:00 p.m. every night because of the time change. I decided to pop into CVS and get a pregnancy test anyway…we were finished having kids after Natalie, mind you. Two was perfect…a boy and a girl…happy and healthy. Well, I got home and I took the test. Girls, you know how you have the test window and you have the one line that says it’s working and then the other window gives you the line? Well, I was SOOOO pregnant that the positive came before the other window showed up! OMG! I cried and I was so upset and scared and I had no husband that I could reach by phone for 2 days to share this scary information with! That was a long two days. When I finally told him, in his usual, nonchalant fashion, he reassured me that it was fine and that we’d manage somehow. When I went to the doctor, I told them how far along I thought I could be…well the doctor literally jumped back and said, “Wooah! This baby is more than 8 weeks gestation…it has arms and legs!” So we had a good chuckle about all that and 7 months later (pregnancies are much shorter when you don’t know you’re pregnant til the 2nd trimester btw ;-) Wyatt Harden Griffith entered the world on June 23, 2005. He was the easiest baby to carry and the easiest labor and delivery. He was only 7 lbs. 4 ounces, so I guess that is why--Riley was 9 lb.s 4.5 ounces and Nat was 8 lbs. 14.5 ounces. Needless to say, I had my tubes tied on June 24, 2005 :o)

Wyatt is very imaginative. I think that is another Cancer quality. Riley never possessed this quality. Wyatt will sit and play for hours and the stories he tells are hilarious! He is athletic and is left-handed. He has been known to say a cuss word here and there, and of the three children, he is the toughest and the most menacing.

Ok, well that is how we start our day. Now that I have introduced you all to my zoo, I hope to update our goings-on every day or two. Stay tuned!

White Fang

May 7, 2009

This morning while I was having my coffee I was thinking about motherhood and the trials and triumphs and I relived the last very quick 10 ½ years in my mind. What made me cringe? My biting kids. Yes, if any of you have children that bite, or have ever bitten, you will feel my pain. That is tough. I have said it over and over again, I would rather be the mom of the kid who has been bitten than the mom of the biter. So bear that in mind if you ever pick your kid up from the babysitter and your kid has bite marks. Here are some of my tales…

All three of my children have been biters. Riley used to mostly bite his Papaw because there were no other children around to bite. That was pretty easy to handle--Papaw is a big boy, he doesn’t cry to much. Ha! I even caught Riley gnawing on my van tires in the driveway one time.

Natalie was also a biter. She bit Riley for the most part. As long as you can “keep it in the family” so to speak, it’s not that mortifying. I started babysitting Erin Hancock Stone’s little boy when Natalie was 2 and she and Luke would bite each other from time to time, but because turn about is fair play, Erin and I had a mutual understanding that it was no big deal.

Then Wyatt came along. Boy oh Boy. To say he was a biter is quite the understatement. I started babysitting Tina Dressler’s kids when Wyatt was almost two years old. Her little boy, Levi was three. Wyatt bit him nearly everyday. I would punish him, but it really never did any good…I always dreaded poor Tina coming to pick up Levi, because he would more than likely have bite marks on his arm. Easter Sunday of that year, I had nursery duty at the church. Easter always welcomes the “semi-annual” church visitors (the ones who come on Christmas and Easter), so the church was full. I had a ton of kids in the nursery. We were playing and reading stories and I looked over and Wyatt was hugging this sweet little girl. It was so cute. Then he bit her. On her face. OMG! It was horrible! I was mortified! She was screaming, I wanted to kill Wyatt, and before I could get the little girl calm, I looked over and another kid was crying because he had bit him! I just broke down right there in the nursery and literally cried my eyes out. I was just at my breaking point. I was embarrassed and felt like a complete failure. We have pictures of Easter dinner at my mom’s that year--those are lovely with my swollen eyes from crying. I wrote letters of apology to the victims’ families and I literally did not go back to church for 6 months after that. I was completely shaken and mortified, despite everyone’s understanding and my dad’s insight that he is just a baby and people understand and that it’s just something babies do.

That same year, we were down at the Covington Pizza Hut for a soccer fund raiser. Wyatt was playing in the little play corner and out of nowhere a kid starts screaming…you guessed it…Wyatt had the fangs out again. He bit Monica Tilley’s little boy for taking the truck he was playing with. I apologized over and over to her and left in tears.

This June Wyatt will be four years old. He hasn’t bitten anyone in quite sometime. I no longer worry when we are in groups of children that he will bite someone. My dad was right…as he most of the time is. It was a phase and I made it through.
So young moms, if something consumes your every thought and you worry relentlessly about it and wonder if it will ever be remedied, it will. Just hang in there. You’re doing great!