Author: Big Mama

Pressing on

I can always tell when I have a lot on my mind because, well, it’s my mind and I am well aware of all that is in there and, also, all that is not in there. Plus, I start to draw a blank when I try to write a post about random things and so I end up putting up a picture of Dreyer’s ice cream.

It’s that feeling of knowing I have something to say, but not knowing how to say it or how to start. So, instead, LOOK! ICE CREAM! PEANUT BUTTER AND CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM!

Since I wrote about letting go of my fears a few weeks ago, I’ve thought more about it. To be honest, there have been many times in the last month when I’ve felt fear and worry well up in me again. And I don’t really talk about it because it’s not fun to talk about. I’d rather think about cute shoes, my hair, and that everything is 40% off at Gap right now.

The important things.

I have just felt like I need to clarify that I haven’t arrived at some incredible destination of perfect peace and tranquility. It’s a daily dependence on God. Trusting and knowing that He can meet all my needs and that He has a great plan for my life.

I know it, yet I’m quick to fall into my old patterns and forget it.

I’ve thought so much about Paul’s words in Phillipians when he says, “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me”.

I’m quick to get bogged down in the what ifs. I’m quick to worry and fret over things that are ultimately out of my control anyway. I’m quick to try to come up with my own solutions and totally discount His sovereignty in all situations.

I worry if I’ll regret not having another baby. I wonder if I should have another baby. I worry if Caroline will grow up to be happy and normal without a sibling. Who will she look at and roll her eyes with when she’s a teenager and I say embarrassing things? Which is inevitable, by the way.

I worry about our finances and if we’re going to owe money to the IRS this year. I worry that we’re not saving enough for the future. I worry that our property taxes are going to go through the roof now that our neighbors have built the Taj Mahal next door to us.

I worry about P and I flying to Florida in May and what if something happens. I worry about Caroline and if I’m raising her to the best of my ability. I have days where my patience reaches its limit and I forget that she’s just four. And then I feel guilty.

And then I worry about feeling guilty.

I worry because I’m speaking to a group of women in a few weeks and I don’t know if I’ll have anything to say beyond “Hey y’all. What’s up?” I’m speaking to another group of women in June and hope I say more than “Blogging is good”. What if I fail? What if I screw it all up? What if I’ve heard God wrong?

So, basically, there are days when I’m a big, hot mess.

That is a lot of information right there. I feel a little like that episode of “Seinfeld” where George bares his soul to Jerry and then says, “That is who I am and everything I am capable of.”

I guess my point is that I don’t have it all together and I have days that just really stink. But I try not to focus on those things because, most of the time, I try to refrain from hosting my own party full of woe and pity. And I know that in spite of all these worries I manage to manufacture, I am blessed.

A few weeks ago, I sat across the room from our former housekeeper, Cata. She is sixty-seven years old and has cleaned houses for most of her life. About a month ago, she and her husband lost their home and much of what they owned in a house fire. They have no insurance. Yet, I sat there and listened to Cata tell me in her broken English how blessed she felt and how God has been faithful to provide help throughout her entire ordeal. She looked at me with joy in her eyes and said, “Melanie, God is not old. He is still working.”

How much do I love that she said “God is not old”? It totally makes me think of when God asks Moses, “Is the Lord’s arm too short?” (Numbers 11:23)

God is not too old and His arm is not too short.

Everything you read here is a snapshot of my life. The days of monogrammed dresses and Easter baskets come once a year and make good pictures, but sometimes the reality is a lot messier.

I’ve been in a season of life where I start to feel easily overwhelmed. Doors have opened and I can see things on the horizon, but I’m not there yet and I get frustrated. And I start to doubt if any of it will ever really happen.

And then, of course, I worry about what it will mean if it does all happen. Because I am a fan of coming up with the worry material.

In fact, a few weeks ago I received an email with some really cool news and I called Gulley to tell her about it. She was so excited for me and there may have even been some jumping up and down. Meanwhile, I was all like “Well, we’ll see what happens.” She said, “What is wrong with you? Get excited, Coach Fran!”

The day before yesterday I got on my knees and prayed about all my fears, doubts, worries. Why don’t I trust God the way I should? Why do I go back to that place of relying on my own power? Why do I let the fear overtake me? When will I be the person I wish I could be?

I didn’t get an answer.

But then yesterday morning, I walked my dogs down to an empty field by our house to let them run. I stood there watching them and noticed one lone bluebonnet sprouting up in the middle of the field. I know from past years that in another week, the entire field will be covered in bluebonnets. But, for now, there is just that one.

And I felt God say to me in the still, small place in my heart, “My girl, that’s how it is sometimes. After a long winter, spring doesn’t always happen all at once. It happens one flower at a time. I make all things beautiful, one flower at a time.”

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11
Reunited and it feels so good

Who needs snack cakes of any sort when there is this kind of goodness in the world?

I ate this constantly while I was pregnant with Caroline and then, suddenly, they quit making it.

There was much wailing, gnashing of teeth, and rending of garments.

But, lo, it is back on my grocer’s frozen goods shelf.

Just in time for bathing suit season.

Perfect.
The littlest consumer

Our weekend was full of nonstop activity and, as a result, Caroline didn’t get anywhere near the amount of sleep she requires to maintain her sunny disposition. But, because she has the energy level of a hamster on steroids fueled by a pure diet of sugar, she didn’t really crash until yesterday.

She woke up around 8:00 a.m. yesterday morning and then was content to just snuggle up in my bed and watch T.V. for the next hour and a half. I kept checking her forehead for fever because, while I have heard of children who are content to just rest and relax, I have rarely experienced it firsthand without some type of virus being involved. I just knew she was about to throw up in my bed, because I always look for the bright side of any situation.

But it never happened. No fever, no throw up, no phantom virus. Just rest and relaxation.

I did not see that coming.

So we stayed in our pajamas until 2:00 p.m. I kid you not. It was fabulous. And we watched “101 Dalmations”, “Monsters Inc.”, a few “Charlie and Lolas”, and “Tom and Jerry”.

Here’s the downside to a day full of watching television with a four-year-old. She is a sucker for the commercials. It started off with asking if she could have the My Little Pony Teapot Palace (which she already owns by the way) because “LOOK AT IT MAMA! IT’S BEAUTIFUL!”. Then as the day progressed she asked for Lelli Kelly tennis shoes with “ALL THE SPARKLIES!” and Furberry Friends because “THEY’RE SO CUTE!”.

We had to have a discussion about why she will never own any Bratz Dolls and what the word “trashy” means. She informed me that they were not trashy, but were “FASHION!”.

Heaven help me.

Now I’m going to have to take her shopping at Lilly Pulitzer just to infuse some All-American fashion goodness and modesty into her brain.

So, it was inevitable that by noon she was begging for those vacuum-sealed storage bags. You know what I’m talking about? The ones where you can put an entire bedspread, three king-size pillows and a set of pots and pans in a bag, suck out the excess air with a vacuum, and shrink it down to the size of a pea. What child wouldn’t want one of those? How on earth will her childhood be complete without the ability to store things in such an efficient manner?

Between the storage bags and the Bratz dolls, I’m afraid I’m raising a child who may aspire to be a tawdry Martha Stewart.

I told her we didn’t need them and she looked right at me and said, “But Mama! You can buy them on T.V. for only $19.95!”

Awww, my little baby is learning about capitalism. They grow up so fast.

Last night, right before I put her to bed, she put her little hand on my face and looked at me for a long time. Finally she said, “Mama, you can get some lotion for your face that will help it not be all spotty like it is now. It’s only $29.95.”

The T.V. will remain off all day tomorrow.
Episode eleven: The Big Boo Cast

I know, I know. You’re thinking we just did a podcast but, no, that was about eight weeks ago. It just seems like yesterday.

Anyway, we’ve actually recorded a few other podcasts, but they were either extremely boring or had sound issues or both. My personal favorite of the podcasts that will never see the light of day is the one where Boomama and I actually answered questions for Travis the way we thought he would answer them.

I bet he would have loved that one, too.

We feel fortunate to have Frydaddy joining us again. We weren’t sure his busy schedule would allow him to be back, not to mention an unfortunate trip to Puerto Rico where he almost met his untimely demise in the form of severe stomach flu.

But, here we are, back again. As usual we cover topics ranging from musical influences to shoes to March Madness. I’m sure you’ll be enthralled.

Click here to listen on the web. Or, you can go here and then click on the speaker next to Episode 11.
Subscribe via iTunes here.
Subscribe via RSS feed here.
He is risen, but I am questionable

So, now that I’ve got y’all over here, I guess I need to say something interesting. Of course, why deviate from the norm just because I’m in a new location?

I’m all about living up to your expectations of random content.

P and Caroline celebrated Good Friday by heading to the ranch to do some fishing. With this move, he singlehandedly trumped all my big Spring Break activities, including the trip to Target and the $1.00 popcorn.

He even bought minnows to use as bait. Seriously, I can’t compete with the minnows.

And I certainly can’t compete with this.

Those huge catfish? Caroline caught those.

Not only did she catch them, but she also touched them. With her hands. With her little baby hands that used to smell like a combination of lavender and Cheerios all the time.

Friday night she went to spend the night with Mimi and Bops and they brought her home Saturday morning after a stop at Shipley’s Donuts.

She brought me one. Slightly used.

Tasty.

She’d been home exactly five seconds before she begged to start dyeing Easter eggs. Did I spell dyeing right? It doesn’t look right but, frankly, I’m just barely coming out of my baked french toast hangover and haven’t the strength to look it up in a dictionary.

So, I boiled us some eggs and took the whole dyeing operation outside because I know the limits of my sanity and Easter egg dye in my house clearly exceeds those limits. Especially when the chief egg dyer uses a technique called PLOPPING THE EGGS right into a full cup of vinegar, dye and water.

And look what kind of egg dye we bought.

Disney. Those folks have got themselves quite the marketing department.

Don’t think they wouldn’t emblazon DISNEY PRINCESSES right across the Easter Bunny’s rear end if given half a chance. Or try to incorporate Snow White and Sleeping Beauty into the Resurrection Story if they weren’t afraid of going to hell.

On Saturday night, P fried Caroline’s catfish for dinner and she was so proud. Then it was time for bed and we put out carrots for the Easter Bunny. She asked me if the Easter Bunny came down the chimney and I just mumbled something under my breath.

I realize that Santa is also make believe, but the Easter Bunny just seems like a ridiculous concept. I mean, really? A huge bunny that carries around eggs for kids? That doesn’t even make good sense.

Clearly, an elderly gentleman who lives with elves and travels with reindeer is much more realistic.

Then I had to watch the Aggies lose a heartbreaker to UCLA. It was so close. I could see us in the Final Four. With Duke out of the tournament, we’d have such a great shot. But, alas, ten minutes of no offensive production doesn’t really win games and bad calls by refs don’t help either. Boomama instant messaged me (is that how you say it? IM’d me? Ichatted me?) when there were about five minutes left in the game and offered to start vacuuming because that strategy has helped Mississippi State win some games.

A friend who offers to vacuum in your NCAA tournament time of need is a friend indeed.

You can embroider that on a pillow if you’d like.

Caroline woke up bright and early on Sunday morning to see if the Easter Bunny had made it to our house. Sure enough, there were eggs to hunt and candy to eat.

We got dressed for church and even made it on time which, in and of itself, was some sort of Easter miracle.

Mimi, Bops, my sister and her family all came over for Easter brunch. We put a serious dent in the baked french toast and the sausage and egg breakfast casserole and then watched Caroline and Sarah hunt for Easter eggs.

And this is where I would love to wrap this up all neatly with a big Easter bow but, like I said, the baked french toast combined with the Cadbury Egg chaser isn’t for amateurs. I’m going to need to really sleep this off before I’m able to function at full capacity again.

So, I’ll just end with this.

Easter. It was good.
Precious Easter memories

Caroline and I were lying in my bed, watching 101 Dalmations and just resting after a busy morning full of church, Easter egg hunts and too many chocolate eggs.

“Mama, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere.”

“Baby, everything’s closed today.”

“But I want to do something fun. Can we go bowling?”

“No, the bowling alleys are closed.”

“Can I go to the park?”

“No, it’s Easter. We’ve had a busy morning and now it’s just time to relax. That’s what you do on Easter.”

“Can we go to another town where they don’t celebrate Easter?”