Small Halloween Confession

Just how bad a mother does it make me
that I tried to bribe my yahoos
with a bucket full of candy?

Last night was the the Trunk R' Treat at church.
I had worked all day
and it was BRRRR-freakin' cold outside--
like 28o-freakin' cold--
so when I came home
alls I really wanted to do
was eat dinner (it was a delicious chicken cordon bleu by Jen)
crawl out of my work clothes
and into my fleecy pj's,
grab the remote and a cup of hot cocoa
and
zone.out.

But I knew it would take some creativity  a full-on bribe,
to get the yahoos on board with my warm n' lazy idea:
SO
I offered up the whole huge bucket (it's actually a black plastic witches' cauldron)
that we'd filled with halloween candy for the Trunk R' Treat--
I offered it all up,
to be divided equally among the 3 yahoos
IF
we could just skip out on Trunk R Treat this year.
Hey,
I've been going to Trunk R' Treats for well over two decades.
And And And
our ward doesn't even do the Chili Cook-Off!

They did not accept my bribe
no way, no how.

It was worth a shot, right?

Building a Stronger Child Series

Building a strong family is only as strong as the foundation upon which it is built, 

am I right or am I right?

It takes as much focus to create and maintain a strong family as it does to build a strong home that can endure the many tests of time, especially in tough times.

SO...

Last Saturday, a thought popped into my head. It stirred 'round n' 'round until it settled in, good and deep and I decided to act upon it.  My brother-in-love, Zane, is a School Psychologist in what he describes at as a “Middle Class, Blue Collar, District” in the Bay Area of California.  He is an intelligent, well-spoken advocate for children in his profession.  He's also a well-seasoned father and grandfather.

I called him and asked if he’d be on board to help me write a few posts on how to help good parents be better parents.  Because I think he’s seen enough, heard enough--the good, the bad and the ugly--that his counsel is valid and has the potential to really help us parents who are striving to reach the goal of raising our children into healthy, responsible, loving adults.  That is our goal, right?  And most of us haven’t gone to school for Educational Psychology or the like, so having access to a professional who also holds a Masters Degree in Educational Psychology is a gift to the rest of us.  He may provide us with more "tools" to use as we create a healthier family
and that's always a good thing!

Zane has agreed to share his counsel in several parts:

  

I-                    Social Skills

II-                  Academic & Parental Expectations

III-                Understanding How Your Child Learns

IV-               Setting Boundaries

V-                 Peers and their Influence/ Q & A posts

The series starts Monday.  If you have questions along the way, you're welcomed to ask in the comments section or email me directly at DaybreakCO@msn.com and I'll forward them to Zane.  

Bring your hammer!

Oh My Sons! 2.0

You don't raise heroes, you raise sons. 

And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, 

even if it's just in your own eyes.
-- Author Unknown

A boy's story is the best that is ever told.

                                                             -- Charles Dickens

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, 

we find a delightful creature 

of a boy.

Do not train boys to learning by force and harshness, 

but lead them by what amuses them,

so that they may better discover the bent of their minds.

                                                                    -- Plato

Sons are the anchors of a mother's life.

                                                  -- Sophocles


My grandson, Garrett and my son Joseph
enjoying a fort of blankets in the diningroom.
Girls may be made of sugar and spice
but boys are full of mischievous delight!


What are your little boys made of?


**Thanks to Sue for letting me know comments weren't working again.  
I have no idea what's going on with blogger.

Dear Paula Deen,

You are precious.
From one Southern gal to another,
you know what I mean when I say
"precious", don't you?
Of course.

And I mean it,
you are.

I am the proud recipient of two of your classic cookbooks

This book speaks to my sausage n' grits-lovin' soul, Paula.
I would like to make one recipe a day for the rest of my life
cuz I think doing so would make each day just a little sweeter.
Why just last night I made one of your legendary ooey gooey butter cakes--
but I added the pumpkin n' spices to it
and used a chocolate cake mix for the base instead of a yellow one.
I'd show you a picture of it in all of it's delicious buttery goodness
but all that's left is crumbs.

And can I just say that your life story is warm and inspiring--
just like your cookin'.
Your example of determination and southern gumption is worth a Sunday sermon
all on it's own, sister.
They say the best revenge is living well
and Ms. Deen,
you're shinin' in the sun
like a junebug on a corn pone.

My husband and I were talking about the upcoming holidays--
and he said,
"I can't wait for Thanksgiving and all the food!"
He likes the spread we put out--
and this year,
you're going to make a showing at our feast!
I'm combing thru your cook books for my very favorite
down home recipe to become part of our holiday traditions--
cuz whatever you're cookin' has got to warm our hearts as well as our tummies.

We have a saying over our front door:
"The Best Place To Be is Together"
and wherever there's good southern food
you know everyone's happy.

Say, if you're ever in Colorado Springs,
I'd love to have you visit me in my kitchen
where we can visit like two southern neighbors
n' swap stories about all the good things in our lives
over some really great food.

Best Dishes!

~Momza


To get your own copy of Paula Deen's Savannah Country Cookbook,
go here.

A Mother's Treasure is her Daughter 2.0

 Did I ever tell you I am the oldest of five children?

And the ONLY girl?

Did I ever tell you how I craved a sister like nobody's business?

I wanted a sister so bad,

that when my mom delivered number five at the hospital,

and my dad came home from the hospital, announcing:

"It's another boy!"--

that I ran back to my bed and sobbed my 9 year-old eyeballs out!

 Then God sent me these girls.

These sisters.

These sweet n' saucy daughters.

When my first daughter was born,

I cried with sheer delight!

A GIRL!!

Finally!

And the final tally is 

FOUR daughters...

Danielle, Diana, Dara and Arianna.

And we are tight, yo.

Like-unto-a-dish-tight.

 They crack me up,

especially when they put on their 

big cranky-pants-pouty-faces.

 N' when they pose for glamour shots...

 Which turn out to be so stinkin' ridiculous.

 When they love one another

and lean into one another

for compassion, understanding, validation and correction--

then

THEN

I know we're doing really good at 

practicing what it means to be a 

Sister.

See those dark circles and bags under my eyes?

Totally worth what they cost:

long chats on the bed

talking about all the really juicy things in life.

Family

friends,

future.

A daughter is a beautiful reflection of God's grace.

Do you have sisters and/or daughters?

What have you learned from them?

I'm A Christian and A Mormon

I love my Savior Jesus Christ.
He is my Redeemer and my truest, dearest Friend.
I know that He loves me and knows me by name.
I worship Him and my Heavenly Father and noone else.
Not Joseph Smith--the man who restored the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth
or
Thomas S. Monson, the man who is called as our Prophet today.
I do not worship them.
I love their testimonies of Christ and their witness of His Divinity.
I am a Christian because I follow Christ.
I am not an Evangelical.
I am not a Protestant.
I am a Latter-Day Saint.
A Mormon.

Politics are not my thing.
I vote when I believe in a candidate
on any level--
local, regional or for POTUS...
and when I don't believe any of the candidates
I don't vote
for a "party" out of loyalty.

But it's near-impossible to ignore
the media's reporting on that Texas pastor,
Jeffress' remarks about
my faith.
It was even spoofed on the
Jon Stewart show last night.
I wasn't laughing.

The spoof was unilaterally discrediting
the Protestant, LDS and Jewish faiths--
but it wasn't funny.
It was unnerving.
And yes, I get that that's the point--
to bring to light the "ridiculousness"
of the very topic of
"faith" and contrast it with politics.
It doesn't fit.
Not in the world we live in
in 2011.

Truth is the world would be better if politics
had a moral, ethical, spiritual standard as it's foundation
we all know that,
but then we're mixing Church and State
and that's inherently controversial right there.

The LDS Church doesn't tell me who to vote for--
it just says to vote for the best candidate that my conscience allows.
I don't know Mitt Romney.
I've been reading up on him this last year,
assuming he might run again for President.
I'm not going to vote for him simply because he's
a member of my faith.
I know what he believes as a member of
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
What I don't know is
what he believes in as a
Republican Politician.
Truth is, I'm not sure about him yet.

What I am sure about is that I will not be voting for Rick Perry.
The fact that he chose Mr. Jeffress to speak for him
who is already on the record for his anti-Mormon opinions
speaks loudly to me about the kind of man Rick Perry is.
We are the company we keep.


I used to be Protestant.
I was raised in the Baptist faith--
and my father's side of the family are all members of
The Holy Pentecostal faith.
Some of them have their theology degrees from
The San Antonio International Bible College
and have run their own churches.
My father graduated from that same place.
But he chose not to be a pastor/reverend when he
became a young adult.
Frankly, it was because of the salary;
he became a salesman of goods
rather than a salesman of God.


When I was a teenager,
I studied the LDS faith at the invitation of a wonderful friend--
and chose for myself to be baptized into it.
I wasn't brain-washed or tricked into it.
Nope, I was taught the doctrine and invited to pray and know for myself
if it was true.
The Holy Ghost answered that prayer
and I have been a member going on 33 years next month.
Yes, it was that powerful of an answer
that changed my life forever.

I don't appreciate being told that I'm not a Christian
by people who profess to know Christ themselves.
And it's a lie.
It's a lie to protect their lifestyles.
I know Christ.
I have felt His love for me
in my darkest hours.
The Holy Ghost whispers peace to my soul
and witnesses the truth of all things to my heart and mind.
I am a Christian.
So when I hear from someone who has their own agenda--
political, social, or otherwise
that they know my faith better than I do,
it is insulting and wrong.
I know what I believe and in whom I put my faith.
I am not "misguided" or "deceived"--
it is literally the opposite.

I've sat in on Sunday School classes in the Baptist Churches of my youth
when it was "Cult Sunday".
I know what they preach against--
anyone who is not like them:
other Protestants, Catholics, 7th Day Adventists,
"The Mormons", and (gasp!) "The Jews"...
and any other perceived threat to their livelihood
or status in the community.


We don't have classes like that in the LDS Church--
we recognize that all faiths have good in them
as they extend the invitation to follow Christ.
Our time isn't spent together bashing other faiths
but strengthening our own.
That's why you don't hear a huge backlash from the
14+ Million members across the globe
when we're accused of all kinds of stupid things.
We don't have horns,
We don't have more than one spouse,
We don't do anything weird in our temples.
We do wear sacred garments.
And I find that that's a confusing topic of interest to people outside of our faith,
because if you look around
many faiths have unique sacred items of dress,
though usually on the outside
where ours is worn on the inside.
Just as our prayers are not to be shouted in public
for attention
Neither are our personal tokens of faith.
It's truly personal.

Okay, so I'm off track a bit--
I just wanted to set the record straight for anyone
who is not LDS and reads this to know
that I am a Christian and a Mormon.
The sign on my church building reads:
The Church of Jesus Christ 
of Latter-Day Saints.

Last week,
Jen Denton over at the Denton Sanatorium
shared our faith over the course of the whole week!
I loved how she did it and recommend it highly!

If you are not a member of the LDS faith and have questions,
please ASK.
I'll answer as best as I can and if you're also invited to check out the
Church's Official websites:
LDS.org
or
mormon.org

Celestial Child of Mine

Today is Dean's Birthday.
He's 24 today.
We won't see him today, but he'll spend the weekend with us and we'll celebrate then.
It's a time for reflection for me, when I think about this Celestial boy who holds my heart in the palm of his hand.
Raising a Celestial Child is not always a Celestial experience most days. It remains the single hardest thing my Heavenly Father has asked me to do on my Journey.
When Dean was born, I was 23 years old. He was my 3rd child in two years. I brought him home from the hospital on David Scott's 2nd birthday. We didn't realize Dean wasn't perfect for a couple more months. I was induced for his birth b/c I was supposedly overdue by the Doctor's records, but not by mine. Dean had a reaction to the pitocin--a known side affect--fetal asphyxiation. He didn't breathe for 10 minutes on his own at birth. IN fact, on his medical record is stated, "Stillborn but revived." So that lack of oxygen left him with cerebral palsy we would find out when he was 6 months old.
At first, I noticed he slept alot--but with two other children I counted that a blessing. I didn't know his brain had been traumatized and that was all he was capable of doing...sleeping. healing.
When I did take him to his well-baby appointments, the Dr. said because of the birth, Dean might be a little slower to develop and I should not compare him to the other children. Okay then.
By 4 months, Dean wasn't rolling over. He wasn't arching. Or grabbing. Or cooing. I made an appointment with a neurologist, Dr. Raun Melmud at Phoenix Children's Hospital. It took 6 weeks to get in. Once we were in tho, it only took Dr. Melmud 10 minutes to diagnose Dean.
Cerebral Palsy. I've shared before the immediate flood of emotions I felt and so I won't go into that again.
But Dean became the focus of my world. We were at Phoenix Children's Hospital and the St Joseph's Hospital 5 days in 7...his PT appt was 7am 3 days a week. I took the older kids with me to most appointments. The PT or OT would reward Dean and David Scott and Danielle with stickers for good behavior. I started putting those stickers in a journal for all of them...they got alot of stickers. Sometimes they wanted to wear the stickers on their clothes tho, so they did. Still, Dani & David Scott had to sit and be patient for hours and hours at the hospital...for 3 years.
On the flip side, I could take them anywhere in the Universe and receive compliments for how well-behaved they were.
When Dean finally started walking at nearly 5 years old, he was a sweet little angelic boy. Everywhere we went he drew people to his side with his bright blue eyes, blonde hair and huge smile. He was easier to take care of...no longer did we have to carry him everywhere or always have his stroller. He could walk with his walker and liked his independence.
As his hormones changed, so did he. He became unpredictable, impatient, demanding, violent, frustrated as often as he would be sweet, funny, cooperative and helpful. We just never knew from moment to moment what he would do.
We changed our behavior to prevent his outbursts. Sometimes it worked, and equally sometimes it didn't. He was sweet and attentive at school and church, but saved his temper for Home. He began having outbursts at school once in a blue moon and by the time he graduated HS, we knew something had to give. He was frankly, driving me crazy. I couldn't do enough to keep him busy and occupied--somedays it was more than frustrating. I didn't know what else to do. After a series of very violent outburst at home, one scared me, I PRAYED my guts out for help!
With what I believe was Divine Intervention, we found a program for Dean and he qualified to go to the TOP of the list...the waiting list that was 15 years long. I am not kidding. He went right straight to the Top. It was a host-home placement. We tried different homes before finding the right one...and we had to move to Fort Collins to find that one. He was there for 4 years until his care began to decline, and after a few more moves (which I shared here last year), he is in a host-home that is perfect for him.  We love his caregiver and feel his quality of life is as good as it could be.

At first, my mother heart was in agony over his absence. I could feel my heart aching. Tears. Lots and lots of tears. Why did Heavenly Father ask me to give 110% of my heart to this child and then not provide a way where I could take care of him for the rest of my life?--I wondered over and over. I cried everytime we took Dean home to his caregivers, so that I stopped being the one to take him home after a weekend visit with us. Or a week night dinner. Or after Church. I just couldn't leave him without an overwhelming flood of tears. So Mr W., or Dani took him home.
It's not as bad anymore. I can go, give him a hug goodbye and smile until I get back to the car. Then, I just "suck it up" and drive away. Leaving part of my Self there with him. I tell myself that it won't always be like this...that someday, when the other kids are grown, Dean can come home with me. That's what I want at least. Dean and I have a great time together when he's having a good day.
For now, my blessing is to be the mother to the rest of the crew they need me to be. I didn't realize how much the others had to sacrifice when Dean was at home. They sacrificed and had to make do with whatever was leftover of me after caring for Dean. A Special Needs child comes to a Family. And the entire Family is affected by that one child. From an eternal perspective, we are all in this experience together. We nicknamed Dean our "Golden Ticket" to the Celestial Kingdom...we've all said that how we treat Dean will determine our place in heaven. We take comfort in the knowledge that someday, we will know Dean as a perfected young man, without his limitations, and that will certainly be a Great day for all of us to gather 'round him and hear him express himself without using sign language or a speech impediment...and I imagine words will not be needed. What I didn't realize at the time was that while I was willing to live my whole life for Dean, Heavenly Father doesn't want me to. He isn't asking me to do that. I am the Mother to 7...and I am allowed to be the joyful mother to them all. That to me, is a grand gift indeed.
I love being Dean's mother and am entirely grateful he is still here with us. I love him so.

Hebrew for "Compassion"

Dara.
All of 16-going-on-17.

She is discovering her inner ambitions,
defining her own character
and while sometimes that process
leaves me with smoke curling around my ears,
there are small moments
that leave me so impressed with her choices.

Last week,
she went from being grounded,
her phone privileges suspended,
and basically on lock-down
to absolute freedom come Sunday night.

It was a teenaged miracle I tell you!

The turn-around began Thursday afternoon--
she called me at work to ask if she could go to a girls' house
to do a "makeover" on her.
Now, if I haven't shared this before,
making-over friends is something Dara aka Daisie
loves!
She loves fashion, make-up and hairstyling.
All of it.
"What Not To Wear" is a favorite show of hers--
she really pays attention to the details.

Anyway,
she'd told me earlier in the week that a classmate had approached her
about doing a makeover on her,
so when she called and asked if she could go over afterschool,
I gave the go-ahead.

Over the next two days
Dara spent a considerable amount of time
afterschool
working with this young woman--
teaching her how to style her hair,
apply skin care products and make-up,
the two of them went shopping
where Dara showed her how to dress for her body-type,
add accessories and shoes, etc.
She also went thru Stacey's closet--
tossing out old, out-of-style, too small
clothing and shoes.
It took hours and hours to get thru it all,
Dara says.
Why?

Because this young woman has Asperger's--
and needed the help.
Her parent's expressed much gratitude to Dara
for her time and effort
as none of their daughter's peers have ever taken the time
to do anything like this...
and that means alot to them.

Dara surprised me when she told me
that she had the patience to watch Stacey try on
every single piece of clothing
and then explain the emotional attachment she had to all of it.
"That took alot of time, Mom."
But Dara, being Dara, wasn't having any of it--
she said,
"I told her, 'Yeah, your granma may have given it to you, 
but it's too small, it is not attractive--
and you don't need it to go with your new style."

Ha! That is so Dara.

By the end of the second day,
Stacey was smiling at herself in the mirror
and her parents thanked a young woman
they barely knew
for putting that smile on their daughter's face.

As Dara related all of this to me,
I have to admit,
I felt great relief knowing this teenaged girl of mine
looked beyond herself to care for someone else.
Even when it was alot of work.

Dara has hopes that Stacey will come to school today
rockin' her new wardrobe and look.
"Maybe it'll help her make more friends n' stuff."


She earned back her phone and other privileges--
not just because of her service to someone else,
there was a long discussion last night about some other things--
but truthfully,
her service to another daughter of God

really helped her case.

She loves helping others.
Her heart is tender, especially, towards the needy.
I am grateful to be her mom.

"Dara" is hebrew for "compassion".

Embers in the home fire

Home fires.
The kind that warm your heart
ease your soul
extinguishes your shortcomings
and ignites your strengths.
Those are the kind of home fires
worth coming home for--
the kind I've been building my whole mother life.

Since Nana's arrival on Monday
it has been one long continuing glowing fire...
it began with her tight embrace
as she walked in the door
and stoked by long conversations
every minute of every day--
in the car
at the table
on the sofa
dancing in the kitchen
baking at the stove
loading the dishes
shopping the mall
singing in the car

thoughts n' feelings
burning hot and bright
to
warm and glowing embers.

Topics range from the distant past
to the here and now
and plans for days ahead.

Her heart has been singed being out in the world
these past 7 months--
leaving her a little raw
but saged just a shy.
Appreciation is more acute
for home and family
just as I knew would inevitably happen.
Needed to happen.

My confidant, "I-know-who-I-am-n'-what-I-want-girl" went away to the West side of the Rockies
and came home a humble "I-found-out-who-I-am-and-what-I-don't-want-young woman".

It's been good for her, really.

N' It's funny--
this girl who loves to GO GO GO
has stayed at my side
as others have beckoned her to come n' play.
She not ready to play.
She's still sitting by the fire.

First Snowfall in Colorado Springs 2011

Friday was all sunshine and fall colors

but

Saturday we woke up to THIS:

 Which I totally loved! It was a good reason to stay inside and get stuff done!

We also made a delicious breakfast--eggs, sausage, cheesy grits, cinnamon rolls, n' hot cocoa!

 We broke out the tv quilts and the yahoos cuddled under them 

watching Saturday morning cartoons

n' turned on the fireplace.

(I do miss our wood burning fireplace, with it's crackling n' such, but this was a nice substitute!)

 I took a nap that last two whole hours.

And it was guilt-free!

The yahoos dug out their winter gear and boots

to play in it and we celebrated the first snow of 2011!

By Sunday, most of it was melted.

Boo!

N' today, 

it's nothing but sunshine and blue skies again.

Did I ever tell you

how much I love Colorado?

October at Rocky Mountain National Park

Push the sandals and t-shirts

into the back of the closet

and bring forward

boots and sweaters

n' scarves

fleece and wool~

 It's Fall in The Rocky Mountains.

Friday, we took a trip up North:

 Arriving at the Alluvial Fan Falls...which were created in 1982 when a natural dam burst and flooded Horseshoe valley and all the way into Estes Park, leaving behind this beauty in its' place.

 With warmer temps than usual this year, Fall is just arriving at RMNP.

 Is there a bluer blue?

 This boy's been coming here since he was "en utero", and then on his father's back.

 Pines always prick my soul with delight.

Wading in the freezing waters with a little help.

Singing a song for her own ears...

 ~Rocks already caked in ice shimmer in the sunlight~

 What can I say to make you feel how beautiful it all is?

 Someone's token of appreciation left behind...

I could live forever right here.

She is happiest outside in the Rockies...

"Smile, Ari."

"C'mon."

"Aww. Nevermind, you nutball." 

 ...messin' with someone else's tribute.

What is about Aspens that fascinate me so?

 IF you can spot the red shirt at the top, 

that's Mr. W and the two youngest with him...

they climbed up until they were outta sight.

 See the speck of pink and yellow?  That's Daisie! A solo climber she has always been. In life too,

she trusts her own abilities. I think she learned that climbing mountains.

A green fern on the way to Alberta Falls...snow had visited earlier in the week bidding the other ferns to rest for the winter.  Sometimes I am like the little green fern--I'm kinda clueless about what's going on around me.

I have a thing for Fall--whether it's in the Appalachians of North Carolina, the midwest hills of Missouri,
Idaho--doesn't matter where, as long as there's gold & red leaves, gorgeous sunsets, cinnamon n' pumpkin spices, sweaters n' blankets, candlelight and crisp air and family to share it with--I'm diliriously happy.

He's A Cross Country Boy

For Joseph:

I always loved running... it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power.  You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs.  ~Jesse Owens

"Jogging is very beneficial. It's good for your legs and your feet. 

It's also very good for the ground. It makes it feel needed."

 ~Charles Schulz, Peanuts

"Only one person and one person only will determine how good of a runner you become...

You will become as good as you let yourself be.

That one person is you."

"When you put yourself on the line in a race

and expose yourself to the unknown,

you learn things about yourself that are very exciting."

~Doris Brown Heritage

5-time World Cross-Country Champion

 When I was about 14 or 15, and running in a pretty muddy cross country race, one of my shoes stuck in the mud and came off. Boy, was I wild. To think that I had trained hard for this race and didn't do up my shoelace tightly enough! I really got aggressive with myself, and I found myself starting to pass a lot of runners. As it turned out, I improved something like twenty places in that one race. But I never did get my shoe back.

- Rob de Castella

 Stadiums are for spectators. We runners have nature and that is much better. 

Juha Väätäinen, Finland

 Ask yourself: 

"Can I give more? The answer is usually: Yes."

~Paul Tergal

 Running is like mouthwash; 

if you can feel the burn, it's working. 

                                      ~Brian Tackett

 People ask why I run. 

I say, "If you have to ask, you will never understand". 

It is something only those select few know. 

Those who put themselves through pain, 

but know, 

deep down, 

how good it really feels. 

                                     ~Erin Leonard