Holly, Jolly, Holiday Season

Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year...partly because our little community totally rocks out Christmas celebrations. Our local tree lighting downtown, complete with hot cocoa and Brunswick stew, starts out the season with a bang. The following day we all join together again to watch the Christmas parade...most of the time in flip flops. {Florida, we're gaining on you.}

One of our traditions is to put the tree up the day of the Christmas parade. A tradition that comes from my childhood. Every year we would attend the parade, sometimes visit the winter carnival at the elementary school, then scoot home to put up our tree...all while listening to Dolly Parton's Christmas Hits on cassette tape. When Little Miss was little, I continued the tradition but instead of the winter carnival, we usually shopped for a new ornament or five at The Christmas Shop. This year was the last year The Christmas Shop would be open- and since they began their closeout sale in November- I couldn't bear to see the bare {slight pun intended} walls. I wanted to remember it how it looked when I was little- and for Little Miss to remember it how it was when she was little. So we skipped it, knowing a new tradition would have to take it's place eventually, but not this year. This year we sat out ornament shopping all together in honor of the fun memories we shared at The Christmas Shop.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, we all enjoyed the silly visits from our Elf on the Shelf, Ruby. Her antics never cease to amaze us. {Except for that one night that she apparently got caught trying to fly back to the North Pole and had to remain in her original hiding spot...that was a perplexing morning- but we all made sure to stay quiet and get to bed early from there on out, to ensure that her magic wouldn't be seen.}

The night before Christmas, we baked cookies and went to Bub and Granddad's house for dinner. The turkey, the stuffing, the collards...{dear sweet baby jesus, the collards} it was all amazing. We were still full when I heard the stomping of tiny little seastar feet walking down the hall on Christmas morning.

"WAIT!!!" I said, dashing, prancing and dancing towards the living room. #reindeermoves

I stopped them just in time to get a picture of their faces as they ran passed us to check out their Santa stuff.

I, personally, think this was one of the best Christmas mornings yet. Thank you, little baby Jesus, for giving us a reason to celebrate with our family!

What Makes Us Parents?

I am a mother. It is the most honorable title I hold. I'm a photographer...a legal assistant...a friend...{sometimes a pain in the artichoke}...a lover...a fighter. But mother, that is a title I didn't apply for. I was given that title by Little Miss and have worked diligently each and every day to live up to the high standards of those moms before me. {My family rocks it at motherhood, the shoes I stepped into were huge.}

I was blessed to gain this title initially in the most conventional way- I simply gave birth. {15 hours of labor, simple} I gave birth and then took care of my daughter, in order to hold onto the honorable title. Others become parents by marrying someone who has children already or adopting...which still allows them the respective parent title.

I heard the wheels squelch to a screeching halt as some of you read that. You can become a parent by marrying another parent? It's contagious like that?! Well, only if you're born to be a parent- only if it's in your heart already. You don't just 'poof' become a parent- you have to prove yourself, no matter how you become a parent. I have heard an argument recently regarding step-parenting that totally struck a nerve. Oh, he's so good with her kids. Or- She treats his kids just like hers, even though they aren't her blood. This baffles me for one simple reason- if you adopted a child, would you treat that child any differently than your biological, blood-related child? Of course not. So why is it so surprising when you see a step-parent being...*shock* good at their job? It all boils down to loving a child and making sure their needs are met. Why would anyone ever want a child to feel like they are less than wonderful? Or worse, like they are not good enough? We could all learn a lesson from our children in that respect- they love with their whole hearts. They tend to not see color or judge what is normal- they simply see a person who cares about them, no matter what blood relation or title exists.

In our our home, we opted not to call each other step-anythings. I'm not a step-mother...that sounds so cliche and Cinderella-ish. {I would never let my hair be gray or wear those awful gowns.} We are bonus parents. Our girls are 'sea-stars' and the our titles to them? We are BooMa + BooPa. {We have called each other Boo from the start...our kids are super creative- bam, our names were born.} Being a bonus parent does not take away from our little one's biological parents' position- it simply adds to it...an extra person to love, an extra person to learn from and look up to. Being a bonus parent and holding the title of BooMa is a pretty noble and rocking title, if you ask me. It was something I had to earn...and continue to have to earn. I am so proud to be able to add it to the list of my many titles.

Up next for new titles? Trick-rider. 

He's There.

If you ever need a reminder that God is there...just ask.

Dare County Boat Builders 12th Annual Fishing Tournament was this past weekend. I worked at it last year and stood quietly at my uncle's boat, Sea Hunter 2. Tears rolled down my checks because I missed him being there- telling stories and bragging about the days catch. I texted him a picture of the boat and told him I loved him.

I miss you, darlin. And I love you too. 

This year I knew it was going to be strange. While he hadn't been able to attend the tournament in years, this was the first year I would be there without being able to call and retell stories to him and hear his laugh. Mom and I talked in depth about it. She felt the same way.

"He will be there this year though, right beside you," Mom said.

On Saturday evening, Mom and I were standing out by the pig cookers...stealing fried food. ;-) I told her that I had walked Little Miss over to the boat and how different it looked. The pink lettering is now blue...doesn't have the same sparkle that it once did. Then a truck caught my attention.

"Colton James," I said pointing to his truck, scarfing down another shrimp, "that's the guy who is performing tonight. He fished in the tournament too--"

I was abruptly cut off by a scream from my mother.

"THAT'S VERNON'S FRIEND!! Eden!! That's Colton...the one Vernon always talked about...."

She continued talking about Colton fishing with Big Gully as she darted over to the truck to attack the man getting out of the driver's seat. {thankfully, it was Colton}

He hugged her and held her for a moment. He told her Capt. Vern was one of a kind, an amazing friend and an incredible fisherman. 

He took the stage later that evening and we were able to hear songs live, that Big Gully had always wanted us to hear. I knew he was right there...dancing around the room with his lovely wife- both healthy and laughing together, like they always did.

So, I want to thank God for reminding me that when I think something is going to be hard- He is there. And when I am really missing someone I've lost...He is there and so are they.

Thank you, God, Big Gully and Heather Maxwell...for bringing Colton to Pirate's Cove again. ;-)

The Lost Colony + Little Miss

On Valentine's Day, we celebrated my uncle's life- affectionately known as Big Gully, Capt Vern, Goat....On a day known for celebrating love...we celebrated our love for him by sharing stories from the book of his life.

The following week, Little Miss auditioned for The Lost Colony. She practiced a poem to recite in front of the director- a simple poem about bears that she said reminded her of Big Gully. My stomach was in knots for her...but she held her head high and wasn't nervous at all.

About 6 weeks later, we heard back from her audition. Unfortunately, the news wasn't what we wanted to hear. They encouraged her to audition again next year because she did a phenomenal job. Little Miss was devastated. (I'm talking- homegirl was ready to start a riot.)

A month went by- she would ask here and there when the play was starting. Followed by, "Mama- I don't think I can go watch it this year...I'm still so upset I didn't make it." I told her we didn't have to...but tried to encourage auditions again. 

A few weeks ago, I heard from the casting director again.

"Is Riya still interested in acting? We have a child who couldn't make the summer commitment and Riya was at the top of our list!"

I almost dropped the phone. I may have screamed in his ear. {stage mom status}

Little Miss was to the moon with excitement. She couldn't wait to get to her first rehearsal and find out all the details of the part she would play in the longest-running outdoor drama in the United States.

On the first day of rehearsals, we gathered in the backstage area of Waterside Theater. I told Little Miss stories from my childhood- from playing backstage to walking across the stage on my high school graduation day...she was too enthralled with her own experience to hear my tales.

"This year...we will be doing something a little different. Each year, our narrator is dressed in somewhat of a graduates outfit- and reads from a book to help the audience understand some of the details in the show," said the director.

"This year- our 'historian' will be more of a local looking guy. A man with a white beard, a fishing cap and boat shoes...an older fisherman-type," he said.

I felt Little Miss tug at my arm.

"It sounds just like Big Gully, Mama!" she said.

I couldn't help but fight back tears. I was thinking the exact same thing. 

"He will pull two children from the audience each night to help him explain the story," he explained.

"I hope I get that part!" Little Miss whispered.

"Riya...can you come up here to stand with our historian...you'll be spending a lot of time together this summer!" he said.

The tears streamed down my face as the other moms surely thought I had lost my mind. {overly proud stage mom?} 

Little Miss stood next to the historian, beaming from ear to ear.

As the sun set beautifully over the sound that my uncle fished in daily, I knew he had something to do with this moment. Not only did Big Gully help get Little Miss into The Lost Colony...he got himself a part, right beside her, too.

Ho Ho Holidays

The Christmas season is so busy that it seems like- by the time the stockings are filled and the turkey is in the oven...I realize a gazillion tradition I would've liked to have done with my little family. But didn't.

One new tradition we started- we welcomed an Elf on the Shelf to our family this year. Her name is Ruby. The day she arrived from the North Pole- Little Miss saw a tiny white feather beside her. She decided Aunt Ruby (who has real wings b/c she's an angel now) must've had a hand in the elf finding us. (I cried.) While many elves seemed very energetic at night, according to their human's facebook pages, ours tended to just hop from place to place. I had a heck of a time remembering to "leave the window open" for the Elf...so she could fly in & out. (aheeem) 

On Christmas Eve, in between deep-cleaning the house b/c apparently, I thought Santa was coming to stay-a-while, Little Miss, Mr.B and I baked and decorated cookies. They were delicious...Santa shared.

The morning of the big day- I woke up at 6am. I had butterflies in my belly just like I did when I was a little one. I tip-toed out into the living room and saw what the jolly-ole-elf left for us. I fixed my coffee, put the breakfast casserole into the oven- and snuggled back down in bed. Two hours (TWO HOURS) later, Little Miss woke up...and stumbled into our bedroom. The three of us walked into the living room together & Little Miss was overjoyed with the American Girl accessories Santa left for her & her doll. A few minutes later, my parents arrived with homemade biscuits...and my Christmas was complete. (They were cheese biscuits...mmmm my heart skips a beat just thinking about the little dollops of dough filled with cheese.)

Little Miss shredded through present after present- Barbie, clothes...hmmm- a small box that doesn't rattle? This is probably a boring...IPAD!!?!?? Then she peed a little.

At that point, neither of us cared about any other presents- we just wanted to play with our new toys. We got my parents a Kindle Fire...and my dad (the truck driving, mechanic, who's far from a tech-savvy fella) hasn't put it down yet. He asked me yesterday about Twitter...he wants to sign up. I love it.

Once the presents were opened and it was time to play with our gifts...shockingly, no one wanted a photo. No problem- that's why I have pets...because they're loyal and there for you when you need them. Hmph.

Thanks, Kitties.

I was able to sneak a few of Little Miss...after lying and saying "Noooo I'm not shooting you...I'm shooting this piece of wrapping paper in the floor." (Bedhead documented...sweet!)

And yes...half the lights on our Christmas/Hanukkah tree don't work. It was already decorated...I figured from outside- you can only see half the tree anyway, so I justified my laziness.

Who needs lunch when someone gives you a GIANT chocolate kiss? Yea...eat it, girlfriend.

Later that afternoon, we moseyed over to my parents home to have an early dinner. Santa left a surprise for Little Miss there too!! A kitchen for her "apartment" at Bub & Gran'Dads!!

Christmas spent with family...what more can you ask?

Nail Polish & Roses

Sometimes, you just need a little pampering with your 'sister from another mister'...I swear, sometimes nail polish will fix what ails ya. Little Miss and I spent the day with my "turtle" sissy, her broken back and her precious 1 year old little girl. It was a total "girlie" day complete with a photo shoot and bubbly pedicures. (Sidenote: nail polish remover will win in a battle against a kitchen table.)

Little Miss loves hanging with younger pals, like little Gracie. So much so, that tonight when we discussed our rose and thorn of our day- she said her rose was spending the day with Gracie...and her thorn? Having to leave Gracie. Is your heart melting? Mine did...my rose instantly became hearing about her rose/thorn!

A few nights ago, I mentioned I'd extended an olive branch to a few special family members my heart has been missing. While I was prepared for any outcome, I received emails and calls from them that were filled with love, thankfulness and excitement. I was a total sap and cried when I read their messages. We all agreed that we could focus on making new memories, remembering happy past ones...and close the chapter (that didn't directly involve us) of negativity.

I would have to say reuniting with family and learning about their current lives, even through calls/emails, was the rose of my week. And my thorn? Well...I can't say I have one.

Family

Family. They can drive you crazy. They can hold you when you cry. They can make you laugh until your sides hurt. They can hurt you- and because they're family, you forgive them.

All families have their issues. They have arguments and go through periods of time where they don't speak. But the thing with family is that nothing will ever change the fact that you are that...you are family. We stand by our family...which can make arguments among family members difficult for innocent bystanders. While we want to stand by and support those in the 'ring'...we want to be able to continue our own bonds, as well.

I decided today that life is too short for rifts, arguments and silence. Before we know it, the chance to call & say "Hey...this is out of hand- let's fix it and make happy memories" will be gone. Reminiscing about past memories together, won't be possible. Sharing those memories with the younger generations will be lost in the shuffle of an argument that grew faster and larger than a crop smothered with miracle grow. An argument that began so long ago...we're all thinking "wait...what is it we're fighting for, again?"

So today...I reached out to family members I haven't spoken to since Little Miss was a wee-one. I put myself in the position to get rejected- to have my olive branch swatted right back at me. I opened my arms (via facebook- it's not just for cyber bullies!) and my heart to my family...because I felt in my heart, it was what I needed to do. For me, selfishly...just for me. Even if the olive brach is swatted away, I won't harbor ill feelings. I will know I did what I needed (for me) to heal my own heart.


But coffee, memory sharing and kids playing in the near-future sure would be nice. ;-)

Arguing

Ask anyone. I can argue until the cows come home. I never tire or weaken my argument...I only grow stronger. I can argue until my opposer tosses their hands in the air in frustration and gives up...then I will consider arguing the point of why it took us so long to realize I'm.Always.Right.

Ask my friends...ask my mom...ask the man at the grocery store who attempted to tell me there was no banana yogurt in the box he was stocking the refrigerated shelves with- I will win. (And I'll win with yogurt!)

That being said...while arguing doesn't typically phase me- arguing with a tiny clone of myself, does. Little Miss doesn't choose her battles...she clearly wants to challenge the man at the grocery store who seems to think her mother is an arguing maniac. She thinks I'm a wimp. She sees my skills and throws fire on them. She will argue over any.thing.

I remember my first argument with my mother. (Well, it may not have been the first argument with her- but it was the first time I realllly pissed her off during an argument.) I want to say I was in first grade...and I believe the argument was over something silly like brushing my teeth.

Silly little argument...mmhmm, you're now rounding the bend to bite me in the arse, eh? I see ya. Oh and Hello, Karma...glad you could join us too.

School mornings begin with sweet cuddles from Little Miss in her bed. We get the clothes down that we've picked out from the night before...and it starts.

"These socks don't match!" Little Miss demands.

"They're pink. You're wearing pink...it matches," I respond.

"It's not the same pink!"

"Well, it coordinates...come on- lets go brush you're hair, monkey."

"I am changing my socks! These look horrible!"

I consider swapping coffee for wine...but know I'll never pull it off.

We argue over the color of the socks back and forth until finally...she decides she will just wear shoes that cover the socks. (While cursing me and calling me color blind in her head, I'm sure.)

In a few short moments, we're out the door and on our way to school. Hugs and kisses commence and before I know it- my little girl is sitting in a classroom full of kindergarteners and I'm? Crying in my truck because we fought over socks. SOCKS.

I argue with myself in my head...I should've just let her change & not argued. But what is that teaching her? That she can spend 30 minutes changing socks in the morning before school to find the perfect color hue to match her shirt? Doesn't that just promote child OCDs? Is that even a thing?

The afternoon rolls around and Little Miss bounds into the truck like a kitten with a ball of yarn. She's thrilled to see me and tell me all about her day. I'm thrilled to hear about every tiny detail. (Even the day she apparently beat up a boy on the playground for being a bully. Thats a post in itself.)

We get home and begin homework. Yes, kindergarteners have homework too...and since Little Miss went to preschool for 3 years- it should be a breeze for her, right?

We begin with a name-writing worksheet. I think it will be a piece of cake because...again, she was in preschool- homegirl can write her name with her eyes closed. But now, she is asked to write the letters a certain way- not just to make them look like letters.

"I can write them however...it looks the same," she tells me.

"Well, your teachers are suggesting we practice doing it this way- so we can-"

"They hate my handwriting! I want to write it my way! The way I have always done it!" she interrupts.

She's slightly more dramatic than I am. She goes from zero to hysterical in less than 2 seconds.

We work with the letter y...since it is in her name. We practice over and over...and finally, she stops arguing, opens her brain and realizes it's not difficult. But you have to try...

So our days in the B home have been a little trying. But we will get through it because clearly...we're fighters. ;-)

A Different Coffee Date

A few weeks after she passed away, I felt butterfly kisses on my cheek in the middle of the night. I knew it was her, my Mama Jennie. She was the most special person in my childhood...and I was the apple of her eye. We meant the world to each other.

I was in 5th grade and the only real death I'd experienced was when my horse passed away the year before. This was different though- as sad as I was, I knew Mama Jennie was her "old self" again up in heaven. I cried because I missed her, selfishly...but even at that young age, I knew she was happier looking down on us everyday, than she was in a nursing home, seeing us weekly. We joked that all her husbands were fighting over her when she arrived.

The butterfly kisses came nightly for a while- I told my mom that I knew it was her. They say children let spirits in easier than adults- who knows why, but I always believed it...and tried to keep my mind open so she'd always visit. 

This morning while making my coffee, I couldn't figure out where the smell of Oil of Olay, Oatmeal and chewing tobacco ("snuff") was coming from. The oddest combination of sweet smells, but where were they coming from? I smelled it everywhere I went. Then it hit me...Mama Jennie. I cried because I was so happy that I'd not been too busy to realize it was her. I cried because I was happy she wanted to come and check on me this morning...when I felt so terribly lonely. I cried because I missed smelling her, hugging her and being held by her. 

Then, I thanked her, dried my tears and smiled for the time we had together.

Bubble-Bath-Taking Elephant

I haven't taken a bubble bath in forever. Let's face it, what mom actually has time for a bath? A bath takes entirely too much time. I hardly have time for a 5 minute, all-business shower.

I'm also a paranoid, freak...I believe we've covered that, right? Right. I can't take showers when no one else is here- they're too loud I can't hear what's going on in the house. (Yep, with 3 dobermans and a chihuhua- the shower is what's loud.) Why do I even need to hear every creek or crack our house makes while I'm in the shower when I have 3 dobermans and a chihuahua? Because if you came into our house with a vaccum cleaner- the dobermans would throw their paws up, point you to the jewelry and beg you not to switch that satanic-monster on. Vi-cious. So tonight, I decided I'd take a bubble bath- complete with lavandar candles. It was the most relaxing 20 minutes I've had in weeks. Ah-mazing

Naturally, while relaxing my mind raised through some not-so-relaxing topics. I thought about my mother. She's gone through so much health stuff this year. The surgery she had back in January kind of...didn't work, in a round-about way. She will have to have a hysterectomy in a few weeks. She has a specialist who I'm more than confident in- but this is my mom we're talking about, I'm not confident enough in anyone to perform surgery on my mom. Ontop of that, Mom broke her ankle right after the hurricane & has pretty much been on bed rest since. (She's the absolute worst patient in the world b/c she's so considerate of others. She doesn't want to ask for help or have anyone do anything for her. I've caught her doing laundry and trying to figure out how to hop and drink coffee at the same time.) I am so thankful for my mom and for everything she does for our family. She doesn't stop with just our family- she treats everyone she comes in contact with like they're hers. She worries about them, she prays for them, she helps them in any way she can. It's been wonderful to see those people she's tended to, worried about, prayed for, etc, come by to return the favor. Her cast is full of signatures from family, co-workers and friends. (Oh, and I drew some leopard on her cast. A girl can never have too much leopard.) My thankfulness turned to anger when I thought about those who haven't even picked-up-the-phone to say hello. Whether it's a co-worker who's gone from seeing her everyday to not seeing her at all, or friends from way back that my mom would drop everything for, no matter how many years had gone by...the phonecalls and visits that didn't/haven't happened seemed to be screaming at me. I know I shouldn't focus on that- and if it was me, I probably wouldn't. I tend to be more protective over my loved ones than I am over myself.

I gave up on my relaxing bubble bath- but my mind wouldn't stop spinning.

The irony is- my mom would never bring up any of the negative. It's not her style. She won't bring up who didn't call or come by- and when she's healed, she won't hold it against them. I understand that everyone has a life to live, and many don't have much spare time...but you have to learn how to make time for those who make time for you. My mother will stay up way too late to accomplish her obligations, after she's spent all afternoon helping someone else accomplish theirs. It's just how she is- she is the most giving person I know.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to those of you who've called or visited my mom. It means as much to me as it does to her. And to those of you who haven't...think of me as the bubble-bath-taking elephant in the family- I never forget. ;-)

I Can Breathe, Again

A few weeks ago I stopped breathing. Two days ago, I started breathing again.

My mom went to the doctor because she'd been having some pains in her side. As it turns out, they found out what was causing the pain- but found a few other things that they wanted to take a closer look at. Upon taking the closer look, they found something that needed a biopsy. When words like malignant and cancerous started being thrown around by the doctor- my hands started sweating, my ears began ringing and I could no longer focus.

My mom is my best friend. Without her, I'm not sure if I would ever, ever get anything accomplished. I call her at least four times per day. We share everything with each other and sometimes, yes...we want to strangle each other, but most of the time- we're best friends who laugh, cry and make fun of ourselves and others. 

I thought about my good friend Donna, who just recently passed away with cancer. I thought about her family and this first holiday season without her. I felt like it was unfair of me to voice my worry to my very good friend, Casey, Donna's daughter. As life would have it, she was one of the only people who made my worry subside.

The doctor's told us before we left their office that the biopsy results could be back by Friday...by Wednesday of the following week, we still had nothing. I was a nervous wreck...I couldn't sleep...I would cry in the bathroom...the thought of Christmas made me nauseous because of the what ifs that were flying through my head.

Wednesday morning I was sitting in my parent's living room when the phone rang- the doctor's office. Mom picked up the phone and walked to the bedroom- I followed right behind her. By the time I realized I was getting no information through pushing my ear up against the closed door, I barged into the room with her. She held up her hand with an okay symbol...and I could finally breathe again.

I couldn't contain my excitement. I wanted to scream from the rooftops that my mom was okay! The best I could manage was posting it on my facebook status. 

Almost immediately, my phone rang. With tears streaming down my face, I answered. It was Casey.

"I heard the good news!" she said.

I cried even harder...but I tried so hard to hide it. Of all of my friends, Casey was the first to call. She just lost her mom to the same ugly disease that I was so thrilled my mom didn't have. She was as excited as I was to hear the news...and wanted to call me to share the moment with me. Not text, not comment on facebook- but call. That phone call meant more than anyone will ever know to me. Thank you, Case...I love you.

Mom will go in the have some minor surgery on the 30th- the first of two. I will be right by her side, whether she thinks she needs me there or not...but this time- neither one of us will have any reason to hold our breath. ;-)

In it for the Cookies

Several weeks ago, Little Miss came home from preschool singing some lovely new holiday tunes. How did I know she learned these at preschool without even so much as asking her? Simple. She sang each word to each song with the exact accent of her teacher. So it was no surprise that she was delighted to head over to her preschool a few days ago for her big Christmas program.

Sidenote: I purchased an adorable Christmas outfit for her to wear to her program- complete with an embroidered Christmas tree on the top. Although it wasn't a dress, which is basically the only thing Little Miss will wear, I hoped that since it was pink...maybe, just maybe, she'd be thrilled with it. No dice, amigo. She plainly looked at the adorable outfit and said "Mom, that is not a dress. I'm not wearing it. I have to wear a dress." Thankfully, her Bub saw all this playing out long before I purchased the adorable Christmas outfit and purchased a zebra dress for her to wear...just in case.

Thanks, Bub. You saved the day.

It started snowing just as we left the house. Could you ask for better weather when you're heading to a Christmas program? I think not! Big, fluffy flakes filled the sky (and stuck to absolutely nothing) as we made our way over to the preschool building. Little Miss was so excited to perform...right up until we walked into her classroom. She agreed to go sit by her teacher, so long as she could face the opposite direction.

New friends and old filed into the classroom. Little Miss decided she'd be a bit social and join the crowd of little people.

But that only lasted a few moments. When the other parents began filing in for the big show, Little Miss high-tailed it into her Gran'Daddy's lap.

After the big show, Little Miss was off to visit with her friends. Her shyness wore right off- just in time for the singing and bell-ringing to be over. I was able to snap a few photos of a couple of my favorite gals, Sydnee and Amie, by the Christmas tree! I've known Amie forever...and now our girls can say the same. ;-)

Who needs singing and bell-ringing, anyway? Little Miss was just in it for the Christmas tree cookies. ;-) And...there is always next year!!

Simply Magical

The holidays are here! It's official- the town Christmas tree has been lit!

One thing I love about living in our small, island town is the small, island festivities. This past Friday, we joined hundreds of local folks to lite the town Christmas tree, sing carols, drink hot chocolate, freeze our tails off, and of course, to meet a jolly ole elf...the jolly ole elf. It was a wonderful time.

It's always a joy to see how Little Miss changes from year to year in regards to Santa Claus. One year she's absolutely terrified, the next year she thinks he's okay as long as I'm in his lap too, but this year? Oh this year she was all

about it. (Particularly because, jolly ole Saint Nick? He looks a heckuva lot like my uncle, Little Miss's great-uncle, Big Gully.)

She insisted on showing Santa the bow on the front of her sparkly dress...in true flasher style. (A dress she fought tooth and nail to wear...) She then told him she would like two fashion Barbies, one for her and one for her Bub...and the Santa movie. ("You know, the one they made about you, Santa.") She could hardly fall asleep that night- talking about how amazing it was to meet Santa. Simply magical.

Thankful

This Thanksgiving was one of firsts.

I cooked my very first turkey. I almost threw-up on said turkey, during the 'prep' process. I cooked two pumpkin pies, for the first time ever...and here is the big first, nothing caught on fire and everything tasted amazing! (Oh, and no one got sick! Yay!)

Although I cooked quite a few dishes at home, we ate dinner over at my parents home. It was nothing short of a smorgousborg of incredible food. Collard greens? Oh yes, with cornmeal dumplings. Yum, it makes my heart flutter like a teenager with her first crush.

Recipes from family members past and present flooded the thanksgiving table, as did the memories. It reminded me to be thankful for things those past relatives have left behind- whether it's a plate or a recipe,  morals or butterfly kisses...never take a moment for granted, they pass by too quickly.

Speaking of recipes, let's talk about dessert and my grandfather's recipe for pineapple cake. Yum-O. Or my daddy's recipe for chocolate-cheesecake...well, it's not actually his recipe, but he found it somewhere & made it wonderfully.

After dinner, Little Miss decided to click her sparkly heels and transform herself into a dancing machine. Let's face it, she didn't need to transform much at all.

I'm thankful she got rhythm from someone else in the family. I look like I'm having small seizures when I 'break-it-down'.

And I'm oh-so-thankful for our four-legged family. They make me laugh on a daily basis- sometimes in the midst of almost-breaking-my-neck from tripping over one-of-the-five of them.

Sweet Pea stalked the kitchen all morning, certain there would be some sort of turkey scraps he'd need to dispose of. Just when he gave up, the bacon was ready. About the time he dropped a tiny bacon crumb, which prompted Tinker to fly in like his butt was on fire, I was moving the over-flowing pumpkin pie towards the oven. Tinker got under my feet and ended up with pie filling from ears to tail. He was thrilled!!

I'm thankful I didn't have a sink full of dishes at that very moment, so I could toss my pie-covered chihuahua into the sink for a bath. (Yes, I bathe him in the sink...in the kitchen.)

Even though the turkey almost didn't get cooked and the pie almost didn't make it to the oven, it was the most perfect Thanksgiving we've ever had. Now, bring on Hanukkah and Christmas! Let the decorating being!!

Family

Although funerals are never pleasant- it does tend to bring family members together that may not have seen each other in quite some time.

This was the case for me. Two years ago I swore I wouldn't be in the same room with my cousin, Johnna until she had been clean and free from drugs for several years. I swore I wouldn't let my daughter around her- because I remember being hurt so badly by promises Johnna would make to me...and I didn't want the same for Little Miss. But sometimes...promises we make to ourselves get broken easier than promises we make to others. The day before Aunt Ruby passed away, I walked over to her house & found Johnna in her yard...planting flowers. She was eleated to look up & see us coming towards her...and I must admit, so was I. My cousin, with all her flaws and f*ck ups (sorry, there is just no other way to put it) is a good-hearted person. She loves her family...but sometimes her addiction sufficates that love & she hurts all of us more than she will ever realize. When she's drug-free, she's a wonderful person. Today, I'm enjoying that drug-free, wonderful person...because tomorrow, she may not be that person.

Anyway...after seeing Johnna for the first time in two years, Little Miss immediately fell for her. I saw the twinkle in both of their eyes and it took me back to the mounds of memories I have with Johnna. From horse rides (before I had my own) to tiger adventures...yes, tigers- she took me to see baby tigers when I was Little Miss's age & the baby tiger took my pacifier. I have photos to prove it. (And yes, I was almost 4 and still carried a pacifier...and look, I'm fine!) Little Miss picked flowers with her, played hide and seek- anything Little Miss asked, Johnna did.

Little Miss also fell for another cousin...one who she actually fell for several years ago.

They actually might've fought for her attention a little...;-)

Remember my aunt who had heart surgery a couple years ago? Can you believe how great she looks?! She's the definition of a fighter. And Tabb, again...she just oozes happiness, doesn't she? :-)

I know some people don't take pictures at/before/after funerals...but we do. We took advantage of Aunt Ruby's beautiful yard, something she was so proud of, and the fact that we were all 'dolled up'. You know, we live in the South- you're hard pressed to get us out of our camo! (I'm just kidding...I don't even own any camo- ok, that's a lie.)

The reason Tabb is oozing happiness...

...simply b/c I'm her favorite...there, I said it.

This is a typical face made by my daddy...I'm not sure what he was saying, but I know Tabb took this picture- which means whatever he was saying is probably not blog-appropriate.

Aunt Ruby's caregivers for many years...her nieces and nephew.

No matter how old Aunt Ruby's girls were...she always called them her girls. And no matter how old I am...I'll always be one of her babies.

Little Miss's favorite snack of the day...

And I have to put this in here...it was buried with my sweet, feisty Aunt Ruby- her coffee-pot. It was on every day, all-day...she drank so much that I'm quite sure she bled coffee.

Thank you, Aunt Ruby...for bringing us all together again.

Just Like Mom

My mom is the busiest person I know. She puts her family and loved ones before herself, always. I've gotten in more than a few arguments with her over her never-ending list of 'to-dos' for other people...especially when she's feeling under the weather.

A few years ago when she had her gallbladder removed, she was forced to take some time off...doctor's orders, no ifs, ands or buts about it. As soon as she felt good enough to walk to the bathroom, she figured she could vacuum and dust the entire house. (Because, that's totally the same thing as getting up to pee!) I fussed with her...she said 'I know, I know' and continued on about her day. (Noting not to tell me the next time she vacuumed.)

My whole life I've been told how much I resemble my father, from my physical appearance to my accent. But today I realized, I'm exactly like my mother.

I can't sleep, no matter how sick I am, if the trash can is full, if the sink is full of dirty dishes or if the floor has not been swept.

I stayed home all day yesterday for the first time since we moved into our new home. (Feeding horses 15 minutes away from our house twice a day keeps me quite busy- but I wouldn't change it for the world.) I stayed home because I had a touch of strep/throat infection and bronchitis. My daddy refused to let me venture out into the below-freezing temperatures to feed my boys so my body could get enough rest to get well.

I watched movies with Little Miss- but suddenly couldn't focus on Cinderella because I knew the cat's litter hadn't been scooped since the previous night...somehow when I returned to the couch, I'd not only cleaned out the litterbox, but the whole bathroom, my bedroom & the playroom. I mean, I had all this time on my hands...I needed to put it to good use!

Mom, you are the only person in the entire world that I aspire to be like...even when I don't mean to. You are my hero...and I love being just like you.

Oh, North Carolina

North Carolina is full of mailboxes...
...roads less traveled...with lots of flower gardens...

...bird houses waiting for little girls to fill them with seeds...

...fun places to pretend you're a fairy-princess...

...wild grapes- that taste amazing...

...and Grandaddy's who are tall enough to pick them, and feed them to their grand kids.

...North Carolina- you're no big city of dreams...but you're everything in between.

Ponzer, NC

Storm & I (and lots of other horses and horse folk) spent all day Saturday in Ponzer, NC. What is in Ponzer, you might ask? Nothing. A gas station, appropriately named "The Store", lots of farm land, hunting camps and a little trail ride we decided to attend.

It was the 3rd Annual "Thumbs Up" trail ride- we quickly found out just before taking the trails. Our "trail boss" held her hand up, as if to do the thumbs up sign...but had no thumb. She explained that the first year they hosted the ride, she lost her thumb. Glad we're starting on a positive note, I thought to myself.

Sometimes you just have to rock out with your spurs out...

This is part of our group- waiting for our thumbless trail boss...something we did most of the ride.

One of my favorite parts of the ride was taking the horses out into the Intracoastal Waterway for a swim. Here are some of my favorite gals letting their horses cool off in the waterway.

Mandy & I- taking a self portrait while our horses were stuffing their bellies.
(Thanks for being such a great friend, Mandy! ♥ you!)

After the ride we took the horses all the way out into the waterway for a real swim. Storm & I were both drenched from our heads to our toes/hooves. It is an incredible feeling to have a horse trust you enough to take swimming- to feel him swim under your body. Only real horse people would understand the adrenaline rush you get the first time. :)

Storm's previous owners attended the trail ride, as well. They were amazed at all we (me & him) have accomplished over the last few months.

*I will post more pictures as I get them...there is one that I'm dying to see of me, Storm, Mandy & Ace in the waterway while a huge sailboat passes us.