my next thirty years

i am just as much afraid of the past as i am the future. things that are unknown scare me almost as much as things i know like the back of my hand. so hard to believe anything in a world full of lies, half truths and ...

once you realize you can't have everything the way you want it, life gets a little calmer. the sun shines a tiny bit brighter, and ... i take a tiny step away from the familiarity of the past. you know, towards that road i talked about that has all the sunshine and smooth sailing. that's the road that shows up around here with breakfast every morning. the road that rescued me from myself the other day and put a diet coke and gum in the cup holder.... just because it made me feel better. the road that thinks i am precious and beautiful and never minds meeting me for a walk.

i realize i want to be that couple i saw at the dmv the other day... the ones who i know had been together for fifty or so years... through everything life could possibly bring their way .., enjoying grandchildren and great grand children and holding hands the entire time. even in the dmv. the lady whose husband comes back for her and says "come on darlin'," when it's time to shuffle across the room. they do it together. how i long for that.

i want to make breakfast and cook dinners and sleep in the bed next to someone. i want to know that I am The. One.

i know somehow this will never be me. i don't know if i am built for that kind of longevity.

who to believe, who not to believe... if only i could find a way to clear this cloud of dust that surrounds me... so many people with so many self interests in mind...just want to find the future of my life... i am tired of it always being dark in front of me... could someone switch on the light, please?

one million tidbits all rolled into one

Ever make a list of things to post and realize each one is probably the most mindless post idea ever? well. enjoy the following.

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Sarah Beth went to her very first NASCAR event this weekend. She came home tired, sunburned, and wearing a Dale Jr. shirt. Need I say more?

Landon is wearing his Citadel onesie today (thank you Uncle Brandon). The one that when we opened it at Christmas, I was sure he would never ever wear because he would never ever be that big. Turns out, if you feed em', they grow. Amazing.

My hours at work were cut to only four days a week. It's a love / hate relationship, that place.

I am working at a Children's Consignment Sale this week. Pray that I don't kill anyone. Especially since it's at a church. Landon needs a high chair. And Mama needs a new pair of shoes.

My little cousin, Summer, calls her Daddy "Mama." There is nothing funnier on the face of the planet.

Jenn, Jackson's Mama, is having a baby girl in a couple of months. I think that makes just enough cousins to open up a daycare. Good Lord. She even had to go out and get a red minivan. Which made me realize that minivans aren't so bad afterall. No. I really didn't just say that.

I made some yummy UNfried Chicken with a recipe from my new cookbook, Family Dinners. I offered to get Jenn a copy, but then realized that since she is a self proclaimed "I don't USE measuring cups" kinda girl, realized what a ridiculous offer I had made. WHAT? A COOKBOOK? Magic like the kind in Jenn's kitchen apparently just... HAPPENS.

Yesterday in an argument with Sarah Beth, she told me I have anger issues. Which is ironic, because, I was really perfectly calm. So I said, "I am not even raising my voice at you." To which she replied, "I didn't say RIGHT NOW, I just said YOU HAVE THEM." Then I told her that she smelled. "BUT I JUST TOOK A SHOWER!" she said. "WELL. I DIDN'T SAY RIGHT NOW. BUT SOMETIMES YOU DO." I think that kind of logic works.

happily ever after.

I have been busy working on a Memory Book for an 85th birthday. The recipient, Hulda, is sweet and dear, and I love her to pieces. Having mentioned that she is turning 85, I should also mention that she lives in southern Florida, drives herself everywhere, and refuses to wear a hearing aid.... Why bother with that when you can have the television so loud even I can hear it here in Atlanta? QVC is her favorite channel (where all your Hanukkah gifts come from) and she has more clothes and handbags than you can shake a stick at; all purchased with a coupon.

Hulda is one of my favorite people on Planet Earth. Landon was recently blessed enough to settle in her arms here at work. I think the boy can sniff a Grandma out in a crowd.

So her sweet daughter in law (my boss) is sending her a little gift for her birthday... having sorted through hundreds of pictures to find only a handful to sum up Hil's (as we call her) life in pictures...



I hope I am blessed enough, at 85, to know the things Hil has known... to have held the grandbabies she has held, and to have been loved as much as she was. I hope my children grow up to think of me as wonderfully as her children think of her - and that they too love me enough to let me go without a hearing aid, just because I don't like the way they make my hair look. Seriously. Who cares if I accidentally think my son-in-law just died of a heart attack because I wasn't wearing them? Jesus. That sentence doesn't even do that whole story justice.



One day, when I am 85, I want to be cruising around the Mexican Riviera with my grown children... having asked them because they are the people I most want to spend every second with. I hope to be able to call my grandson and tell him I'm sending him the certificates I have for some kind of stock something or other with some company called AT&T. I hope to be wearing fabulous clothes and sunning myself on my patio.

Her pictures have taught me much about my life this week... where I am going, where I hope to end up, and how I want to live everyday for the rest of my eighty five years. Without worry and without regret. With the person who loved me the most beside me, and my children holding my hands the entire way. With a family.
Because, despite the heartache, the tragedies, and the mistakes, Hil has lived a life full of one thing for certain... love. I gotta find the same thing. No more wasting time. And I am certain that Hil would tell me, if I called her today, expressing my woes, to get my sweet ass in gear.... that is of course, if she could hear me over the television.

sense of purpose.

"To change a habit, the motivation has to begin with a deep and abiding sense of purpose, and your goal must fit into that big picture. So. Start by asking youself, when all is said and done, what do I feel must have happened for me to have lived a life of significance? Once you get that connection to your ultimate mission, you have the Holy Grail of change."

By Jim Loehr, author of The Power of Story:Rewrite Your Destiny in Business and Life.

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Family Guy Wisdom.

My favorite quote from The Family Guy tonight?

"You can't spell OVERREACT without OVARY. You're a girl."

Hmmm. This might explain a lot.

Of course, then there is ... "This could be more trouble than a moose on the interstate."

Which doesn't explain much, but it's funny. Right?

on being a collector

i read something interesting on another blog this morning, while sipping my coffee in the dark farmhouse... (yes, i finally learned to make coffee at home - so THERE starbucks)

"The problem is that my collection rate is greater than my archive rate."

now, mind you, the sweet lady who wrote this was probably talking about her crafting projects.

however, i find that this quote directly applies to my ... life. and my sock basket.

(do you have a sock basket in your laundry room? are we normal?)

last night a friend said to me... " i was telling you this all along... and then when it finally became YOUR idea (*um, three years later, I should mention) then you realized i was right." he was right. it took me three long years to cross something i had "collected" off my list of collections. all because i had to do it in my own time. which is never a good thing. just take a look at our sock basket.

so. herein lies the problem. well. not really a problem. more like a solution. a means to an end.

i collect.

grief.
heartache.
situations.
dust.
trouble.
bills.
dreams.
drama.
(and oh yes, socks)

i take that list of bs (and my basket of socks) and never take enough time to cross anything off. i guess it's easier to continue making the list than it is to attain any of the goals or accomplish anything related to the items on it.

right?

so. i am a collector. socks and otherwise. i think i am ready to stop my collecting.

now, i would like to find a nice way to showcase my collectibles under nice glass boxes with proper lighting (we'll call it the rachael gallery) and lock the door and move on.

all my collected items will be somewhere pretty, and i can move on the achieve section of my above quote. we can open this fine gallery of collectibles from life from time to time for others to view and learn from and ill even come back and be the head docent and say important things like, i told you so and you should listen more often than you speak.

sound good? hope so. because my coffee is gone, i neeeed a shower, and my son will soon be stirring.

have a good day. with less collecting. more achieving.

Dear Landon. Month Three.

Dear Landon.

Today you are twelve weeks old. Three months. Eighty-four days. A whole bunch of hours. A gazillion or so minutes.

The last three months have been life changing, and I am not sure where the time has gone. Seems like yesterday that I was impatiently awaiting the doctor to release you from the NICU. Now you're smiling and laughing and oh yes, sleeping all night. The latter of three being the most impressive thus far. But, the smiling is nice too.

I wish I could say we were "working out the kinks" in your schedule. But, hello, that would be a bold face lie. We're just happy when you do the same thing for forty-eight hours, much less develop a whole entire consistent schedule. Schedule? What's that? You'll hear of no such thing. I say this is a definite peek into the future... of you knowing that you will more than likely always be able to charm anyone into whatever you want. This will work to your advantage one day. Just not now. Mostly because I've been to this rodeo before, my friend.

This past month you and your daddy finally held hands. A moment I have been waiting on for forever it feels like. I couldn't trade those initial moments of introduction for any amount of money. Yeah. I love him. So much sometimes it hurts. But, we can't have everything we want (life lesson #1)... so, I am settling for friendship... for you. The one that you saved, singlehandedly. You are changing lives, everyday. You don't know it yet, but you are. A lesson in ... just laying down everything and moving forward.

Now, speaking of Him (your father) I must mention that you didn't stick with our plan of you know, giving him hard time for at least a year - since you went right ahead smiling ear to ear whenever you see him... however, that's okay... we'll save the hard time for when you're thirteen through twenty-one. And wow, like, trading a year for like, eight? Now THAT'S what I call a deal.

It's very precious to watch anyone become a parent for the first time. That you could have a part in something so great... so amazing... one day you will understand this.

I took you to visit Aunt Becca and Uncle Brandon this month. Your very first trip to Charleston. Your very first complete bath by a dog. Beau was so excited I think he wanted to change diapers himself. Of course, with no thumbs, this remains hard for him to accomplish. He settled for eight million kisses instead. Aunt Tracey babysat and Uncle Brandon took you to the "boys" section of the store. In any case, you were delightful and dined and strolled like all the other good Charlestonians do. To say the least, you um - fit RIGHT in. Could be a Citadel in your future. Mike Company, preferably. With Aunt Becca as your librarian.

The next few months will bring even more changes, I am certain. I am just lucky and blessed to know you will be a part of every one. Waited my whole life to do this thing with you? Absolutely.

in case you might be wondering.

This weekend I plan to

a. stay in my pajamas.
b. vaccum everything.
c. seriously take the rest of the christmas stuff to storage. seriously. i swear.
d. make minestrone soup (reference #1).
e. read my new books.
f. give my dog a bath (um. yes. really i will.)

g. do all of the above.

Of course, because the temperature is a balmy 11 degrees here, I have already rushed out with the rest of Georgia to buy up a year's supply of loaf bread and milk. Just in case we need to survive on milk sandwiches alone.

In other news, my brain is so fried that yesterday I had to ask my former spouse to make a decision for the girls because, HELLO, I can't think about anything else. My brain is currently on overload. This weekend, however, it plans to be on vacation.

In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of Landon, who turns three months old tomorrow.



Please. Resist. The. Urge. Calm those ovaries down.

two. roads.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Two roads. Diverged. I stood there, holding my little son, and stared. For a long time. Long. At first, I could only see one road... albeit rocky and full of potholes. There were caution lights flashing all around it. STOP. WAIT. DO NOT ENTER. Despite it's ominous appearance... something about this road was... familiar to me. I looked down and Landon. He batted his eyes and told me he trusted me. I don't know where this road will take me. Could be good, could be bad.

Then, I looked around, and noticed the Other Road. Grassy. Green. Warm. Comforting. Full of all the things a journey should hold. I guess I knew it was there all along - maybe I just didn't notice it as much before. Maybe I thought that road - the one that looks traveled and peaceful - maybe I thought things like that weren't meant for me. I looked down at Landon again. Sleeping. Trusting me to decide for him.

I tried my cell phone. Call a friend. They will know which path takes me where I want to go. Friends always have good directions. No service way out here, God said. Decide this one for youself.

I looked behind me. The road was rocky. Treacherous. But. It got me here. With Landon. Somehow, I know I'm his keeper. The one who delivered him here to change peoples lives. He's doing it already. I saw the moutains we climbed. The bridges we burned. The road in complete disrepair.

So. Here I am. The path behind me... the paths in front of me.

I stuck a foot onto the grassy, green path... the one that looked peaceful and calm. The one that has a definite, solid outcome. The sunshine felt good on my face. I have never tried this path... the normal, well-worn, everyday path... not once. A little... much.

I turned around and went back to the crossroads. Can't make this decision quickly, despite how easy the choice might seem.

Road Sign appears. A road sign I trust. More than anything.

REMEMBER GOD GAVE US HE KNOWLEDGE OF RIGHT AND WRONG, GOOD AND BAD , AND THAT GUT FEELING USUALLY IS RIGHT. AND SOMETIMES DOING THE RIGHT THING IS THE HARDEST TO DO.

What is the right thing? Isn't there a map around here somewhere? I know where I want to be... where I hope to end up.

But I am not sure which way takes me there.

Catching UP.

Oh. Hi!

In case you might be wondering what's been going on at The Farm... in case you might be wondering... the answer is - too much. Too many diapers, too many errands, too many dance rehearsals lasting until too late at night. Too many. But. We're here. Heads above water. Trying our very best to put the brakes on and enjoy the holidays. That screeching sound you hear? Yes. That would be the brakes.

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Let's start with Jordin. Remember her MRI? We had it. In the very clean and perfectly wonderful Childrens Hospital. They had to do the @(#)@( thing twice, since JLo kept moving her head around. Yay. I managed a nice nap, however, without interruption. THAT made it all worthwhile. In any case, the MRI came back clear - prayers answered.

There hasn't been a "scientific" explanation yet for her headaches, however, Mimi packs her a protein-snack everyday (you know, cheese, etc) and this seems to help. It's been weeks since we've had a headache. (insert applause here)

Of course, I think that possibly these have something to do with it.



Ahem. Perhaps if she spent more time right side up.

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Sarah Beth? Who? We lost her to text messaging a while ago. In a world where everything is abbreviated and spelled in such a way that would make Emily Post roll over four times in her grave. FOUR.

We recently got into "hair" and "makeup" and other miscellaneous girlish activities. Sheesh. I think I was happier with dirty fingernails and no shower for two days in a row. Because now, it's all "is my mascara smeared?" And dear God, do not ask her about "the boy" she likes. If you do, you might get to see her break out in a sweat, turn red, and demand to know if it was ME who TOLD YOU. The audacity.



They are two of the best sisters a boy could ask for. And, two of the best daughters a mom could ask for. Just the other day, in the middle of my tears because hello - who has the time and money to make this "motherhood" thing work - Sarah Beth looked at me and told me to "dry it up, mom - you're a single mom and this is just what you do... and you're doing a good job." I love that kid. We've even been hugging, like, everyday. Shh. She wouldn't want anyone to know.

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As for me, I am ... here. The past eleven or so months have been quite the emotional roller coaster... and the ride doesn't appear to be over yet. I am reminded by some very important people the three most important words in my heart and mind... Love. Pray. Forgive. Things we too often take for granted. I am taking small steps to repair a very broken friendship. Small steps. Sleep is a rarity I am learning an all new appreciation for and EATING? Seriously, who has time for that??



What? Landon who? Oh. The Baby. The Boy. The Grandson. Yes. Indeed. More on him tomorrow.