Dear Grandmother,

Hard to believe it's now been two years since you left us.  A lot has happened.  Some good, some not.  Some things I know would disappoint you, but others I know you would be proud of.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could call you up, or come and see you, and tell you about the latest funny thing that Sarah did, or share with you how well Charlie is doing in school.  To have you share my excitement when I started my own business, or just to sit and watch a movie together.

October 2008

I will always be grateful for all the time I got to have with you.  You and I had a special connection, and that is something I take with me everywhere.  I'm even more grateful for the time that Charlie and Sarah got to spend with you, and feel a great sense of peace that they will remember you.  Not just in pictures or through stories... they remember spending time with you.

You were the most remarkable person I have ever known, and I know that nearly everyone who knew you feels the same way.  Your quiet strength, your grace under pressure, your enduring kindness and generosity... all of these made you an inspiration to many.  I know you didn't think you ever did anything extraordinary.  How many times did you tell me, "I just did what I had to do."?  But everyone who hears just an ounce of what you accomplished in your life, thinks you were amazing.  And so do I.

January, 2003

I miss you every day, but there are days when I know you are near.  Like last Christmas... we could all feel your presence that day.  I hope you got to see Charlie and Sarah singing their little Christmas songs.  They've grown so much in the last two years, Grandmother, and I know how proud you would be of how well they're both doing.  Still, I wish you were here.  I miss talking to you, I miss your sound advice on so many subjects.

As much as we miss you here, I know in my heart that you are in a better place.  I remember watching your face, and the peace that came over it as you slipped away from us.  Your gaze was so transfixed on something above us, that I have to believe there was someone there waiting for you.  I will treasure that moment just as much as every other moment I got to spend with you.  And I know too, that someday, you will be there waiting for me, with Granddaddy and Emma.

Until then, I will strive to be someone you would be proud of.  And not just because I'm your granddaughter, and you loved me.  But someone you would be proud to know, someone worthy of your respect and admiration.  I will carry you in my heart and my mind, because you were as smart as you were loving and generous.

Missing and loving you always,
Megan

Kathryn Alealia Chambers, six months old

Age sixteen

Kathryn Chambers Crouch Beilharz
March 23, 1920 ~ September 30, 2009
Always in our hearts

Remembering

Funny thing about time.  They say it heals all wounds, but I'm not sure I agree.  The passage of time may lessen the pain of loss, but I think there are some wounds that will never fully heal.  This time of year is hard for me, and I suppose it always will be.

Nine years ago today, I delivered our first baby.  Her name was Emma.  I don't have a picture of her.  I don't have her footprint or hand print, and I never got to hold her.  In fact, I chose not to even see her, a decision I sometimes regret, but am assured by those who did that it was the right decision for me.  And I believe them.  Our sweet baby Emma was born still on the first day of my 20th week, but we lost her a week or so before that.  By the time we knew for sure something was wrong, she was already gone.

It started with a routine test... that screening test that was supposed to rule out any possibility of a birth defect.  But instead, with one phone call, my world turned upside down.  The midwife told me my test came back "positive" for Trisomy 18.  She warned me not to overreact, and not to start looking things up on the internet, a warning I wished I'd heeded.  But as bad as Trisomy 18 is, what actually was wrong would have been worse.  When we went in for the ultrasound, and discovered she was gone, I had the amnio anyway, and I'm glad I did.  It told us what happened.  

A condition called Triploidy; our baby had three complete sets of chromosomes, not two.  A condition which usually results in a first trimester miscarriage, but is always fatal.  In rare instances, babies with this condition make it full term, and are even born alive, but it is a condition which is completely incompatible with life.  If there was anything to be grateful for in our situation, it was that we were not faced with a terrible decision to make.  The ordeal we went through was painful enough, and I cannot imagine coupling that with either the guilt of deciding to terminate, or the agony of continuing the pregnancy knowing what the ultimate outcome would be.

She was supposed to be born on our second wedding anniversary.  She was a surprise, but welcome nonetheless.  I remember being so excited, I couldn't help but buy a few cute little baby things, and going shopping for maternity clothes almost as soon as I found out I was pregnant.  In the back of my mind, I knew something wasn't right, but I pushed those thoughts away, thinking that every first time mom-to-be feels that way now and then.  Now I know differently.  Now I can recognize the difference between fear and intuition.

Sometimes I wonder, what if.  What if that extra set of chromosomes hadn't been there, and she'd developed perfectly normally?  I'd have an almost-nine-year-old, a 3rd grader now.  But, what if that meant we didn't have Sarah?  Clearly, that wasn't the plan.  I don't know why we had to lose Emma, but I do know we were meant to have a daughter, this daughter who is the light of my life.  And Charlie, old soul that he is, was meant to be the older brother.

Perhaps it was a lesson in humility.  Perhaps it was a reminder to appreciate all the gifts in my life.  Maybe Heaven just needed another angel... I'll never know, and I've accepted that.  Whatever the reason, and regardless of whether I held her in my arms or not, she is still my child.  I will always remember her brief existence, and hug my Charlie and Sarah a little tighter today.

Ten Years Ago...

Everyone who was alive and old enough to understand what was happening remembers where they were that day.  The date, and the details of that day are seared into our memories.

September 11, 2001.  

Just seven months earlier, I was on a beach in Mexico with my new husband.  Just a week or two before, I was on a plane, several in fact, heading to and from El Paso, Texas to visit my grandmother.  Plane trips were no big deal then, it was even fun.  Just four days before, Rob and I were up in a hot air balloon, a trip that had been postponed for over a year for one reason or another.  Looking back at those pictures, and seeing the time stamp on the bottom makes me realize how innocent we were before that day.  We will always look at any date prior to September 11, 2001 and think, "that was before our world was changed forever."

I didn't even know what was happening until after the second plane hit the tower.  I was at my desk in the sales office, which was separated from the rest of the offices in our building and for some reason, didn't have the radio on that morning.  My husband called me and asked, "Did you hear?  Two planes just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York!"  Stunned, I asked if it was an accident.  My husband said "they" weren't sure, but it didn't look like it.

There was a small television in the showroom, and that's where I found most of my coworkers.  We all watched in stunned silence as the twin towers, icons of New York City, burned.  No one knew quite what was happening.  Then the Pentagon was hit.  I was on the phone with my mother in Alabama when the first tower went down, and watched in horror as the second one collapsed a short time later.  Then the plane crash in Pennsylvania... the one that never made it to it's ultimate destination, but at the time, watching on the news, we didn't know about the bravery of the people on that plane.

In the days that followed, before air travel was resumed, the sky above our house was eerily quiet.  We live in close proximity to the airport here, and planes flying over our house was a normal daily occurrence.  But as strange as the quiet was, the noise of an airplane flying low overhead would for months bring anxiety.  Several months after the attack, we learned that the original plan was to devastate more cities, possibly including Charlotte, which is the nation's second largest banking city.  

Even now, ten years later, the pictures from that day are difficult to watch.  I've seen the 9/11 exhibit at the Smithsonian in Washington DC, a very sobering, sad and moving exhibit.  It's almost harder to watch those scenes unfold now than when it was actually happening.  We were numb from shock and disbelief then... now, we know what's coming.  

Still, I think it's important to remember.  Not only to honor those who were lost on that day, and not only to renew our sense of patriotism.  We remember to be vigilant, but not live in fear.  We remember to be present, and grateful, and thankful to be here.  We remember not only the tragedy, but the heroism, so that we can teach our children the true meaning of bravery.  

I still haven't found a way to talk to my children, who were not born yet, about what happened that day.  I know they have seen some images on the news this week, with the 10th anniversary looming.  But they haven't asked any questions, so I haven't offered any explanations.  After all, how do you explain evil to a child, who's mind is still innocent and pure?  Someday, I know I'll have to try.  

For now, I'll remember, as we all will, and try still to comprehend the incomprehensible.

A small step for some, A giant leap for ME!

Apologies to Neil Armstrong for borrowing his famous phrase and personalizing it, but it's true nonetheless.

I've taken a HUGE step into a brave new world!  Yesterday, I signed on as an Independent Consultant for Scentsy!  I'm really excited about it, and a little nervous too.  I've never done anything like this in my life.  In fact, I've often shied away from social situations where I didn't know anyone because, well, I'm shy.  Going all the way back to high school, I've struggled with speaking in front of a group.  I'm awkward in conversations with strangers, because I often can't come up with anything particularly witty or smart-sounding to say.

So to say that this new venture is a big step for me is a bit of an understatement!  Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to it.  Looking forward to getting out of my rut, looking forward to meeting new people, and excited at the prospect of earning a little extra money in the process!

Luckily, I have a great group of friends who have already shown me a ton of support, just by hitting LIKE on my Facebook page!  And if you want to LIKE it too, just click over on the left of this page.

No one ever said change was easy, and stepping out of one's comfort zone is definitely a challenge!  I'm looking forward to this particular challenge though, because I really feel this is the right fit for me.  I have several friends who are also Scentsy consultants, so I hesitated about joining simply because I didn't want to step on their toes.  But here's what I discovered in just 24 short hours... they were among the first of my friends to chime in with their support and words of encouragement, and for that, I'm ever so grateful.  And I have to give a special shout out to Kerrie Gabriel, my sponsor, who has just been super awesome!  She's right there, answering my questions, and her excitement is genuinely contagious!!

Now, off I go... so much to do!!  And stay tuned tomorrow... I'll be reveling in the joy of indulging one of my favorite obsessions!  

Friday Funnies

One thing I'll say for sure about having kids: they are an endless source of entertainment!  Even when they have pushed my patience to the limit, they can always make me laugh.

My little Sarah is a dancer.  And by that, I mean she loves to move to music... any kind of music.  She has a particular fondness for Salsa, and will bust a move just about anywhere, even in the middle of a Mexican restaurant!

Charlie likes logic.  He likes to know how things work, and he likes to try to figure it out for himself.  He also, likes to dance.

Recently, I decided to try to keep a running log of the amusing things that I've heard around my house... the things that my children uttered that were funny or clever.  Anything really, that made me smile.  Here is a sampling of what I have so far:

Backstory: As a reward for behaving at Target with Daddy, Charlie came home with a package of Gogo's (little bitty plastic strange-looking toys)... he promptly lost his favorite one, the grey one which he had nicknamed, The Dude.
Setting: Me and Sarah up in the bonus room, while Charlie is at school.  Sarah is supposed to be cleaning up toys.  All of a sudden she yells out, "Mom! I found The Dude!  Charlie's gonna be so surprised!"

Another day, Sarah has been complaining of a scratchy throat.  So she comes up to me and says, "Mom, could you get me a little something for my froat?"  To which I reply, "A little something like what?"  She pauses, and thinks about it for a few seconds, then comes back with, "um, like... how about... a SUCKER??"  Can't blame the kid for trying...

Setting: the wedding reception of two dear friends.  Charlie has been dancing up a storm all night, the life of the party!  He comes up to me and says, "Hey, Mom... did you see myself dancing?"

Setting: at home, on laundry day (meaning, I'm wearing clothes I would normally be wearing only to work out in).  Charlie looks at me and asks, "Mom, did you get those shorts at Belk?"  And I say, "No, why?"  "Cause they're the same color!"

Early in July, we took a family vacation to Florida, the highlight of which was going out to the Kennedy Space Center to watch the last launch of the shuttle Atlantis... the last launch of any shuttle ever, in fact.  The weather was threatening all morning, but finally, the skies cleared and Mother Nature smiled on us, and the launch went off without a hitch.  Shortly afterwards, it began to rain.  It was a long day, and by the time we boarded the bus back to our hotel, we were all running on nothing more than adrenaline.  We were hot, tired, hungry and thirsty.  Sarah had been whining at me about how thirsty she was, and after I gave her the last of my bottle of water, she turned to me and said, "Hey, you know what?  You know what's outside that I can drink?  Fresh water from the SKY!"  I laughed and asked her, "are you cute?"  She looked at me dead in the eyes, and in the most serious voice replied, "No, I'm RIGHT!"

A couple of days later, as we're driving around Kissimmee, Charlie observes that there are signs for Disney everywhere. He heaves a dramatic *sigh* and wishes aloud that he could go to Disney one day.  I explained to him that a trip to Disney was very expensive, and we would have to save for a while before we could do a trip like that. He says, "How much does it cost to go to Disney?"  And I reply, "For the four of us to go for a week?  About six thousand dollars."  [based on my most recent "wishful thinking" online trip planner, staying on Disney property, park-hopper passes, dining plan, etc.]  Nonchalantly, he says, "Well, you could just go on Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune and then you'd have six thousand dollars!"

If only it were that easy, my son... 

Out with the old, in with the new

Well, here it is.  My shiny new blog about... well, as the title says, a little of this and a little of that.

My old blog is still there, just in case you want to go back and take a look.  Part of the reason I quit writing there was simply the name.  I hate it.  It isn't representative of who I am, or what I'm about.  Yes, at the time, I was a stay-at-home mom, and that was my only occupation.  However, I have never, EVER considered myself a "housewife".  That's an antiquated, narrow-minded moniker to describe a woman who stays home, whether by choice or by necessity, to care for her children and home.

When you think of a "housewife", what sort of images does your brain conjure up?  A neatly dressed woman in a perfectly pressed apron, perfectly made up, not a hair out of place.  A woman who has dinner on the table when hubby arrives home from work, whose house is spotless from top to bottom.  All the laundry is washed, folded and put away, nary a stray pile to be found either in the living room or on a bed.  The children are polite and well-mannered, and never, ever speak out of turn.

I've got two out of three on that last one, and majority wins in my opinion.  But my house isn't spotless... far from it in fact (not that I'm proud of that; it's just my reality).  And if you really want the truth, I hate to cook.  I do it because I have to, not because I love it.  I wish I loved it.  It would make meal planning and preparation so much more of an adventure for me than the drudgery that it is.  As for laundry?  It is quite simply the bane of my existence.  It's never ending and exhausting.  I will freely admit to, more than once, going through an entire weeks worth of clothes without ever having removed them from the dryer.  Again, I'm not necessarily proud of that (matter of fact, that was a while ago) but it's reality.

One other particularly nauseating image that rises up when I hear the word "housewife" is the image of the doting and obedient wife.  I don't wait on my husband, nor does he expect me to.  I don't go around cleaning up after him; if his dirty unmentionables don't make it into the hamper, they don't get washed.  Period.  I've got two kids, and I don't want three.  We're both the grown-ups, equals in this relationship.  No one is subservient to the other.  True, he has been the "breadwinner" in our marriage since day one.  But that doesn't mean he's the "boss".  I do the books, I pay the bills, and I try to keep everyone on schedule.  I used to get paid for that!  I'm also not the only one who deals with the kids... my husband takes on his fare share of bathing, tooth brushing, tucking into bed, and when the occasion called for it, changing poopy diapers (thankfully, those days are behind us!)  The word "obey" was deliberately left out of our marriage vows, and quite frankly if he'd wanted that word included, we wouldn't be married.

My decision to become a homemaker (blech, don't like that one much better than housewife, but anyway...) was both a choice and a necessity; had I gone back to work after my son was born, I would have spent at least as much on childcare as I brought home!  So why on earth would I go back to work just to pay someone else to raise my child??  Nope, not me.  And I loved being home with my babies.  When they were so tiny, and every day was a first.  When their little personalities started to assert themselves, and they were so impressionable, I'm so blessed and proud that they got their guidance from me, and not a virtual stranger who may or may not share my values on child-rearing.

Now, don't get me wrong... I'm not bashing women out there who do consider themselves housewives; who love to cook and clean, and dote on their hard-working husbands.  If that's who you are and what you want to do, more power to you!  I'm just saying it's not who I am.  And it's not what I want to do.  I'm also not saying that my husband doesn't work hard.  He does.  But so do I.  

Now that my kids are older, people start asking, "what are you going to do when they're both in school?"  Honest answer?  I don't know.  I'm 35 years old, and I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

Which is why I started the blog in the first place.  To keep an account of the changes going on in my life, to have someplace to share my thoughts, feelings, even complaints and frustrations.  I am a wife, and a mother, but that's not all I am.    

So, here we are.  I'm not making any promises, and I don't know exactly where this will lead, but I hope you'll join me for the ride.