Hello again... 2012: a year in review.

Hello, my name is Jennifer.
I have a blog.
I got a little busy and forgot about it, for 13 months.
I am back and will try to do better.

So, what have I been doing? What has been going on that has kept me away from you? Well, let's see:

My job responsibilities went through the roof when our Sports Director at the Y quit to take a full-time teaching job at a local high school. I have been chasing my tail since last summer as we try to stay at least one week ahead of the sports chaos that never ends. Fortunately, I have a great work partner who shares the load handling all of the 'on the field' responsibilities while I handle the office/paper work.

Julia joined the 4H BB team. Learn how to shoot a BB gun, all the parts of the gun and safety & compete at meets. I became a certified coach for this BB team.
This was on top of school, soccer at the Y and joining the Book Club at school which required her to read 20 books and compete in the Helen Ruffin Reading Bowl. (Her team won the county meet and continued on to State! They didn't place, but Julia did take one round all by herself.)

My bestie moved home to Pittsburgh and left me with the title of PTO President (which I never wanted). But she brought me into her circle of friends that she has 'collected' through her travels around the country and now we all laugh and share via Facebook. These ladies are funny, smart, talented & fiercely devoted to family and friends. We share each other's burdens, slap each other out of a funk, ask parenting questions from those with kids older than our's, tell stories about neighbors or co-workers that we can't tell anyone 'local'.

I finished up my PTO responsibilities at Heard Mixon and passed on the baton to the poor suckers that decided to stay.

I turned 35.

We visited our new nephew Philip Wesley Towns III in NC.
That same weekend we saw TFK & Manafest live in concert! (we also discovered Nine Lashes at that concert, good band.)

Summer came and went with it's usual bang, but the kids were old enough this year to hang at the camp some and even work a little in the canteen. They preferred, however, to spend as much time as possible at Grandma's house and play with their cousins.

Julia spent almost as much time away from home as not this summer! Soccer Camp, Church Camp, Wildlife Camp, Camping with Grandparents, long weekend at my sister's.

Connor attended his first Boy Scout Summer Camp - 4 days, 3 nights - by himself.

We made several weekend camping trips with the kids to state parks. We tent camp and cook our own food over the fire. The kids love it! We have been to Fort McAllister, Tallulah Gorge (adult only trip), Tugaloo State Park, Lee State Park (with Leroy and Ryan for the Tough Mudder weekend).

TOUGH MUDDER!!! Russel & I completed our first TM October 27th in South Carolina. If you don't know what this is go to their website and check it out: Tough Mudder  We did a lot of training before the race building up our strength and stamina. It paid off because we did a lot better than we expected to, although I had bruises that didn't go away for about 6 weeks, and Russel had to deal with bruised ribs from falling off a 12 foot Berlin Wall.

Saw our niece Samantha get married.

Sent our nephew Zach off to college. (Julia has had a hard time with this. They are pretty close.)

Welcomed our first great-nephew Edward Clark Lang into the world.

My baby girl started middle school & joined the youth group at church. (this makes me feel old!)

DISNEY CRUISE!!!! This was our family vacation for 2012. Four night cruise aboard the Disney Dream. Amazing. Can't wait to go again!

And I read 23 books, a short story and a poem.

What doesn't kill us....

I think it is safe to say that 2010 started off pretty crappy and quickly went downhill before finally rebounding in September and ending (soon) on a pretty decent note.

January: my dog died. unexpectedly. violently. and I was the one who found her.

March: my Papa died. expected. peacefully with a romantic twist. but difficult to watch my dad grieve and deal with jerks for family.

May: my Grandma died. expected. peacefully in her sleep. but too soon after I finally began to understand her. relate to her. proud to be like her. and painful because my Daddy was again hit with loss and had to deal with the ugly truth about his brothers.

May through August: Russel is sucked into camp life just as I really need some stability and support. but extended family came to the rescue.

September: the turning point. Skydiving. adrenaline rush. a kick in the "bum" to appreciate life and a reminder that we have to live it. and the libido boost didn't hurt either.

October: realized how much weight I gained over the past year, but not really motivated enough to do something about it.

November: normally by this time of year I am listening to Christmas music and have checked off several names on my shopping list, but I still am not really into it yet (in December).

Now: I can still feel the "funk cloud" around. but I am going to kick its "bum". I have committed to one too many things recently because the idea of them made me excited, but I am determined to see them through. I am more in love with my husband now than ever before. looking forward to our annual anniversary trip. despite knowing that I need to lose weight (mainly for health reasons although my doctors don't seem worried yet) I am becoming more comfortable with my body (for which my husband is very appreciative). and I am still pressing on. determined. confident I will win. 

A Georgia Peach learns how to make Sweet Tea.

I was skipping through the Covington News website when I stumbled upon an article that not only made me laugh, but I identified with. The woman describes herself as "Not from Here" (even though she was raised in Alabama, her momma n' them were from New Jersey) and wasn't raised on our sweet elixir, but confesses that she has fallen in love with our traditional beverage: Sweet Tea.

I, however, was born and raised in Georgia. In fact, I am a 7th generation Georgia Peach on my Daddy's side. But when it came to the cooking in my childhood home, my Momma's Northern ancestors were a strong influence on how we prepared certain things. It wasn't until my sixteenth year, however, that I learned we didn't make real Southern Sweet Tea. (um, what?) It only took one sip of my now mother-in-law's nectar to open my eyes to what real Southern Sweet Tea tasted like. And it wasn't until a few years after that enlightening experience, watching her create that heaven-sent yumminess, that I understood how even the slightest modification to the process could change an elixir fit for the gods into nothing more than a flavored beverage. (I will confess here that we did a lot of steps wrong in the process, as you will see, but for the sake of the metaphor work with me.)

I grew up making "sweet tea" from Lipton Instant Iced Tea (gasps!) and artificial sweetener (the horror!) in cold water (well, I never!). How was I supposed to know that true Southern Sweet Tea could only be made by steeping the tea bags in just boiled water in a pot on the stove, dissolving the sugar in the still hot liquid, and leaving it to sit for a while before serving over a glass of ice?!? That's just not how I was taught. But believe me.... the product is worth the work. I had always wondered why just adding sugar to the "iced tea" (read unsweetened) they served in fancy restaurants never tasted right. It's because the sugar won't dissolve properly in cold water genius!

It was a true moment of revelation!

So, if you are "Not from Here" and are ever in a fancy restaurant that doesn't serve the best beverage that the South has to offer (and believe it or not there are some in the South like this, though for the life of me I don't see how they stay open) do not be surprised if a true Southerner in your party looks aghast. And please, whatever you do... do not tell them to just add some sugar to it. It is not the same. And you will receive a look from them that says either: "Bless your heart, you're not from here are you?" or "The Hell you say!"

Relentless

It has been a while since I was really moved by a book. Truly inspired. Made to look inside and contemplate everything I thought I was and believed.

Here are some words to get you thinking:

Murder (dictionary.com)

–noun

Law. The killing of another human being under conditions specifically covered in law. In the U.S., special statutory definitions include murder committed with malice aforethought, characterized by deliberation or premeditation or occurring during the commission of another serious crime, as robbery or arson (first-degree murder), and murder by intent but without deliberation or premeditation (second-degree murder).

–verb

to kill or slaughter inhumanly or barbarously.

Kill –verb (dictionary.com)

to deprive of life in any manner; cause the death of; slay

Anger –noun

a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire.

Wrath -noun

1. angry, violent, or stern indignation

2. divine vengeance or retribution

Now some quotes to catch you up:

“Anger is the father of violence, as well I knew, but I had not allowed myself to consider that wrath, when it is the product of pure indignation and untainted by ideology, is the father of justice and a necessary answer to evil.” – Dean Koontz, Relentless pg 178

“The true commandment is ‘Thou shalt not murder.’ It doesn’t say ‘kill’ in the original language, because killing’s a whole different thing from murder. Furthermore, Moses didn’t provide categories of murder, some worse than others.” – Dean Koontz, Relentless pg 341

“Evil itself may be relentless, I will grant you that, but love is relentless, too. Friendship is a relentless force. Family is a relentless force. Faith is a relentless force. The human spirit is relentless, and the human heart outlasts – and can defeat – even the most relentless force of all, which is time.” – Dean Koontz, Relentless pg 428

Exodus 20:13 “You shall not murder.” (NIV translation) Commandment #6

So.....

What would you do and how far would you go to protect the people you love the most?

As Christians that can be a tricky question.

We know our commandments; number 6 says "You shall not murder" (Ex 20:13 NIV).

We have been taught to "turn the other cheek" (Matt 5:39 NIV).

"Avenge not yourselves.....Vengeance is mine" says the Lord (Romans 12:19 KJV).

We believe that no matter what our God is in control.

But there are also numerous passages in the Bible where the Lord commands His people to exact His vengeance on His enemies.

So what are we supposed to do when Evil comes knocking at our door with no other intent than to steal our joy, kill those we love, and destroy everything we believe in, hope for and want the most in this world? Are we supposed to remain meek, happy in the knowledge that we are going on to a better place? Or do we pick up our .38 and shoot the bastard in the head?

I would not classify myself as a violent person. I don't really like confrontation and would never pick a fight. I'm pretty laid back about most things, but I'm making it public here: this momma's packin' heat, and you enter at your own risk if you even think about hurting one of mine.

Where do you stand?

Yes, I am a Soccer Mom

At the urging of Julia's preschool teachers, we signed her up for ballet when she was three to help her physical development catch up with her intellectual prowess. But, that didn't really stick, so the next year we signed her and her brother up for soccer at the Y. And as they say..... the rest is history.

I have officially joined the Soccer Mom club. We always have folding chairs, a big golf umbrella, and bug spray in the back of our SUV. From time to time there is a soccer ball magnet on the back of my truck, and we have just completed our second summer of soccer camp complete with international coaches. My daughter takes a book and a size 1 (little-bitty training size) soccer ball everywhere she goes. I have been watching the World Cup on ESPN, and can understand most of the penalties that are called in the games. I can even brag and say that Russel and I had the only undefeated team when we coached Connor's under-six team. (that's 4 & 5 year olds) Go Eagles!

Connor no longer plays soccer, choosing instead to play baseball. But Julia has moved up in the soccer world and is now about to start her second year in the Academy league. (Under 13 travel ball for those of you who are outside the soccer world.) She loves it, so we sacrifice two nights a week and most of our weekends in the Fall and Spring. And don't forget the hefty price increase.

And I think that is the true definition of a Soccer Mom. The parent who is willing to sacrifice time, money, sleep & the occasional sun burn to give her child the opportunity to be part of a team playing a sport she loves.

Boy vs. Water

At the beginning of the summer, my son was afraid of the water. He knew he couldn't swim. So, when we went to the pool during the first week of June, he wouldn't come out of his life vest unless his father or I had a tight grasp on him. And don't even think about the diving board.

But for the past four weeks we have spent every afternoon at the pool at the YMCA taking swim lessons. Everyday I sat there in a little patch of shade trying to avoid sunburn and sweating like an Englishman in the desert.

Every week, my little man's confidence grew along with his skills. Having some free-play time before and after his lessons really helped too. Trying to show up the other kids by doing handstands, flips and cannonballs can boost any kids confidence, you know.

But no matter how hard he tried or how fast he kicked, every time his instructor let go of him, his little bum would sink like the Titanic, and he would end up desperately treading water until he remembered he could touch the bottom.

But one day during the third week of lessons, something clicked. It was his turn to push off the wall and swim to his instructor. He sighed, whined about how far away she was, then the amazing happened. He pushed off, kicked with out bending his knees, and zoom! He was off! He reached his instructor in no time and was very surprised when he looked up and realized what he had done. After that there was no stopping my little buddy. And the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae...... he passed the swim test on his final day of lessons. My little guy swam the entire length of the pool, with no help, without stopping or touching the bottom of the pool. And he proudly wore his orange wristband as he played in the shallow end of the pool with all the confidence of a kid twice his size.

The Secret Life of a Camp Wife

Hi. My name is Jennifer, and I am a Camp Wife.

Hi Jennifer!



Some days I really wish there was a support group for spouses in my position. My husband has a great job that provides us with an amazing place to live and raise our kids, great insurance and benefits, nice perks and wonderful friends, but in the summer I might as well be single.

My husband works from 7:45am to midnight or later from Sunday afternoon to Friday evening. True, we can go to the camp and hang out whenever we want, but we can never have him to ourselves. There is always something happening or someone who needs him for something. He isn't even guaranteed peace to finish a meal some days.

I am very proud that he has worked his way from grass crew to assistant director. I can never brag enough that he has helped double/triple/quadruple the number of people that come to the camp, or that he has helped transform the camp's summer program from an antiquated 1950's style program into a premier leadership camp of the 21st century.

However, because of the time commitment that is required of Russel, the kids and I can very easily feel left out and abandoned. And over the years I have unconsciously created some coping mechanisms....(green are good ones, red....not so much)

emotional distance -- even before the summer starts, I can feel myself pulling away, cocooning myself in preparation for the summer hibernation. I will withdraw into books, TV shows, whatever, to not have to face the fact that the camp will steal my best friend.
overbooking -- during the summer, especially now that the kids are older, I find something for us to do. This summer it was four consecutive weeks of swim lessons, soccer camp, church camp for Julia and camping with the grandparents. For me it is work, work, work. Carpool. Showers Every Night. with no time to go grocery shopping (not that we need a whole lot, but still.... deodorant is important. I can't have my husband smelling gamey at work.)
dry-erase markers -- our new best friends are the dry-erase markers! We discovered a few years ago that (DUH!) you can write on your mirrors with dry-erase markers and it comes right off with no problem. Granted, after a few layers you have to wash with some Windex, but that's not a big deal. Now I can keep my prayer list right in front of my face to help me remember, start a shopping list as items run low, and write love notes to my absent husband and mysteriously get notes back in the morning! (OK, so that was a little melodramatic. Sometimes I am still awake when he gets in and we get to snuggle before I start snoring. And most mornings I have to get up before he leaves to get ready for work.)
the notebook -- one year, before dry-erase markers, we kept a notebook by the bed. If there was something on my mind that I was afraid I would forget to tell him, or knew that I wouldn't get a chance to be alone with him for a while, I would write it in the notebook and leave it on his pillow. Then when he got a chance he would write back. This one wasn't near as effective as the markers, but a good idea. And now that both kids can read, somethings are better left where little eyes can't see.....so, we might be pulling the notebook back out in the future.

So, thanks for listening. I'll be back next week.
(polite applause and everyone heads to the snack table)

Jaded & Bittersweet

So, I had a mini-meltdown in church today. Had to go to the bathroom because I didn't have any tissues in my purse and then refrain from bringing out a roll of toilet paper with me to wipe my snot and tears.
This flood of emotions hit me from my blind spot like a mac truck on the interstate, but I can tell you now how it found me..... (this is your 'get a tissue' warning)
I know families are not supposed to have favorites. We are supposed to love all our kin equally, right? That's a lie. We are human and we are flawed and selfish with our own likes and dislikes. Some people we get along with and some we don't. Well, I've always considered myself to be more like my mother's side of the family than my dad's. They were/are sweet, kind, generous, loving, non-judgemental..... all the things families are supposed to be. And I was one of them, a Bearss/Bennett. Directly. By blood. The other side was fun when I was little, with the fishing trips and yard sales. But as I got older, I started to see the manipulation, guilt trips and favoritism creep in to my world. One of the other grandkids was always better at something than you were. You never came to visit enough like they did. If you didn't eat something that Grandma had made, you were intentionally trying to hurt her feelings. You get the idea...... And when I was old enough to be able to decide for myself when I would visit, the visits became fewer and far between.
But now that my dad's parents are living in my parents' house, I have been forced to spend more time with them and have come to notice things about them and myself that I hadn't before. Or maybe that I hadn't wanted to see before.
Like how Grandma and I eat our breakfast exactly the same: crumble the bacon over the grits and the eggs and eat them all together. How Grandma and I both have to clean the crumbs off the table around us after we are done eating. Lots of little nuances and quirks that are the same but aren't glaringly obvious until you spend a lot of time with that person.
So, I have been forced to see that despite how hard I have denied being a Hampton/Almond in the past, I AM one of them too. Directly. By blood. And you can't run away from that.
(Yes, I know that this self-denial falls into the judgemental and favoritism categories that I was denouncing before, and I do catch the irony of it, so don't rub it in. This is where the mini-meltdown part of my day comes in.)
This weekend I got to see a whole new side of my Papa. The mean, hurtful, bully side. And while at first I was just seriously pissed off that he had emotionally tortured my mother, I later started wondering..... is he just getting crazy in his old age (90), or is this who he really is? Has he been putting on a show for all these years and has just now gotten where he doesn't care to hide any more?? Is this one of those personality traits that has been passed on to me and so far I have been successful in keeping it locked up inside me? This was the thought that scared me the most. That one day I would become like him, how he was this weekend.
I was sitting in church during worship with all these thoughts swirling around in my head when the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face and I had to go outside because I could feel the sobs coming. And as I stood outside staring at the pastures across the street from our church, trying to pull myself together so I could go back inside, I heard the Lord say to me: You are not their child. You are Mine. You will become who I am if you will trust Me and follow Me. You don't have to give in to your DNA, because I have adopted you and made you My own. Of course this made the tears flow even more, but also gave me a peace that I hadn't felt for some time.
So, now I have to choose to love the parts of my grandfather that are like my heavenly father and forgive the parts that are not. (crap.)
But doing this will make me more like the God who saved me from myself. And that's the person I want to be. The person He sees. Not the person I think I am or am afraid I will become.

Rose Colored Glasses

aaaahhhh youth. The bliss that comes from ignorance. No stress. No worries. (Other than who's your favorite New Kid on the Block, and what color scrunchy am I going to wear in my hair?) Growing up means more independence and more responsibility, which are welcomed; but it also comes with the loss of your innocence as knowledge is gained. You have to put your rose-colored glasses on the shelf and see the world in living color.
As children, most of us preferred to see our parents and grandparents as indestructible and all-knowing. They were living encyclopedias and history books, and no matter what, they could and would do anything for us. Time, however, marches on and takes with it the youthful energy of our parents and gives us the ability to see that they are mere mortals who will eventually succumb to the same fate as the rest of humanity. They will grow old. They will get sick. And, eventually, you will be the one changing their diapers and cooking their three meals a day.

Last week I spent my mornings helping my dad. His new full-time job is caretaker, nurse, pharmacists, cook, janitor, accountant, chauffeur, and general "do boy" for his parents. They are 90 and 89 years old and have had to move into my childhood home with my parents after additions and remodeling to make it handicap accessible. My mother was looking forward to retiring soon, but now...... And I have had to watch my parents age faster than they should while shouldering the burden of caring for the frail and dying, the blind and lame, the stubborn and memory impaired.
My sister and I have also been the open ear on which our parents can vent their frustrations, fears, anxieties, and hurts over the past several months. And with this new responsibility we have been introduced to the other side. The side that knows how manipulative, selfish and vindictive some family members are.... The side that is thankful we never had to borrow money from them..... The side that has to try to balance the wishes of both parents although they contradict one another...... The side that is being driven mad by the once-loved quirks of a family member.... The side of life that gives you gray hair and migraines, ulcers and murderous thoughts.
Despite the stress and often raw nerves that come with this type of role reversal, we are treasuring the time we get to spend with my grandparents..... hearing stories that had not been told.... seeing them enjoy my children.... knowing my children are learning valuable lessons about how families take care of each other..... getting a "head's up" on how my dad could possibly turn out.....
I didn't understand until now how people could feel relief after the death of a family member. But after having to take care of my grandparents for only a few hours a day, and being witness to and a victim of the black-hole that is now consuming the lives of my parents, I know our family will feel a huge weight lift after my grandparents pass. We will miss them. We love them. But we will cry "Freedom!" when they go to be with the Father. And that time can be a joyous time because we know we will see them again. There is hardly a day that goes by when I don't think of 'what Grandmother would say' or 'Granddaddy would love to see my kids do that' or 'Aunt Deloris would be so proud of my daughter'..... but I know they see us and are eagerly waiting for us. And I will soon add Grandma and Papa to that group of people who "I wish were here to witness this...." but in the interim we will keep on making coffee, washing soiled linens, wiping bums, and dolling out meds while laughing at funny stories and how many times I can have the same conversation with Grandma:
"Is Russel at work?"
"Yes, Grandma. It's summertime, and the camp is full."
"Ooooh, I bet you love eating down there. The food is so good. And you don't have to cook or clean......"
"Yes, mam. I am spoiled."
(I lean over, look at my mother and mouth "That's one.")

"Dude!"

Why do we use the words & phrases we do? When did I start saying something that now I don't even know where it came from?

This is something I've been thinking about ever since my friend Jennifer started laughing when I said "Dude!" to somebody. She said she always thought of me when she heard some one say that. So, I tried to think of when I first started using that word, and for the life of me I don't have a clue! I've never been to California; don't surf or skateboard; not really one to hang out with the laid-back, pass the special brownies because I'm craving some munchies crowd..... so where did I pick up "Dude!"? Who knows?!

I realize that I call my son "Buddy" because my Papa always called me his "fishing buddy" when I was little. And I sometimes call my daughter "Baby" because my dad's nickname for me was (no, is) "Angel Baby," and he calls my mom "Baby" all the time. But then, there are the other nicknames we have for our kids that, well, I just don't know. "The Boy": my only guess is that we were so used to having a little girl, that when he came along and did something only boys do, the only way to explain it was to say, "It was The Boy." And we've had numerous names for our daughter: "Baby," "Squirt," "Girlie," "Little J" (her name starts with a J too)..... but where they came from? Couldn't tell ya!

And to be completely honest.... I may have been born and raised in the South, but I say "you guys" more often than "y'all." And as a joke I started calling carbonated beverages "sodas" instead of what every true Southerner calls them: "Coke." And now, it has stuck.

So, dude, I'll leave you with this: Grab a soda and a fishing pole and we'll go down to the crick and catch up on what you guys have been doin'.

Facebook Fun

So this is one of those "chain letter" deals going around Facebook, but since they didn't say anything about horrible things befalling anyone who didn't pass it on, I decided it would be fun to play. It's called "25 things...." and the directions are below:

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. Remember to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

(To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.)

1. I admit it, I'm a nerd. But not the socially awkward kind, just the nose always stuck in a book, likes to learn new things, loves sci-fi movies & comic book heroes (hello, look at the profile pic), was in special classes for super-smart sponge-for-brains types... oh, wait, this is a little socially awkward, isn't it?

2. I was a cheerleader for five years in middle school and high school. Loved it! wouldn't trade it for anything.... that's where I met my super awesome friend Deborah. And I will admit, that if I had the same body I did when I was 16, I would get back in a uniform tomorrow and cheer with the teeny-boppers!

3. I went to college. Got a degree. Still paying back the government for the loan for said degree. Not using the degree. Don't really want to use the degree. But loved the classes (correction, most of the classes) I had to take to get the degree. Yep, probably should have listened to my mother. There, I admitted it. Are you happy?

4. I married the first and only guy I dated. We met when I was 15 and he was 16.We were each other's first everything (b/c you can't really count spin the bottle & truth or dare, right?). We've been married for 11 years and are looking forward to at least another 69 more.

5. I had a staph infection when I was only a few months old. Could have died. Still have the scar on my foot from the drainage tube they had to put in. (that’s the part where you go “eeewwww”)

6. When I was little, I sooooo wanted to be an astronaut. I had it all planned out: Air Force fighter pilot, just like in “Top Gun” and then on to NASA to pilot the space shuttle, loved the movie “Space Camp”. That was before I knew you had to have 20/20 vision to do anything more than scrape bird poo off the windshields or fix the engines. And since I thought my dad spoke Greek every time he talked about the car……

7. I had baby number one naturally and with no meds I might add. I wanted to have baby number two naturally, but the doctor had another plan…. He said the baby had to come out early, wasn’t growing fast enough. So they induced labor about 2 ½ weeks early. And let me say that pitocin is an EVIL drug and I should have asked for pain meds a lot earlier! By the time they kicked in the baby boy was out!

8. When I grow up, I want to be a ballroom dancer. If I could go back and talk to my younger self, I would tell her to stick with ballet and take lots of different dance classes.

9. I have suffered from migraines since I was 26. It’s genetic and hormone related. (Thanks mom!) But my doctor has told me a few things to do that help, and I make sure to stay away from diet sodas.

10. Most nights my husband and I crawl into bed and…… don’t go there, this isn’t about that. Shame on you. We “argue” about whose fault it is the sheets are so messed up. He says I steal them in the middle of the night, that’s why they always end up on my side. I say it’s his fault because he won’t keep his corner tucked in. He has to stick his foot out for some “air” while he’s sleeping you see. So therefore the sheets will naturally migrate towards the anchored side. We have no way of settling this, so we giggle, fix the sheets and ….. well, now it is about that. J

11. I’m a really organized person. One of my favorite weekend chores growing up was reorganizing the hall closets. Really, you can ask my mom. But, I seem to be having quite a bit of difficulty getting my kids to buy into the concept. And I’ve decided that I don’t have the energy to do it myself, and I just don’t want to spend all my time fussing at them about cleaning up when we could be laughing and playing. So, we live in an organized mess of a home that is very happy.

12. I love to quote movies. “Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash.” (When Harry Met Sally) and yes, my children are doing it too. We have our own special language.

13. I have to make myself not take over when the kids have a project for school. I love doing crafts, and I have to tell myself that it’s their project and Mommy can only supervise, not be a contract laborer.

14. I secretly want to be on “What Not to Wear” just to meet Stacey and Clinton and go shopping in NY. I know how to dress like I should, I just don’t always do it. I just can’t seem to break the t-shirt and jeans habit!

15. I am allergic to a lot of stuff: penicillin, neomycin (that’s the stuff in Neosporin…no, really, read the ingredients), aspartame (the stuff in diet sodas, thus explaining the big rear-end), dust, pollen, pet dander (especially cats), feathers, stupid or just gross comedy, the sun. Well, technically that last one’s not true, but I do burn like an ant under a magnifying glass.

16. I just couldn’t bring my-self to say the word “butt” to my kids, so at our house we have “bums”….. blame it on all the British Lit classes I took in college.

17. I sometimes wish I was still a “stay-at-home mom.” But seeing the debt go down and the savings go up, I can’t really give up the money or the perks I get from working.

18. I love shopping. Especially for cute shoes and jewelry – quirky, different, antique-looking. My inner child always says “Ooooh. Shiny!”

19. I really miss camping with my grandparents in South Carolina and fishing with my Papa.

20. I want to get braces, lasix and my teeth whitened because yes, I am vain like that. And do you have any idea how much money I spend on contacts and glasses!? It’s only going to get worse you know. Bi-focals, then Tri-focals, and once you get there you can’t wear contacts anymore and the whole vanity thing comes back around to kick you in the bum!

21. One of the people I miss the most is my great aunt Deloris, the “old goat”. She taught me how to cross-stitch, encouraged my love for reading, made you eat whatever you put on your plate, and was one of the strongest, most independent and loving women I have ever known.

22. I would love to be in a rock band. But seeing how I’ve tried to learn the piano and the violin to no avail, (I’ve decided my left hand is only here to make me look normal) and I can only stay on key with someone to pitch off of….. well, I think I’m better suited as a roadie or back-up dancer.

23. I really like clipping out coupons and the idea of getting a great bargain on groceries, but I can never seem to remember to take the coupons to the store. Why can’t they just find a way to link the coupons to your store’s advantage card? I mean really, weren’t we supposed to be flying in space ships or hover crafts by now anyway?!

24. I regret all the friends I have let slip away over the years.

25. If you’ve kept reading until this point, you probably have surmised that I often use humor to deflect off the truth and pain of many things. I really know how to look confident, even imposing to some, but inside is an awkward wall flower waiting to be asked to dance.

Why I Love & Need My Husband....

In response to my previous post, my husband (who is definately the stable one in the relationship) sent me this email. I share it here because
1. I want to brag to the world that I have the best man out there
2. they are wise words for anyone who is struggling with the question "Who am I and where am I going?"

So now, a word from R:

Just in case you needed to be reminded:

You are Jennifer Hampton Towns.

You are a child of God. Your life has great importance to Him, so much that He gave everything to adopt you as His own. He has seen your next steps, and if you remain in Him, He will take you there. You are a dangerous person when you read the Word of God on a regular basis.

You are the wife of Russel Towns. You are a steady hand in a marriage that stands apart. You support and encourage him at every turn, and he will do the same for you. Two things are rock solid – God is your salvation, and Russel is your husband.

You are the mother of Julia and Connor – two very smart and well behaved children. They will grow up knowing that their mother loved them and cared for them unconditionally. The nurturing and the tough love are creating a balance in them. They are created from you, as seen in their beauty, and their lives will be forever intertwined with yours.

You are the daughter of Joe and Diane Hampton. They taught you wonderful things about life and parenting. Judging by how you turned out, they did a pretty good job!

You are the anchor of a home – keeping the house in order by handling the daily operations such as groceries, homework, schedules, shopping, and bills. Your home is your first ministry, and God blesses those who are faithful in ministry.

You are a great asset to the YMCA. It is a job, and it is a means by which God has chosen to provide the finances you need without being stressed at every bill. What a blessing it is that you have a job during this time, and one that allows the schedule that you need.

Where you have been is merely preparation for now. Your college degree, your business, and the difficult church situations we have been through – these are not wasted moments. They are stepping stones on a path of your life; they are not rungs of a broken ladder. You have a wonderful future, and you are probably right, it is likely filled with things you didn't know you wanted. We don't search for one thing in our future that will define us, but we live through many experiences that grow us and direct us. Life is a collage of experiences that we need to sew together with a common thread – that we were doing our best to follow Christ during them.

I have a Blog. Now what?

Ok, so I have my very own blog. Now what?

I guess this endeavor is my way of trying to find out who I am and where I want to go. After years in the Mommy Trenches doing the Diaper Dash and Carpool Shuffle, I now have two grade schoolers and a part-time job. Too much time on my hands to be classified as "workaholic" and not enough time to be considered "stay-at-home." So, I am somewhere in the modern day woman's purgatory trying to carve out my own identity, while juggling so many hats I could get a job in the circus.

When trying to figure out where you want to go and who you want to become, it is always good to look back and see where you have been, like it or not, and try to learn something from your past experiences or at least come to terms with them. So here is a little about me and my adult years to date.

I love stories, whether in the form of book or movie or weekly TV show. My degree is proof of that. I have a bachelors from UGA in English Education. I can churn out a paper on almost any given topic with ease. I devour books like my husband does chocolate. And my new best friend, the DVR, works harder than an ant in a rain storm. It is the latter half of that degree where my aspirations were misguided. Running head-first into the education system with blinders on because I really wanted to coach cheerleading, I figured High School English was the best subject area for me to enter. College Chemistry 101 weeded me after the first test, and the only reason I passed high school Calculus was the constant tutoring by one of my best friends, Amy. My sister got the art gene. I always fell asleep in history class. There is no way I could stomach the B.O. to teach P.E., and masses of small children made me run away screaming.

It only took one year of teaching, however, to realize that I should have thought a little longer and harder when my mother asked me, "Are you sure you want to be in the classroom?" She has worked in high school offices as a secretary since I was in elementary school. But I was thinking, "Of course I know what I want to do. I'm all grown up and out on my own. What could you possibly know about being in a classroom that I don't?" .........aaaahhhhhh, the ignorant bliss of youth.

The very convenient excuse of getting pregnant and wanting to stay at home to raise the baby (traditional roles were making a big comeback at the time) gave me an easy out without having to admit that I hated the choice I made and felt that I really couldn't hack it anyway. Although, in my own defense, I think some of the blame for my lack of confidence in the classroom lies with the school, which I will be nice and not name, and my 'oh, was I supposed to be talking to you?' mentor.

My next chapter can be titled "The Baby Years." I stayed home with my beautiful little girl and got to make a little money in the process by keeping a friend's baby only five weeks younger than my baby. They are now almost inseparable after eight years. I got a break when they went to preschool, but then little brother was born, and the best friend's little sister six months later. This led to numerous play dates, field trips, and did I mention that I started a business?

I think it was too much HGTV that led to the idea of starting a Professional Organizing business. But it was a lot of prayer and encouragement from my husband that solidified the decision to go for it. So, Order Restored was born, and I was a small business owner. I put up a website & networked like crazy. Got a few clients, made a little money, had a blast, and then as a precursor to the economy tanking, all my prospective clients disappeared. I got a few nibbles, but nobody could afford to splurge on a beautifully organized closet, much less a room. After some prayer and a few tears, I realized that it really is ok to put this chapter on the shelf for now.

So, here I am. In a part-time job at the local YMCA that pays well enough and has some good perks. After working my way up from answering the phone, taking registrations, and selling memberships, I am now in the background as the Office Manager, doing bank deposits, revenue reports, coding bills to send downtown, and assisting the director with anything and everything. Not much to do with literature is there? But I do get to run a cheerleading program, albeit with cute little giggly girls, not high school athletes. At least I don't have to grade 200 research papers in a week!

Where to from here? Not a clue. But if you are willing to go for a little walk with me, we can have a good time and maybe learn something along the way. Who knows? I might just end up where I never knew I wanted to be.