Sunday, February 26, 2012

Flowers for Mama


A trio of azaleas from my favorite trio

Matthew, Macy, and Harris brought me these flowers this afternoon while they played outside.  I love the way they enjoy bringing me these small gifts.  It reminded me that as a young child I would often bring dandelions or tiger lilies to my mother also.  She would smile and say a soft "Thank you" and she always put it in some sort of vase in the kitchen for everyone to see.  So that's exactly what I did.  I put these beauties in a small glass in the center of the kitchen table for everyone to see.  Especially for my favorite trio to see.  Because it's important for them to know that even the smallest act of kindness is appreciated.  I learned that from my own Mama. 

Every good and perfect gift is from above.  James 1:17

Saturday, February 25, 2012

An Ordinary Saturday?

Saturday...a day of rest?  Not hardly with two 7 seven year olds and a 3 year old.  We were up early (about 6:30) thanks to Harris.  He's not a late sleeper and neither is his older brother.  I suppose I should thank them both for helping me get my day started on time :) 

As we played in the yard this afternoon, my tenderhearted son presented his twin sister with an azalea flower and put it in her hair. I wish I had my camera with me. Her face lit up with a smile like no other. He knows exactly what his sister needs at the exact moment. They have an extraordinary connection that continues to melt my heart day after day. 

We had no special plans today.  It's tax season again.  Seems like this time of the year just creeps up on us.  Maybe tax season is getter longer or maybe it starts earlier, I'm not sure.  What I am sure of is that this time of year is hard.  Hard for me and hard for the kids.  Out of the blue today Matt looked over to me and said, "Mama, I don't like tax season.  I wish Daddy was here."  All I could muster was a nod and a quick, "Me too baby.  Me too." 

Now you would think that someone with the background I have would be okay with this annual event.  Having met at a CPA firm, I knew what I was getting into before I married Scott.    I do understand the hours he puts in and I appreciate all he does for us, but I miss him.  And so do our children.  So for now, we will enjoy our lazy Saturdays as a foursome and look forward to mid-April when our ordinary Saturdays include our Daddy.

To end this day, the Brownings had a slumber party.  We watched The Lion King from sleeping bags and finally fell asleep in the living room.  I took this picture to capture the ending to this wonderfully ordinary day.


Friday, February 24, 2012

A True Hero

In his 91 years, Curtis Goodwin has been such a blessing to so many.  I admire him for so many reasons, but today I find myself remembering the quiet way my grandfather contributed to this world. 
As a young man, he fought in WWII.  I chuckle as I write this because if you were to sit and talk with him, it wouldn't take long for the conversation to turn to the war.  My sister and I joke when we talk of visiting him and say that we aren't visiting north Alabama, we are visiting the South Pacific!  Maybe it's his old age, maybe it's the nostalgia for him, I'm not sure, but this man loves to talk about his service in the Army Air Corp. (He's quick to tell you that there wasn't an Air Force back then.)  He was a member of the Thirsty 13th, a troop carrier squadron.  His work was not glamorous or even noteworthy, but he served his country with heart.  I remember the first time he explained to me what "thirsty 13th" meant.  I was probably 15 or so and he was telling me again all about the war.  He stopped in mid sentence and asked, "You know what thirsty 13th means, right?"  I just laughed and replied, "I'm pretty sure it doesn't refer to milk!"  I still remember the sound of his laugh and my grandmother's giggle from the other room.  You have to understand something:  my grandfather married a preacher's daughter.  A Southern Baptist preacher's daughter.  I've never seen either of them drink alcohol.  Never.  So to have him admit that he was a member of such a group of rebels was histerical to me at age 15.

Recently, a man named Seth Washburne wrote a book about this squadron and their service.  My grandfather spent several hours talking with the author, giving him story after story and detail after detail of the squadron's daily routines, barricks, supply drops, etc.  I am so excited that someone has taken the time to document this part of my grandfather's life.  This book, The Thirsty 13th, describes in detail part of what made my grandfather the man he is today.  I ordered a copy for myself.  I plan to have my granddaddy autograph it for me.  He is a true hero. 
This is my granddaddy with Mr. Washburne, the author of The Thirsty 13th.


Thursday, February 9, 2012

Recently, I've been struck by how quickly my children are growing.  It's like I've blinked and they are no longer babies.   I am hoping that this blog will help me make sense of it all.  Make record of it all. And along the way, enjoy it all.

Like most moms, I have a sweet little way to tell my children I love them.  I have always told my oldest son, Matthew, that I love him "all the way to Pluto and back."  One particularly ordinary day, as I put this then 4 year old to bed, he simply replied, "I love you more than bubblegum".  Those words have been forever engraved in my heart.    More than bubblegum? I am so blessed.