As I have driven around our city these past few weeks, I am faced with the harsh reality of buildings completely being demolished - one by one, a new one is gone each day. A slab remains, in the middle of a neighborhood full of houses. Next door, a home is "for sale by owner", stripped to nothing. Others are masked with FEMA trailers in front. Some are home to an RV in the driveway.
My heart was ripped open one morning as I passed a house, fully gutted, but not yet cleaned up. The for sale sign in front had a tag-line on top saying "Build Me Back". As if it were making a plea to anyone who would notice - build me back, so I can be wonderful again.
It's November. School started in August - yes, the flood worked a number on everybody's 2016, but we have made adjustments. And as blessed as we are to remain in our home, we have done our best to get into new routines and stick to it. 3 Months in, and I barely feel like I can get a grasp on this new "schedule." Bk3 starting Kindergarten goes down in the books as a whirlwind, schedule changing, sleep stealing adjustment for this mama here, and each day is a new adventure. I'm learning that this here, is the new norm. Buckle up, ready or not! Right?
I cut a few hours off of my weekly class schedule in the evenings, in order to open up a little bit more time with the boys after school. I'm thankful to be able to ask Bk3 "How was your day today?" on Mondays & Tuesdays, check his folder, and smile with excitement when he shows me the things he worked on those days. Wednesdays & Thursdays, I drop him off at morning carpool, and since I don't get home until 10 p.m. those nights, I won't see him again until the next morning. The days seem like rat races, starting with 5:30 am alarms, packing lunches, getting everyone to wake up, eat, get dressed, packed up, off to school, back home to clean, do dishes, cook dinner (at 10 am), do office work, manage animals, laundry, house chores, groceries, more dishes, prepare class material, emails, carpools, drop kids with the sitter, and then off to work trying to hold my eyes open - knowing I now get to be mama to a whole new animal, GIRLS. I slowly climb up the stairs at 10 p.m., eat, do MORE dishes, prepare the coffee pot, enjoy a glass of wine (if I'm lucky) and go to bed by 11:00 (again, if I'm lucky).
I pray more than ever. The time in the day ticks away, and as I count task after task off the list, I notice how adding new tasks (even if only in my mind) builds the anxiety level to no end. Impatience takes over, and all it takes is Briggs saying "you're being a mean mommy!" to make me go off and immediately regret the stress filled rant on a 4 year old. I take a second, and think "God, please build me back." The great thing is, no matter how many times you ask, He does.
Tuesday morning, at 7:10, like always, I told the boys to head downstairs and I'd be down in a few minutes. Yes, a lot can happen in a few minutes at the Webb house when it involves the boys going downstairs unsupervised. We can go ahead and check off escapes to the barn, peeing ourselves, fist fights over which car door we'll open, and Grayson successfully starting my car and putting it into reverse from the list of various crazy moments. This particular morning, I realized the chicken coop door was left open. So I got downstairs to 17 chickens, 3 boys mowing through chicken & dog shit, the two dogs, all parading together in the yard, like Nola Mardi Gras 2017. We were already 1 minute behind schedule, and I knew it was best for me to then surrender. Thankfully, I got everyone into the car, and through each respective carpool line on time that day. Of course though, not without Grayson dumping out his entire bowl of frosted flakes in his lap before the car door was opened for him to get on with his day. God so graciously gave me the gift of laughter at that moment...and boy am I thankful. I am thankful for that very same night, after getting home at 8:30 (my early night), Grayson says "rock rock mama" as I'm putting him to bed. And did I pass up that opportunity? No indeed. Brannan came in and asked my why I haven't eaten yet - and my only answer was that "my baby asked me to rock him...and that, I will do."
I pray. I pray. I pray. I pray for more deep breaths. I pray for more moments that I cherish with my sweet boys. I pray that BK3 doesn't have to say "Mama, I want to spend more time with you." as he and I both adjust to this new all-day school life. I pray for more moments where God so graciously steps in and says "Open your eyes, Carrie! Life is right now. Don't worry about what is in store next!" I can firmly agree that it must be great - what He has planned for us all. I trust, because He makes this path for me. With it's twists and turns. With the happiness and tears. With the nights ending with me saying "God, please build me back." With the mornings where I feel like a superwoman who can conquer the world, because while I slept, HE did just that. He builds me back to conquer each day. He builds me back to share with others just what that means...God is here, inside us, and never letting go. Just like someone will see beauty in that empty, stripped down, damaged, battered home. Just like someone will come in and build it back to perfection, God sees us in all the beauty we can be. The wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and teacher that I am. Even with the long days, stressful rants, temper-losing moments, rounding up chickens, rounding up children, rounding up dancers, rounding up life...God builds me back. For that, I am forever grateful.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Monday, August 29, 2016
Down to the studs...
Everyone has their own version of the story for the weekend of August 13th. The weekend that changed many of our lives. The weekend that brought one home after another down to the studs at its core. And everyone's stories are true. We knew rain was coming, but we had no idea just how much. And exactly what it would do. Brannan and I built our home during the year of 2012. The largest water level this city had seen to date was 41.5 feet in 1983. The engineers guided us and told us that the flood plane was 45.0 But it had been 30+ years since a flood of that measure had broken into our city. I remember the steel manufacturer asking us how high we wanted our beams, and Brannan (for whatever reason) said "put our house at 46.5...let's be 1 1/2 feet higher than the flood plane." That decision saved the inside of our home.
The rains came and by Friday morning, schools canceled, flood advisories were out, and the Amite river stage grid showed us reaching records within 48 hours. We took the entire day to empty the barn, empty the space beneath our home, move the chickens, and watch the water creep closer and closer by the hour. By noon, my parents home had flooded, not by the river, but by the amount of rainfall that measured in such a short time. Backflow is what they call it. Or something like that. All I know is that an entire community north of I-12, not in a flood zone, flooded before any of us living on the river did. All due to the amount of rain that fell in record timing. Friday was their day. Their homes are down to the studs.
The grids showed the river being at 39 feet by daylight Saturday morning. A measure that we knew was easy enough for us to boat out in our pirogue, to a vehicle we'd park near Florida blvd, and get out for good until the waters receded. We packed our bags and went to sleep. I woke at 5 a.m. and checked the grid before looking outside. Within 5 hours, the water level changed drastically from the projected amount. B took the boat out to check on his truck parked on higher ground. We had lost it. The water was already 41 feet by 5:30 a.m., and it flowed with a current that proved to me it was already crossing a main highway through our city. It was too late for us to boat out. At that point, we had to wait, like all others, for better, stronger boats to come to our rescue. I wasn't afraid of the water level (it still had 6 feet until it would enter our home), I was afraid that our steel beams would give way into the then 12 feet deep waters flowing beneath us. I tried so hard to hide my fear from my boys. They were fascinated that we were surrounded by water. I let it be. We put them in puddle jumpers and life jackets and I made them play with blocks by the front door. I knew that if I felt the house sway, I'd run, and we'd swim. Not that it would have even worked. We all know my swimming skills suck, and I didn't have a life jacket. Within 2 1/2 hours, Brannan's dad and a good friend had gotten to us. I had already cried 4 or 5 times that morning, but at that point, I was so thankful to leave my home. They couldn't take us all, so Brannan stayed back. The three boys, myself, Mr Blayne and Colt headed out. At that point, I saw Florida blvd and all of it's buildings under water. Water was white capping across the highway. People were walking in chest deep water from their homes on side streets up to Florida. Carrying baskets full of items, or children, or pets, even newborn babies. Our plan was to make it to the law firm at Florida and Range. But the boat couldn't take us anymore, since the motor was hitting the pavement. We had to walk. Rain came down, current crossing shin deep over me, barefoot, clinging to Grayson while Mr. Blayne held the hands of Briggs and BK3 - both of which thought this was quite and adventure. For that, I'm thankful.
We walked until we couldn't walk any further due to the water levels. We waited for an army vehicle to come toward us, but instead got into the back of a stranger's 4x4 lifted red Ford Truck, who was also rescuing relatives off of Florida. They didn't even question the space. They just said "get on in.". I cried again. At that point, I began to realize that it didn't matter what was going to happen with that water entering my home. My boys were safe. My husband would soon be safe too. And I didn't give a damn about anything else. That truck drove all of us through the deep waters and fast current to the higher area of Florida and Range. We had made it to the law firm where we met up with Brannan's mom, sister and her boyfriend. I learned at that point that the projected had raised to 46. I knew then, it would probably enter our home. But again, I was too thankful to be alive at that point.
The next few days were a blur. Our day was Saturday. My parents had evacuated to my Aunt's home south of I-12, and it flooded Saturday night/Sunday morning. Sunday was their day, again. Other communities flooded days following due to all kinds of conditions that again, were unprecedented; unheard of. All the while, AT&T towers had malfunctioned and no one could get in touch with anyone. No communication. People stuck in their attics, stuck on second floors, stuck on roof tops, stuck on the interstate trying to leave, stuck in walmart parking lots, stuck at the highest ground they could find, and surrounded by water. Sunday was their day. We worried about our family members, our friends, our new places of shelter, our next few weeks and months. Social media was our only chance to find out any information as the national media could have cared less. And that's ok...now.
It's ok because strangers got in their own boats. Strangers opened their homes. Strangers opened their arms and their hearts to one another and said "get on in." People helping people because that's what we are here to do. When the going gets tough, the people here come tougher, and for one another. That's the truth. As nature has it, the water has gone down. The homes are destroyed. Memories, belongings, keepsakes - destroyed. Down to the studs. As a people, united, we are down to the studs. God has everyone displayed that way. Down to the root of what is important. Shaving away at the excessive wants and desires that now lie at the curb, water logged, waiting to be tossed to a landfill. Down to the studs. I am proud to be a part of this community of Denham Springs. A community of brave individuals who love above all else in a time of disaster. Surely, we can all look for the negative. But all I see is a community of fighters and believers, down to the studs, ready to build back up again. And this time, with bigger hearts - bandaged by the love shown from others - beating with a strong trust that God is with us, for us, and will never leave us. He is helping everyone pick up those pieces that are left. To build an even better life - from these studs, who will remain a part of the old and the new. Pray for our community. For those who's day was Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday. Or any day. Pray for the hearts, down to the studs.
The rains came and by Friday morning, schools canceled, flood advisories were out, and the Amite river stage grid showed us reaching records within 48 hours. We took the entire day to empty the barn, empty the space beneath our home, move the chickens, and watch the water creep closer and closer by the hour. By noon, my parents home had flooded, not by the river, but by the amount of rainfall that measured in such a short time. Backflow is what they call it. Or something like that. All I know is that an entire community north of I-12, not in a flood zone, flooded before any of us living on the river did. All due to the amount of rain that fell in record timing. Friday was their day. Their homes are down to the studs.
The grids showed the river being at 39 feet by daylight Saturday morning. A measure that we knew was easy enough for us to boat out in our pirogue, to a vehicle we'd park near Florida blvd, and get out for good until the waters receded. We packed our bags and went to sleep. I woke at 5 a.m. and checked the grid before looking outside. Within 5 hours, the water level changed drastically from the projected amount. B took the boat out to check on his truck parked on higher ground. We had lost it. The water was already 41 feet by 5:30 a.m., and it flowed with a current that proved to me it was already crossing a main highway through our city. It was too late for us to boat out. At that point, we had to wait, like all others, for better, stronger boats to come to our rescue. I wasn't afraid of the water level (it still had 6 feet until it would enter our home), I was afraid that our steel beams would give way into the then 12 feet deep waters flowing beneath us. I tried so hard to hide my fear from my boys. They were fascinated that we were surrounded by water. I let it be. We put them in puddle jumpers and life jackets and I made them play with blocks by the front door. I knew that if I felt the house sway, I'd run, and we'd swim. Not that it would have even worked. We all know my swimming skills suck, and I didn't have a life jacket. Within 2 1/2 hours, Brannan's dad and a good friend had gotten to us. I had already cried 4 or 5 times that morning, but at that point, I was so thankful to leave my home. They couldn't take us all, so Brannan stayed back. The three boys, myself, Mr Blayne and Colt headed out. At that point, I saw Florida blvd and all of it's buildings under water. Water was white capping across the highway. People were walking in chest deep water from their homes on side streets up to Florida. Carrying baskets full of items, or children, or pets, even newborn babies. Our plan was to make it to the law firm at Florida and Range. But the boat couldn't take us anymore, since the motor was hitting the pavement. We had to walk. Rain came down, current crossing shin deep over me, barefoot, clinging to Grayson while Mr. Blayne held the hands of Briggs and BK3 - both of which thought this was quite and adventure. For that, I'm thankful.
We walked until we couldn't walk any further due to the water levels. We waited for an army vehicle to come toward us, but instead got into the back of a stranger's 4x4 lifted red Ford Truck, who was also rescuing relatives off of Florida. They didn't even question the space. They just said "get on in.". I cried again. At that point, I began to realize that it didn't matter what was going to happen with that water entering my home. My boys were safe. My husband would soon be safe too. And I didn't give a damn about anything else. That truck drove all of us through the deep waters and fast current to the higher area of Florida and Range. We had made it to the law firm where we met up with Brannan's mom, sister and her boyfriend. I learned at that point that the projected had raised to 46. I knew then, it would probably enter our home. But again, I was too thankful to be alive at that point.
The next few days were a blur. Our day was Saturday. My parents had evacuated to my Aunt's home south of I-12, and it flooded Saturday night/Sunday morning. Sunday was their day, again. Other communities flooded days following due to all kinds of conditions that again, were unprecedented; unheard of. All the while, AT&T towers had malfunctioned and no one could get in touch with anyone. No communication. People stuck in their attics, stuck on second floors, stuck on roof tops, stuck on the interstate trying to leave, stuck in walmart parking lots, stuck at the highest ground they could find, and surrounded by water. Sunday was their day. We worried about our family members, our friends, our new places of shelter, our next few weeks and months. Social media was our only chance to find out any information as the national media could have cared less. And that's ok...now.
It's ok because strangers got in their own boats. Strangers opened their homes. Strangers opened their arms and their hearts to one another and said "get on in." People helping people because that's what we are here to do. When the going gets tough, the people here come tougher, and for one another. That's the truth. As nature has it, the water has gone down. The homes are destroyed. Memories, belongings, keepsakes - destroyed. Down to the studs. As a people, united, we are down to the studs. God has everyone displayed that way. Down to the root of what is important. Shaving away at the excessive wants and desires that now lie at the curb, water logged, waiting to be tossed to a landfill. Down to the studs. I am proud to be a part of this community of Denham Springs. A community of brave individuals who love above all else in a time of disaster. Surely, we can all look for the negative. But all I see is a community of fighters and believers, down to the studs, ready to build back up again. And this time, with bigger hearts - bandaged by the love shown from others - beating with a strong trust that God is with us, for us, and will never leave us. He is helping everyone pick up those pieces that are left. To build an even better life - from these studs, who will remain a part of the old and the new. Pray for our community. For those who's day was Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday. Or any day. Pray for the hearts, down to the studs.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
4 Stores and a 1 1/2 year old.
It's been six months since I last documented these funny life stories. There are many moments throughout a day when I say "I have to take note of this..." but then, I'm so tired that the only thing I want is for my head to hit the pillow. Today though. I make time.
I was a bit late to the game and waited until last night to call for an early bed time in order to get ready for this wave of re-awakening with school starting. I've been in my 9 a.m. carpool bubble for 3 years now, and this 7:25 a.m. thing is probably what is giving me the most anxiety. I asked B to get the boys to bed early, in hopes of me getting ALL OF US up early this morning to practice. Practice. Yeah...
I can't remember at what point Grayson crawled into my side of the bed, but I know it was before 3 a.m. I woke up around 3:45 dreaming of snakes, and was pushed out of the bed by the 1 1/2 year old. Sweating. Knowing the 5:30 attempt to open my eyes for good was going to be rough, I let that snooze happen until 6:30. Hey, I tried. Ran into the shower, with Grayson crying at the shower door...not sure why, except he just was pissed that I left him in bed with Daddy. One day, I'll be dragging him out of bed...but now. No. He robs me of the quiet morning coffee during the 6 o'clock hour EVERY DAY. Got out of the shower, greeted by the eager BK3 who already had his clothes in hand asking if it were time to practice. He is me made over. Karma. So that went well, even though it was an hour behind schedule.
After a few demands, "MAMA, LECHE!", "Mama aren't you glad, I didn't pee in the bed?!!", "Mama, when am I going to meet MY teacher?", "Mama, does Daddy go to work today?", the boys love to go out on the back porch and feed the cats/Roxie every morning. It had only made it to around 7:05 a.m. and I was making lunches, trying to pour coffee (thanking God it was at least still hot), and daddy B says "Hey, I haven't seen Gray's head bopping around on the back porch in the last few minutes..." Me. Panic. It's way too quiet. After a few minutes of frantic yelling for a toddler that isn't going to respond anyways... I figured I'd go look downstairs outside. Yep. He actually hollered back to me after I called outside "Yeh Mommy!"...it was WAY too far away. And sure enough, the little rascal had gone down 21 stairs, somehow dodged numerous piles of chicken shit, trekked through the back yard to the tractor shed about 50 feet behind the house, climbed up on the tractor (it's a big tractor), and was seated in the driver's seat. The cat had followed him out there to chill too... He was TOO proud. And I was relieved. "Oh, he's just on the tractor." I promise I don't neglect my kids.
Right after breakfast, I began packing BK3's booksack for tomorrow's Kindergarten start. I suddenly realized that I had only bought 2 pair of navy shorts. 2 pair in size 5, and 2 pair in size 6, just to see what fit. Then forgot that I didn't actually buy the other 3 pair of what I'd need in order to dodge laundry 3 times a week. So I threw the kids in the car (not really, even though they probably would've thought it was fun) and decided we could easily find this in Denham. Not. We went to 4 stores. And it wasn't until store 2 that I realized I hadn't brought a stroller. Genius, Carrie.
Store 1: Old Navy.
Briggs stole the limelight here. While Grayson was fighting me to put his feet into the cart's seat, I turn around to see Briggs RIDING the dog mannequin. RIDING IT. I yell BRIGGS! GET OFF THE DOG! (why does Old Navy have a dog mannequin?) and in the exact same second thank GOD for the mannequin not crushing under his 40+ 3 year old self. He responds "Why? I was just trying to be a cowboy." Cool Briggs. No navy shorts there.
Store 2: Kohls
There's a cart here too. Thankfully. But no shorts. But there was a rack of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle memorabilia that Briggs told the entire store he needed for his birthday.
Store 3. Belk
No cart. That's when I realized I needed to eat my wheaties for breakfast. After a few threats of telling the boys to stay near me, ask Bk3 to hold my purse since I had the giant toddler, and making Briggs promise to "walk up", we entered the automatic doors, which BK3 stared at for 30 extra second thinking they were magical. I hauled to the back corner of the store, where I immediately scanned and saw no navy shorts. The super nice older lady who worked there said "Oh! I'll watch him while you look for shorts".... Yeah right, watch Grayson? Sure enough I set him down, and he ran, like Usain Bolt in the mens 100m, setting out a devised route that he had been working on since we walked into the store. The lady looked at me like HE was the crazy one... come on woman. It's written all over him, and every other 1 1/2 year old who graces the department store with his or her presence. Briggs and Brannan got a huge kick out of his lightening speed and ran after him, shouting every audible you can imagine. Now, it's become a game. I then bolted, told the lady thank you, and met them two sections over, where Bk3 was hanging onto Grayson's shirt neckline like he had just roped cattle. Grayson squealing. As I grabbed G like a football under my arm (when he throws a tantrum, you have to keep his limbs away from your face), I looked at the other two and my eyes told them to make a b-line for the door. Bk3 ran in front of me and the screaming toddler, screaming sounds like a race car, while I look back to see Briggs trying to "not step on any cracks." Now, if you know Briggs and how slow he is anyways, you can imagine how slow he is avoiding cracks. Again, we got in the car, buckled, and I just could only think about how thankful I was that I didn't pee on myself...I had 2 cups of coffee this morning.
Store 4. Stage
There was a cart. Thankfully. I asked the first person I saw if they had navy shorts and she was smart. She took one look at me with my 3 boys and didn't waste my time. NO NAVY SHORTS. Ok cool! Do you have a bathroom? Cause I still have to pee. Thanks! 3 boys in a large stall in the womens' bathroom will finish out that day for ya real quick.
Store 5. Walgreens, but not looking for shorts.
At this point, I think the boys could understand the fumes radiating off of their mama. My tone was calm (surprisingly), and they behaved. We were checking out, and a kind man with an LSU shirt, around 75, walked in. He stood and waited inside near the door until I gathered my three from the checkout and headed out. He said "Ma'am are ALL THESE BOYS yours?" to which I said "Yessir, they're all mine" He responds with "you sure are blessed with these fine young men you have."
To which I took a deep breath, smiled, and all of the chaos of the 4 previous stores blew on away. He's right and as I buckled everyone in their seats soon after, I could only be thankful for him. He was sent right there in that very moment to remind me how beautiful these tiny chaotic moments prove to be. I think that those signs of thanksgiving are graciously thrown at us everywhere. Surely, we don't always notice them. Especially nowadays, when we are preoccupied with everything imaginable. I was content in the no-find Navy shorts that I'll tackle again tomorrow, in Baton Rouge this time. And for the rest of the day, thought often of that nice man who helped me see the light in that quick minute!
We start Kindergarten tomorrow. BK3 is more than excited to eat in the cafeteria, and that helps me to calm down a bit. Going to bed thankful tonight for the many men and women who love my boys. The many who serve and will serve as their teachers in the coming years. My heart is full, knowing that there are special people on this Earth who they will admire and learn from, as they grow into young men themselves. Or cowboys, as Briggs chose today.
I was a bit late to the game and waited until last night to call for an early bed time in order to get ready for this wave of re-awakening with school starting. I've been in my 9 a.m. carpool bubble for 3 years now, and this 7:25 a.m. thing is probably what is giving me the most anxiety. I asked B to get the boys to bed early, in hopes of me getting ALL OF US up early this morning to practice. Practice. Yeah...
I can't remember at what point Grayson crawled into my side of the bed, but I know it was before 3 a.m. I woke up around 3:45 dreaming of snakes, and was pushed out of the bed by the 1 1/2 year old. Sweating. Knowing the 5:30 attempt to open my eyes for good was going to be rough, I let that snooze happen until 6:30. Hey, I tried. Ran into the shower, with Grayson crying at the shower door...not sure why, except he just was pissed that I left him in bed with Daddy. One day, I'll be dragging him out of bed...but now. No. He robs me of the quiet morning coffee during the 6 o'clock hour EVERY DAY. Got out of the shower, greeted by the eager BK3 who already had his clothes in hand asking if it were time to practice. He is me made over. Karma. So that went well, even though it was an hour behind schedule.
After a few demands, "MAMA, LECHE!", "Mama aren't you glad, I didn't pee in the bed?!!", "Mama, when am I going to meet MY teacher?", "Mama, does Daddy go to work today?", the boys love to go out on the back porch and feed the cats/Roxie every morning. It had only made it to around 7:05 a.m. and I was making lunches, trying to pour coffee (thanking God it was at least still hot), and daddy B says "Hey, I haven't seen Gray's head bopping around on the back porch in the last few minutes..." Me. Panic. It's way too quiet. After a few minutes of frantic yelling for a toddler that isn't going to respond anyways... I figured I'd go look downstairs outside. Yep. He actually hollered back to me after I called outside "Yeh Mommy!"...it was WAY too far away. And sure enough, the little rascal had gone down 21 stairs, somehow dodged numerous piles of chicken shit, trekked through the back yard to the tractor shed about 50 feet behind the house, climbed up on the tractor (it's a big tractor), and was seated in the driver's seat. The cat had followed him out there to chill too... He was TOO proud. And I was relieved. "Oh, he's just on the tractor." I promise I don't neglect my kids.
Right after breakfast, I began packing BK3's booksack for tomorrow's Kindergarten start. I suddenly realized that I had only bought 2 pair of navy shorts. 2 pair in size 5, and 2 pair in size 6, just to see what fit. Then forgot that I didn't actually buy the other 3 pair of what I'd need in order to dodge laundry 3 times a week. So I threw the kids in the car (not really, even though they probably would've thought it was fun) and decided we could easily find this in Denham. Not. We went to 4 stores. And it wasn't until store 2 that I realized I hadn't brought a stroller. Genius, Carrie.
Store 1: Old Navy.
Briggs stole the limelight here. While Grayson was fighting me to put his feet into the cart's seat, I turn around to see Briggs RIDING the dog mannequin. RIDING IT. I yell BRIGGS! GET OFF THE DOG! (why does Old Navy have a dog mannequin?) and in the exact same second thank GOD for the mannequin not crushing under his 40+ 3 year old self. He responds "Why? I was just trying to be a cowboy." Cool Briggs. No navy shorts there.
Store 2: Kohls
There's a cart here too. Thankfully. But no shorts. But there was a rack of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle memorabilia that Briggs told the entire store he needed for his birthday.
Store 3. Belk
No cart. That's when I realized I needed to eat my wheaties for breakfast. After a few threats of telling the boys to stay near me, ask Bk3 to hold my purse since I had the giant toddler, and making Briggs promise to "walk up", we entered the automatic doors, which BK3 stared at for 30 extra second thinking they were magical. I hauled to the back corner of the store, where I immediately scanned and saw no navy shorts. The super nice older lady who worked there said "Oh! I'll watch him while you look for shorts".... Yeah right, watch Grayson? Sure enough I set him down, and he ran, like Usain Bolt in the mens 100m, setting out a devised route that he had been working on since we walked into the store. The lady looked at me like HE was the crazy one... come on woman. It's written all over him, and every other 1 1/2 year old who graces the department store with his or her presence. Briggs and Brannan got a huge kick out of his lightening speed and ran after him, shouting every audible you can imagine. Now, it's become a game. I then bolted, told the lady thank you, and met them two sections over, where Bk3 was hanging onto Grayson's shirt neckline like he had just roped cattle. Grayson squealing. As I grabbed G like a football under my arm (when he throws a tantrum, you have to keep his limbs away from your face), I looked at the other two and my eyes told them to make a b-line for the door. Bk3 ran in front of me and the screaming toddler, screaming sounds like a race car, while I look back to see Briggs trying to "not step on any cracks." Now, if you know Briggs and how slow he is anyways, you can imagine how slow he is avoiding cracks. Again, we got in the car, buckled, and I just could only think about how thankful I was that I didn't pee on myself...I had 2 cups of coffee this morning.
Store 4. Stage
There was a cart. Thankfully. I asked the first person I saw if they had navy shorts and she was smart. She took one look at me with my 3 boys and didn't waste my time. NO NAVY SHORTS. Ok cool! Do you have a bathroom? Cause I still have to pee. Thanks! 3 boys in a large stall in the womens' bathroom will finish out that day for ya real quick.
Store 5. Walgreens, but not looking for shorts.
At this point, I think the boys could understand the fumes radiating off of their mama. My tone was calm (surprisingly), and they behaved. We were checking out, and a kind man with an LSU shirt, around 75, walked in. He stood and waited inside near the door until I gathered my three from the checkout and headed out. He said "Ma'am are ALL THESE BOYS yours?" to which I said "Yessir, they're all mine" He responds with "you sure are blessed with these fine young men you have."
To which I took a deep breath, smiled, and all of the chaos of the 4 previous stores blew on away. He's right and as I buckled everyone in their seats soon after, I could only be thankful for him. He was sent right there in that very moment to remind me how beautiful these tiny chaotic moments prove to be. I think that those signs of thanksgiving are graciously thrown at us everywhere. Surely, we don't always notice them. Especially nowadays, when we are preoccupied with everything imaginable. I was content in the no-find Navy shorts that I'll tackle again tomorrow, in Baton Rouge this time. And for the rest of the day, thought often of that nice man who helped me see the light in that quick minute!
We start Kindergarten tomorrow. BK3 is more than excited to eat in the cafeteria, and that helps me to calm down a bit. Going to bed thankful tonight for the many men and women who love my boys. The many who serve and will serve as their teachers in the coming years. My heart is full, knowing that there are special people on this Earth who they will admire and learn from, as they grow into young men themselves. Or cowboys, as Briggs chose today.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Gym Mom
I enrolled BK3 into a gymnastics class for boys. I had been given many good referrals from trusted sources, but had been holding out. One day, I taught him how to do a cartwheel and when I walked away, he actually practiced on his own. Shocker! So we started in January, and he loves it. I'm elated that he's getting some skilled coordination help, muscle tone, and knowledge of gym basics, which I loved and still love to this day. Flips are fun, and I'm thankful I can still manage to show a few moves myself. So begins the crossing paths from being a dance school owner/instructor to a mommy. The first day, I learned we can "view" the class the entire time - cool. That's new to me, since for every activity I ever did growing up, there rarely was a viewing window. I have them in my studio, however I also have mini blinds installed, and we close them anytime it's needed. I'm an advocate for sending your child in and letting them learn, grow, love, without being under our watchful eye...however I do understand why it's important nowadays with all of the crazy folk out there.
The first few weeks, my viewing was minimal because of Briggs' and Grayson's pleas for attention. I was a bit thankful, in the midst of being pestered by Daddy to "take as many videos as you can!" because I felt just a little weird watching every move my child made. I even had to watch myself a few times as the fellow moms yelled TO their children from the viewing box, "straighten your legs!", "do the cartwheels like you do them at home!", "pay attention!"....gosh. This is my first run at this, and if this is how all of my child's activities are going to go, then I'll need ear muffs. When my kids screw up, I laugh. Because right now, the screw ups are rather mild. And they're learning. And I know they NEED to learn, in order to grow. I am certain that the screw ups will intensify, and then it will be my turn to actually cry over it. For now, I laugh. For now, I'm thankful that it's just BK3 getting clocked in the head by some kid's legs who's executing a not-so-perfectly done cartwheel, because he left his station to go tell Coach "Hey, he needs help with his donkey kicks". Cool B, pay attention to your own task...K? K. The coach is great, and again, I'm thankful my child is learning some great skills from a great teacher. Trusting is hard. But it's necessary.
This past Saturday, we took Bk3 to his Kindergarten screening. Kindergarten. My endless mommy-son time will soon be over. It's a pit in my stomach that I'm having a tough time absorbing. My sweet first born will soon be starting real school, and my days will be cut so short. So starts the next 13 years of his life in "school", which I just dreamed about the days before he was born. And now it's here. He spent about 45 minutes with a teacher from the school, and when he came out to us, he seemed 2 years older already. Then the nice lady told us that the subject of most of their conversation was "Deer Poop", and I immediately relaxed. No wedding planning yet...thank you Jesus. I'm not sure how I managed to keep anxious anyways, with Grayson exploding juice boxes all over their cafeteria or eating the ENTIRE orange crayon at the coloring station. Briggs toured the playground, thankfully. Lots of thanks....lots of thanks.
I'm thankful that I'm able to concentrate on listening to each one of my sons, although Grayson only yells NO, Mama, Uvas (Grapes), and Ouch!...so we can mainly assume Bk3 and Briggs. They are becoming such sweet little individuals. They love different foods, colors, activities, sayings, and they have different modes of affection. I have prayed for patience a lot in the last few weeks, and I see many times throughout the day how God grants me the opportunity to practice it. Briggs wants to "Stand on my tippy toes" to pee however gets stage fright for 3 minutes until I surrender and say "SIT ON THE TOILET!". Thankful the bed isn't wet, though...again, thankful. I held a sweet baby girl today, and had to give her back due to my fear of getting pregnant just by the gooey-ness of baby fever. No Carrie. NO. NOT RIGHT NOW. I'm sure my relatives are thankful...again...thankful
Just another day to give the glory where it's needed. God has blessed us so much - and I learn every day how my job as a mom is to pass that along. The red birds that flood my window views are gentle reminders of the ones who love me so much, residing in the best place to be, Heaven. I have thought a lot in the last few weeks about keeping strength, and I have to owe it to my own upbringing. To my parents who worked so hard for me. As I should do for my own family. As we all should do for each other, every day. And when we take just a second to take a deep breath, we notice all of the glorious things that make us smile, like deer poop or a gym viewing window - for that, I am forever thankful.
The first few weeks, my viewing was minimal because of Briggs' and Grayson's pleas for attention. I was a bit thankful, in the midst of being pestered by Daddy to "take as many videos as you can!" because I felt just a little weird watching every move my child made. I even had to watch myself a few times as the fellow moms yelled TO their children from the viewing box, "straighten your legs!", "do the cartwheels like you do them at home!", "pay attention!"....gosh. This is my first run at this, and if this is how all of my child's activities are going to go, then I'll need ear muffs. When my kids screw up, I laugh. Because right now, the screw ups are rather mild. And they're learning. And I know they NEED to learn, in order to grow. I am certain that the screw ups will intensify, and then it will be my turn to actually cry over it. For now, I laugh. For now, I'm thankful that it's just BK3 getting clocked in the head by some kid's legs who's executing a not-so-perfectly done cartwheel, because he left his station to go tell Coach "Hey, he needs help with his donkey kicks". Cool B, pay attention to your own task...K? K. The coach is great, and again, I'm thankful my child is learning some great skills from a great teacher. Trusting is hard. But it's necessary.
This past Saturday, we took Bk3 to his Kindergarten screening. Kindergarten. My endless mommy-son time will soon be over. It's a pit in my stomach that I'm having a tough time absorbing. My sweet first born will soon be starting real school, and my days will be cut so short. So starts the next 13 years of his life in "school", which I just dreamed about the days before he was born. And now it's here. He spent about 45 minutes with a teacher from the school, and when he came out to us, he seemed 2 years older already. Then the nice lady told us that the subject of most of their conversation was "Deer Poop", and I immediately relaxed. No wedding planning yet...thank you Jesus. I'm not sure how I managed to keep anxious anyways, with Grayson exploding juice boxes all over their cafeteria or eating the ENTIRE orange crayon at the coloring station. Briggs toured the playground, thankfully. Lots of thanks....lots of thanks.
I'm thankful that I'm able to concentrate on listening to each one of my sons, although Grayson only yells NO, Mama, Uvas (Grapes), and Ouch!...so we can mainly assume Bk3 and Briggs. They are becoming such sweet little individuals. They love different foods, colors, activities, sayings, and they have different modes of affection. I have prayed for patience a lot in the last few weeks, and I see many times throughout the day how God grants me the opportunity to practice it. Briggs wants to "Stand on my tippy toes" to pee however gets stage fright for 3 minutes until I surrender and say "SIT ON THE TOILET!". Thankful the bed isn't wet, though...again, thankful. I held a sweet baby girl today, and had to give her back due to my fear of getting pregnant just by the gooey-ness of baby fever. No Carrie. NO. NOT RIGHT NOW. I'm sure my relatives are thankful...again...thankful
Just another day to give the glory where it's needed. God has blessed us so much - and I learn every day how my job as a mom is to pass that along. The red birds that flood my window views are gentle reminders of the ones who love me so much, residing in the best place to be, Heaven. I have thought a lot in the last few weeks about keeping strength, and I have to owe it to my own upbringing. To my parents who worked so hard for me. As I should do for my own family. As we all should do for each other, every day. And when we take just a second to take a deep breath, we notice all of the glorious things that make us smile, like deer poop or a gym viewing window - for that, I am forever thankful.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
So long 2015!
Where did 2015 go?
I had been looking forward to our much needed Christmas break for many reasons: days off were hard to come by over the last few months; bed times and bath times were few and far between with me working nights, and I wanted to share in those special times; I absolutely LOVE holiday food; family is important, and I was anxious to spend time with everyone.
With all the rain we have had, the energy levels in the little guys were pushing me to limits I had never seen before. And that was just by day 3. Briggs is reminding us ALL about the torrential 3's, Grayson has a jump on his terrible 2's and BK3 all of a sudden thinks he runs our house - and he means it. Give one of them the wrong color plate, and the food is gonna hit the fan - or the window, or me. Each day, I pray for super powers to read their minds, and although I'm getting closer, I still can't decipher who wants Mickey or the Hulk on their cup this morning.
Christmas came and went. After working 3 hours on Briggs' stocking the night before Christmas Eve, I finished it. Year 3, and he finally got his stocking. Our living room looked like it threw up gift wrap and toys, cardboard boxes and plastic. I still don't think I'm anywhere near close to having it all in it's own "spot." But I'm ok with that too. We succeeded in our annual Christmas day marathon with 4 stops before noon arrived. My kids were champs - except for the moment that the B's decided it'd be a good time to ask great - grandmother, "Do you have any MORE presents for us?". If I could've shoved a cinnamon roll into their mouths any faster, I would have... Instead, I used the opportunity as a car-ride home conversation. Not sure if it worked or not - we'll see next year.
Ringing in the new year was a whole new dynamic this year. We had several friends and their children over to our house, and I got a quick glimpse into the next several years. The kids were wild - and I loved every bit of it. I know that I'll blink, and they'll be at the age where "staying home isn't cool, Mom." So I tried to grasp every bit of it that I could. We had a great time.
Many people challenged me to think of 15 great things in 2015. So here they are:
1. We found a new church parish that we love.
2. Briggs and Brannan became much better "friends".
3. Grayson makes me laugh every single day.
4. A more settled year with my studio.
5. A very successful year with my dancers.
6. Good health for my Papi - he'll be 99 in March.
7. Brannan got the truck of his dreams.
8. Our home seems a little more "Home-ish" this year.
9. I became closer with several people, who I can now consider family.
10. No more Bottles.
11. Briggsy is out of diapers.
12. No more formula.
13. Grayson started school at BPECC, and I love all of my boys' teachers.
14. My boys have begun to show me a tiny glimpse into real "Boy-hood" (I'm not sure if I like it).
15. I did not deliver a child OR get pregnant in 2015.
I have had more than one person ask me if they can list #15 as one of THEIR top 15's...
I am learning that with each year, time passes more quickly. I wish I could freeze my boys at this age, as they are beyond fun, adventurous, and spontaneous. I laugh every single day. I can only hope that my resolution to make more time for them sticks. I am understanding that the simplest gifts from God are the one's that carry the most impact. I look outside every day and at least once, catch a glimpse of a red bird eavesdropping on our adventures. It makes my heart full, because I know that my Dad, Brannan's Dad, and others are just as "along for the ride" as I am. So here's to 2016 - its adventures, its excitement, and its challenges. The Webb's are ready!
I had been looking forward to our much needed Christmas break for many reasons: days off were hard to come by over the last few months; bed times and bath times were few and far between with me working nights, and I wanted to share in those special times; I absolutely LOVE holiday food; family is important, and I was anxious to spend time with everyone.
With all the rain we have had, the energy levels in the little guys were pushing me to limits I had never seen before. And that was just by day 3. Briggs is reminding us ALL about the torrential 3's, Grayson has a jump on his terrible 2's and BK3 all of a sudden thinks he runs our house - and he means it. Give one of them the wrong color plate, and the food is gonna hit the fan - or the window, or me. Each day, I pray for super powers to read their minds, and although I'm getting closer, I still can't decipher who wants Mickey or the Hulk on their cup this morning.
Christmas came and went. After working 3 hours on Briggs' stocking the night before Christmas Eve, I finished it. Year 3, and he finally got his stocking. Our living room looked like it threw up gift wrap and toys, cardboard boxes and plastic. I still don't think I'm anywhere near close to having it all in it's own "spot." But I'm ok with that too. We succeeded in our annual Christmas day marathon with 4 stops before noon arrived. My kids were champs - except for the moment that the B's decided it'd be a good time to ask great - grandmother, "Do you have any MORE presents for us?". If I could've shoved a cinnamon roll into their mouths any faster, I would have... Instead, I used the opportunity as a car-ride home conversation. Not sure if it worked or not - we'll see next year.
Ringing in the new year was a whole new dynamic this year. We had several friends and their children over to our house, and I got a quick glimpse into the next several years. The kids were wild - and I loved every bit of it. I know that I'll blink, and they'll be at the age where "staying home isn't cool, Mom." So I tried to grasp every bit of it that I could. We had a great time.
Many people challenged me to think of 15 great things in 2015. So here they are:
1. We found a new church parish that we love.
2. Briggs and Brannan became much better "friends".
3. Grayson makes me laugh every single day.
4. A more settled year with my studio.
5. A very successful year with my dancers.
6. Good health for my Papi - he'll be 99 in March.
7. Brannan got the truck of his dreams.
8. Our home seems a little more "Home-ish" this year.
9. I became closer with several people, who I can now consider family.
10. No more Bottles.
11. Briggsy is out of diapers.
12. No more formula.
13. Grayson started school at BPECC, and I love all of my boys' teachers.
14. My boys have begun to show me a tiny glimpse into real "Boy-hood" (I'm not sure if I like it).
15. I did not deliver a child OR get pregnant in 2015.
I have had more than one person ask me if they can list #15 as one of THEIR top 15's...
I am learning that with each year, time passes more quickly. I wish I could freeze my boys at this age, as they are beyond fun, adventurous, and spontaneous. I laugh every single day. I can only hope that my resolution to make more time for them sticks. I am understanding that the simplest gifts from God are the one's that carry the most impact. I look outside every day and at least once, catch a glimpse of a red bird eavesdropping on our adventures. It makes my heart full, because I know that my Dad, Brannan's Dad, and others are just as "along for the ride" as I am. So here's to 2016 - its adventures, its excitement, and its challenges. The Webb's are ready!
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