Charitable Giver or Sucker?

My husband says I was a sucker.  I still haven't made my decision.
A few days ago a man came to our business, a few years older than me, told me a story of how he was down on his luck and needed a few bucks to stay in a motel. I said our lot needed sweeping, so if he was willing, I would pay him for it.  He agreed, and it was very hot that day.  About half way through I felt bad for him, so I took him a Gatorade.  We left for lunch, and I went ahead an paid him as he just had a little work left to do and told him to leave our brooms by the door when he was finished.  I half-figured we would return to find we had no brooms.  But there they were, and he did a fine job on our lot.
The next day, the same man returned.  He stated his sister was due to pick him up the next morning and if I would loan him $30, he would be at our door when we opened to repay me.  I agreed and gave him the money. I spent that night contemplating whether I thought he would actually show up, did some praying about it. I had decided if he showed I would accept his repayment and offer him our Bible which we keep on our counter, along with an explanation of how our riches on this earth are temporary, but God offers riches eternal,  and offer to pray with him.
That was yesterday. So far, haven't seen him.  So, I don't know - maybe I was a sucker. But sometimes it seems God guides you to do something and this is what I felt.  I have prayed for this man, that if he was intent on scamming me that God would convict his heart and compel him to return and repay the money, which would give me a chance to witness to him.
I suppose I will just have to wait and see what happens...

What to Expect AFTER You're Expecting

We have recently welcomed our second grandchild. First by our daughter, and this one by our son. It is amazing to me that there is so much information to be gained via the internet and books about your pregnancy and your baby's growth during pregnancy, yet not much information is provided on "real life" after baby arrives.  (I suspect this is because there would be considerably fewer babies if this information were provided first!) 
It is truly an awe-inspiring miracle that a precious baby can be made by two people.  It is God's plan to create a human being from a single fertilized cell.  And the changes a baby makes in-utero are astounding.  And no matter what you read and study, nothing, NOTHING, prepares you for what labor feels like.  It is truly the most excruciating pain you will ever experience and the only consolation is knowing it can't last forever and will be over soon.  With each contraction, you think the pain can't get any worse - and it does, again and again.  I know now days everyone's up for the epidural, but I had two babies without anything, so I got to experience the whole wonderful thing, totally aware. And once that sweet baby is here, you realize all that pain and suffering was totally worth it.  THIS is what you made!  This is the person you wondered about for 9 months and finally, they are here!  And the euphoria comes.  Knowing that you "own" this little person. A person who will love you "just because" you are their mom.  A person who will depend on you for their every need and want.  There truly is no greater joy.
But there are a few hiccups in those first few weeks after the baby is here.  Baby books say you may experience bouts of different emotions.  That is an understatement, to say the least.  They don't tell you that exhaustion will plague you until you think you can't do it anymore.  If you could just sleep for more than 2 hours at a time.  If you were well-rested, the crying and pooping would be easier to deal with.  They don't tell you that every time you are so tired you couldn't be any MORE tired, you get more tired.  And they don't tell you about the days you spend crying because you realize how inadequately equipped you are to deal with and be responsible for another's life.  And the books tell you just how to establish a routine for feeding and sleeping, not understanding that as a mother, you can't bear to see this little baby cry and not know why and that you can't bear to make them wait to eat when you know they are hungry. 
And they don't tell you about the panicked worries- what if they stop breathing? What if their head falls off?  What if I trip and fall and smash the baby and kill it?  What if I go to sleep for 10 minutes, and that's the 10 minutes they pick to roll off something? A million questions, a million doubts.
I watched my daughter do all the right things throughout her pregnancy, have a very tumultuous pregnancy, and her baby came 8 weeks early, with no explanation of what caused it.  The baby spent a month in the NICU, which is also a journey no baby books tell you about.  We learned terms we never wanted to know - apnea, stridor, reflux, surfactant. And I had no answers for her as to why 15 year-old party girls who don't even take care of themselves have perfectly healthy babies and she had a preemie. I could offer no comfort as she had to leave the hospital without her baby, sobbing.  Each day as we walked to the NICU to visit our tube-entwined baby, we passed young silly girls leaving the hospital with their healthy babies - something that was not fair, but happened anyway. 
And you basically lose your identity.  All the fuss people made about you being pregnant is gone.  Now, they could care less if you are there - they just want to know where the baby is.  And just try to find time to shower and fix your hair.  I remember thinking I would never be able to leave the house again!  And when we finally did go somewhere, we might as well have rented a U-haul for all the stuff we took with us!  The dads feel it too.  Sleepless nights followed by days trying to stay awake at work.  And their wife, who previously loved them, now hardly has time for anything except, "Can you get me a diaper?" They are now last on the list of priorities. Arguments and resentment ensue and only time will ease the tension.
There are so many things that only experience can teach you, although it might have been helpful if there were more "after" books and information available!

Welcome Addilyn!!!

This past week has been a whirlwind of activities and emotions!!!  We have been waiting for grandbaby #2 to arrive, and the kids went twice to the hospital and were sent back home, but each time we were poised and ready, only to be told it wasn't time yet.  None of us have slept well, waiting for that middle-of-the-night call to come to the hospital.  Finally, the real call came!  Early Monday morning, my son called at midnight to say they were on their way.  Called back at 3:00 and said they were going to keep them, so away I went! 
Mama labored until around 5:30 that evening and they decided with not much progress being made, they would do a C-section. So by around 5:50, we had a grandbaby!!! A big grandbaby - 8 lbs., 4 oz.!
So excited to watch as my baby boy gets to discover the joys of being a father, and the awe of knowing you created a little miracle!  (As well as the sheer terror when they tell you that you have to take the baby home with you where there are no nurses or doctors at your beck and call!) 
So, here are a few pictures of Miss Addilyn!

Happy Father's Day!

Aren't dad's interesting?  They are very peculiar creatures!  They have permission to do a host of things no one else can do.  They can belch and pass gas whenever they want and nobody says a word.  They can work on something that needs repaired, break it and go buy a new whatever, and nothing is said about it - just the silent nod from the mom that says, "Knew that was coming, just like always", and the nod from other guys at the hardware store saying, "Yep. I've been there, too." Dads are allowed to "play rough" with the kids - wrestle, chase, run, body slam, you name it.  People would frown if moms did those things.  Dad's are allowed to work all day and then come home a plop in their easy chair.  Moms work all day and then come home and work all night.  Dads are allowed to eat supper and then meander off somewhere leaving mom to clean the mess.  Dads are allowed to be in a bad mood and lose their temper occasionally.  Moms must always have a positive attitude and maintain self-control at all times.  Dads are allowed to tell off-colored jokes.  Dads can rev the engine while sitting at the stoplight.  Moms would just look silly if they did that! Dads have calloused hands, and dirty hands.  Dads have stinky, un-pedicured feet. Dads can wear mis-matched clothes.  Dads can wear dirty clothes. Dads can have hobbies and interests. Moms have the kids and housework.  Dads don't have to be home at any given time - they just stroll in whenever.  If moms are late, they are flooded with phone calls - "Where are you?"  "Are you making supper?" "When are you coming home?"
Dads have few responsibilities. Mowing the yard and "fixing" stuff comes to mind.  Moms have to keep house, doctor the kids, know everyone's schedule, make doctor's appointments, remember which child is allergic to what medications, remember the names of all their children's friends, and on and on.  Dads just show up.  They don't even have to pay attention when you are talking to them - everyone says, "That's just how he is."
But dads play one of the most vital roles in a child's life.  Dads set the stage for a child's self-worth.  Most things a kid does is to make his dad proud.  And a father's love is (or should be) totally unconditional.  Dads demonstrate to their children how to treat a lady and how to love your wife.  Most of their moral ethics are copied by their children, good and bad.
I want to say a big "thank you" to my dad for teaching me how to do boy stuff, even though I was a girl. For taking me fishing and untangling my line a thousand times.  For playing catch with me on a hot summer evening, after he had worked all day in the heat and was totally worn out.  For only being married once - to my mom.  For making me go to church and demonstrating that it was important.  For driving a church bus to pick up dirty stinky kids and bring them to church, teaching me that God has no boundaries.  For attending all my extra-curricular activities, even when they weren't his cup of tea.  For loving me even when I wasn't very lovable.  For loving and interacting with my kids just the same as he did with me.  For working hard and not taking vacations so we could have a roof over our head. For trying to do the best job he knew how to do at parenting.  Thanks Dad, I love you!!

The Money Changer

I stopped by a local grocery store, and purchased two items.  The total came to $6.80.  I handed the cashier $7.00.  Not sure what she typed into her computer, but the next thing that popped up was my change due, $5.32.  She gets out a five dollar bill and starts to hand it to me. I say, "Wasn't my total $6.80?" She replies "Yes." I say, "So, you don't owe me $5.32. I gave you seven dollars, so you owe me twenty cents." Most people would have thanked me and handed me twenty cents.  Not this one.  She begins looking at her computer screen, rifling through her change drawer and calling for help.  Meanwhile, I'm standing there saying, "Twenty cents.  You just owe me twenty cents.  My change should be twenty cents."  Finally, someone tells her to just give me the correct change.  Now she begins saying, "Ok. Seven dollars...ummm, Ok. Six dollars and eighty cents....ummm."  Rifling through the change drawer again, digging out a quarter and a nickel.  I am still repeating, "Twenty cents. My change is twenty cents."  Finally I see her grab two dimes.  At last!  My twenty cents!
So, would you want this girl handling your cash?

Mama Could You Hold My Hand by Dana Alexander

Here is one of my original songs, Mama Could You Hold My Hand, written for my mom (who just happens to be the greatest!).
Not the greatest sound quality - phone sitting on piano isn't exactly the best acoustics!
Enjoy!

Mother's Day Doesn't Get Enough Recognition!

Each year, we celebrate Mother's Day.  A Card, maybe some flowers or candy, and maybe dinner at a nice restaurant.  As a mother, all of those things are appreciated, but mothers really should be celebrated more often than once a year. Of all the jobs I have had over the years, and all the responsibilities and pressure, being a mother has definitely been the hardest.  If you aren't a mother, you just can't understand.  Dad's aren't built the same, and don't think the same as mothers. Being a mother is the one job that I totally doubted my every move and decision.  Constantly weighing pros and cons - "Should I let this go or make a big deal?"  "If I ground them and they miss the dance, will they hate me forever?"  "Was that comment just rude, or were they being disrespectful?"  A thousand questions within myself every single day. Always wondering if I made a wrong judgement, if it would affect their lives forever.  And prayer.  Lots of prayer.  Prayers to watch over my kids.  Prayers to guide my kids.  Prayers to lead them to the one true love God picked for them.  Prayers for me to do the right thing in the moment it is needed. Prayers for me to keep my sanity during those teenage years. Will I ever know if I did the right things? 
Mothers wear a variety of hats.  The pschyciatrist hat - listening and advising without actually letting them know you are advising them. The nurse hat - kissing boo-boo's and diagnosing injuries and wiping snotty noses.  The sargeant hat - becoming "the enforcer" and letting them know that you mean business, no exceptions. The limo driver hat - toting them everywhere, waiting in the car for hours, letting them out without speaking to them(so their friend's think they have no parents). The coach hat - teaching them batting techniques, when you can't hit the broad side of a barn.  The librarian hat - reading the same book over and over before bedtime until you think you will lose your mind, then doing it again, just because they asked.  The chef hat - cooking all that you think is good and healthy, only to be met with turned up noses, or "Sorry, going out with my friends." The umpire hat - two opposite stories of what happened with no witnesses. No instant replays, just a call of right or wrong, always considered unfair by the one in the wrong. The love guru hat - listening to stories about the current boyfriend/girlfriend and trying to offer unbiased advice when you want to say, "Dump them." The medical dictionary hat - when you are asked specific questions about everything under the sun, and you try to use all the correct medical terms while trying to make the red color go out of your face. The spy hat -you know, when you sneak around to see if they are really where they said they would be, or go to the same movie as them and sit in the back, under cover.
But being a mother has been the most joyous and rewarding job.  And, after all my years of wondering if I did this or that right or wrong, there have been a few defining moments where I saw into the hearts of my children and knew, they were good people.  Amidst all the fighting and arguing, they were still ready to sock someone in the eye for messing with the other one.  It was OK for them to be mean to each other, but not for anyone else. My daughter wears her opinions and emotions on her sleeve, so we usually knew how she felt about everything. One time some kid at church was bullying my son, so she promptly went over and told him she would knock the whey out of him if he didn't stop.  But my son was more reserved, so it is of him I speak.  Once, when they were smaller, they were running wildly through the house, and somehow a lamp got broken (to this day, they still argue over just who caused it to fall).  I yelled at them both.That night, when I read a bedtime story to my son, he chose "Mama, Do You Love Me?", which tells of a little girl who wants to know if her mama would still lover her, even if she did many mean things to her. Of course, the mama still loves her.  At the end of that book, my son had big tears in his eyes as he said, "That's a really good book."  When my daughter had an especially bad relationship break-up, he sat on her bed while she sobbed and held her hand.  When she had an emergency C-section, he took off work to spend the night in a chair by her bed, helping her with whatever she needed through the night.
So, I guess I did a few things right.  And as the years have passed and I have had many of the kids' friends in and out of our house, I have seen many kinds of mom's and the effects, good and bad, they have had on their kids.  I am far from perfect, but above all have tried to let my kids know that no matter what they did or didn't do, I will always love them unconditionally.  I will always be only a phone call away.  I will always listen to them.  I will always give my opinion on their actions (sometimes to their dismay). I will always pray for them. And this may come as a surprise to some people, but kids don't really want you to be their friend.  They have enough friends.  They want you to be their mom.  The fuddy-duddy. Even though they will complain.  They don't want you to be at the bar.  They want you to be home in your fuzzy jammies.  They don't want you to wear a bikini top to their functions, even if you have the body for it. They want you to look like a "mom".  They want you to be real - the same at home as out in public. They just want you to be plain and simple.  For you set the foundation of their entire being. You set the rules about what is important and what is not.  Your actions set their level of self-esteem and worth. God must have made us emotional beings for that very reason.  We truly "feel" their pain and their joy.  I'm not saying dads don't love their kids, but they just don't have the same feelings that moms do.
And I can't post this without paying tribute to my mom.  For that is where I learned what it means to be a mom.  To sacrifice your wants for their needs.  To say, "Oh, no, I wasn't going to eat that. You take it."  To stand up for your kids when need be. To have that one "look", that needs no words, but lets them know you don't approve. To love them even when they aren't very loveable.  And to have huge amounts of patience.  So, thanks, mom for being a great example for me to follow!