Flaming June's Love

hum·ble (h m b l) adj. hum·bler , hum·blest 1. Marked by meekness or modesty in behavior, attitude, or spirit; not arrogant or prideful. 2. Showing deferential or submissive respect: a humble apology. 3. Low in rank, quality, or station; unpretentious or lowly: a humble cottage     Just when I started blogging about how miserable I can get about the state of things in my life, I am reminded... You are a very VERY lucky girl. So everyone has the right to complain, but should we? I am taking a break from the complaining part of my life, I am now going to rejoice the blessings, far too  numerous to count, and praising God for my good fortune.   When Allie called on Sunday to say she had a bellyache, I immediately went to the, aw you were out last night, had a bit too much fun, take two tylenol you will be alright. When she continued to complain on monday and said her pain moved to the lower right, it hit me... She might be sick? Some...

The sun was out this morning, early spring sun was pouring in our shadeless bedroom window at 7 am.  After a night out with my Andy to the Karen Lavan Bokelman foundation celebration, I was feeling a bit foggy this am.  Yes, I drank beer and a vodka on the rocks in the middle of all the beer, it was well needed and deserved.  I laughed alot, smiled alot, chatted alot and felt kind of pretty.  It has been a rough, ROUGH two weeks with the boy.  Of course these weeks are not as bad as they used to be, but... Im a tired Mama bird when it comes to the EVERYDAY crap. That said-I had a chance to hang with my Andy last night.  I got to watch him interact with people that we like.  He chatted with his cousin Micheal who makes him happy and feel comfortable with.  I watched him from afar alot, just observing him while I collected tickets, or stood at the bar with a few people. He really is a beautiful person.  I was sitting with a woman named Cath...

Our home growing up was very, very small.  I don't recall it bothering me or being anything of an issue at the time.  But now as I look back I can only imagine the time my Mom had keeping it neat and tidy with 4 kids, a dog, and my Dad to deal with.  All of our "stuff". My room was painted a light pink, with bright raspberry trim.  My carpet was grey.  All my furniture was painted white.  I had a bedspread that was patchwork and everything had a place.  There was a closet in my room, but it was filled with my Moms clothes and shoes, hats, coats and belts. That door would only close and latch if you pushed hard and heard the click of the handle. Once it was shut, you wouldn't dare open it-for fear of the BOING of clothes! It was certainly neat, but JAMMED full of stuff. When I got in a mood, which didnt happen often I would climb into the closet and sit on the shoes.  Then pull the door closed behind me and wait for the click.  That mean...