God’s Sick Day

If it’s true that the squeaky wheel gets the oil then now I know how come I am so Blessed. I am a squeaker. I pray about everything. Lord, thank you for the air I breathe. Lord, thank you for hot water and lights. I must call His name fifty times a day. So imagine my daily prayers for my children, oh they are quite lengthy. But included in the long list of personal requests has always been for them to have their very own personal relationship with God. Since they were born, I prayed each night that they would hear and feel God speaking and leading them each day. That they will feel comfortable calling on Him whenever and wherever they like and need to.

Tonight, He gave me confirmation of my prayers. During our last cuddle of the night Morgan whispered to me “Mommy, I don’t think God was feeling well today.” I respond with a slight chuckle and ask her why she would think that. “I think He’s sick because I didn’t hear Him talk to me all day today.” Since we haven’t spoken about her daily talks with God I was a bit surprised, but mighty happy. Hallelujah He heard my prayer.

“Morgan, God doesn’t get sick. He’s God, but are you sure you didn’t hear God all day?” I ask. “Nope, nothing all day,” she says. “Well what about when you had those scissors and was just about to cut one of daddy’s suits?” I ask. “You didn’t hear God telling you that’s not a good idea?”

She chuckles and says “yes, but it was just a whisper so I couldn’t really hear it that well.” So I remind her that God doesn’t need to speak loud, but we certainly have to be willing to be good listeners if we intend to hear what He has to say. I then have a flashback of earlier that afternoon and thank God for His timing because had I walked down the hall 30 seconds later, my husband’s blazer would have needed some serious repair.

So no, I don’t go to church every Sunday and I don’t go around quoting scriptures, but I have my very own personal relationship with God. I believe in prayer and depending on how tough my mommy day is, I may hit my knees for more patience several times, sometimes back to back. I am always glad of His immediate response and the older my children get the more I am reminded of the power of a praying mother.

Pray for your children. Pray for their safety, for their values and their morals. Pray for their spirit and for their talents. Pray for their emotional, physical and mental wellbeing. Pray for their relationships with you, their family and friends and with Him.  Pray that they hear Him, feel Him and allow Him to guide them in their decisions. Pray they don’t forget the lessons you try to teach them. If you don’t do anything else, pray, pray, pray.

Dancing with the Stars

As usual, I have a confession. I have never been a big fan of the traditional Wizard of Oz. I don’t mind black and white films, but as a kid I really thought it was kind of scary. Now The Wiz was a different story, I can easy on down the road with the best of them. And who doesn’t like Michael Jackson? But it wasn’t the Wiz my four-year-old was a part of. She was a sleeping Munchkin in the Wizard of Oz.

Now I really can’t believe she’s been in ballet for two years already. We started out in toddlers and toes and now she was performing in her first performance on what we affectionately refer to as “the big stage.” I will say I sure wish my graduate mommies had warned me about the dance mom culture, cause I was a little unprepared. A full two weeks of dress rehearsals, special hairdos and particular make up colors had me on edge. She completely commendeared my calendar. How’s a poor working momma suppose to follow all those instructions?

Needless to say it was a lot different than showing up during her regular 45 -minute dance class for observation day. I mean a four-hour Wizard of Oz performance is a big deal. Ok, so I heard it was 4 hours, truth is we left at intermission, which was still about an hour and a half after her 60-second performance.

As usual she had a great showing of support. In fact, the entire first row of one section was just for her including aunties, cousins, grandma and family friends. Her furthest cousin drove 2 hours in the rain to be there. And she was thrilled. She received flowers from all of her guests and requested a personally made poster with her name on it from one family. By her account, you would have thought she was Dorothy.

She had warned me before the performance that there was a witch in it, but it was just make up. “She’s just acting, so don’t worry about it,” she said. “She’s really very nice. I talked to her backstage.” I asked her if she was nervous about performing and she said no. I probably should have taken some advice from her.

Truthfully, I was dealing with a lot of anxiety. I kept thinking about not being backstage (no parents allowed), what if she refused to perform? What if she looked for me and couldn’t see me? What if I read something wrong and her hair wasn’t right? And all that went away when she so elegantly made her way to the center of the stage for her part. My eyes got watery and I was overwhelmed with pride. She was confident, smiling and knew what she was doing. She didn’t look for me, she didn’t need to and I was so happy for her. She had such a great support system and I just kept thinking of how very Blessed we are. Her brother watched her intensely, he didn’t say much but he watched her every move.

I was glad for that ray of sunshine because Lord knows it was raining cats and dogs outside and that put a ringer in her after party cookout. But she didn’t seem to mind at all. She was beaming inside and out and so was I.

My Mister

June is an interesting month. It usually sneaks right up on me and then I sit in amazement that half the year is already gone. In addition to pre-ordering next year’s calendar I also have to figure out how to help my husband celebrate Father’s Day. Now truthfully, we are still kind of new at celebrating this holiday I mean our oldest just turned four. But in four years, I have had a hard time trying to make sure my husband feels as special as he makes me feel on Mother’s Day.

I mean as far as fathers and husbands go, he’s the best. When I’m not teaching he’s the first up, so he makes my daughter breakfast. When I am teaching he gets her dressed and takes her to school. He helps with meals and tries to make most of our outings and never goes kicking and screaming, but with a smile. He even does the laundry okay maybe it started out of desperation, but this works for us. For the most part bath time is a family affair. He washes one, while I wash one. He dresses one, while I dress one. He reads to one, while I read to one. Then we pray together he puts one down while I put one down. In fact, even when he has to work late he calls and joins us for prayer.

Now, I know some of you guys are like…what. Yup, this is my normal. This is my husband and this is Morgan and Garrett’s daddy. The slightest deviation in our schedule and I am bombarded with questions about his whereabouts. Truthfully, my son will take me, but he definitely prefers his daddy and I’m okay with that. Having said all that, Father’s Day is a big deal.

But my husband is also a live for today kind of guy. So he’s almost impossible to shop for. He likes what he likes and if he sees something he likes, he buys it. No waiting list of “wants.” So as unceremonious as it sounds, usually I just ask him what he wants. This year his request was a gift certificate to Banana Republic and although I obliged, it just doesn’t seem to be enough.

I mean how can a card or a gift certificate truly let him know how appreciated, valued and loved he is? How can a gift or a day solidify his importance in our lives? The answer is it can’t, but hopefully our effort at least lets him know we see him and we indeed can vouch for one of his favorite sayings that “Real Black Fathers Do Exist.”

Thank you Garrett Taylor for being a shining example in our home and for all to see what your definition of a daddy is. I’m mighty glad to be your wife and Blessed to be the mother of your children. Father is the title you were given at the hospital, but daddy shows up and shows out everyday in our children’s lives; that’s a title you’ve earned.

Catch of the Day

I pretty much grew up fishing. My few day old photos have me in a playpen on what my grandma affectionately called “the fish crick.” When I got older me and my brother would compete to see who could catch the most night crawlers for the next morning. We had our own strategies for catching fish too. I would look for a shady spot; fish like that. I loved fishing right after a light rain too, seemed they always bite then. I can’t reveal all my secrets, but just know I fished often and I was pretty good at it, rarely left empty handed.

Like most kids, the older I got, the less I hung with grandma. I mean band practice, track, cheerleading etc…left little time for catching my own bait. But recently my 4-year-old has been begging us to take her fishing. I’m guessing her curiosity was sparked by something on television, because we haven’t really discussed fishing as a hobby and she wasn’t letting up.

I’ve been fishing once in the 10 years I have lived in North Carolina so I had to do some homework on finding a location conducive to toddler fishing. My friends recommended River Park North and man am I glad they did. You mean we can visit a mini aquarium, have a picnic, paddle boat, fish and hike at the same spot? Perfect.

Sounded easy, but since we had no fishing gear, no fishing license and no bait, a late night Wal Mart trip was not just part of the outing but necessary. I’m not sure if you all have been to the Wal Mart Sporting and Goods department lately but there’s a lot to pick and choose over. There were several children rods and reels, but her eye was stuck on the pink Barbie fishing rod with a matching gear box and accessories. Okay, so she probably didn’t need her own tackle box, but it did match.

Note to self, next time we will actually open our equipment before our arrival. It’s a good thing my husband has the patience of Job and me and the children were able to go on a hiking trail while he put it all together in the parking lot. When we returned we were ready to fish.

She was so excited and truthfully so was I. Taking her reminded me of all the good times I had growing up fishing. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it and what a big part of my childhood it was. By now it’s early afternoon. The weather is pleasant, the pier isn’t too crowded and she didn’t even quiver as I baited her hook. I gave her a quick lesson on her reel and showed her how to cast a few times. She jumped at the opportunity to cast herself and she watched her bobber with intensity.

It only took about five minutes for her realize she doesn’t have the patience to wait on the fish and she certainly has no interest in being quiet while fishing. In that same amount of time, my soon to be 2-year-old was amazed at the idea of casting and his Spiderman reel became quite dangerous. If you don’t believe me ask my husband. Apparently he suffered a minor hook in the finger injury and spent a lot of time ducking and dodging our son’s feeble attempt to cast his own line.

While we didn’t catch a single fish that day, I certainly caught the fishing bug and can’t wait until my first kid free fishing trip. Somebody’s got to use all this equipment.