The Snowy Day

On Sunday night, I read Butterbean the beloved book, The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. By the next morning the ground in East Atlanta was covered with four beautiful inches of snow.

We made snowy memories.
Drank hot chocolate. Snuggled on the couch. Played outside.
And marked every single thing off of Annika's Snowy Day agenda.

Played with neighbors.

Built a snow-woman.

Left funny footprints in the snow.

Sledded down a hill on a cookie sheet.

Drew snowy pictures with our new window crayons.

And mixed up some snow cream.

We just heard on the news that 49 out of the 50 states in America have snow on the ground
right now.

What are you waiting for?

Mary D(ee)

Mary and Hoyt-young and in love

I was Mary's favorite granddaughter. And before you go replacing "favorite" with "only", just know that it doesn't matter to me.
When you visualize the word grandmother, you more than likely picture an old woman with white hair, a low bun, reading glasses, sensible shoes, and matronly clothes.
That was not Mimi.

Mimi at our wedding

Now I'm sure that her siblings could tell you lots of stories about her antics as a child. My mom and her brother and sister could entertain you with stories of her parenting style.

I only knew her as Mimi.

Independent, witty, stylish, opinionated, graceful, loving, intelligent, and thoughtful.

Mary was only 43 years old when she rushed to the hospital to welcome her first grandchild. I will be that same age in just over five short years, and my only child will merely be eight years old, so I can hardly imagine grandmotherhood.

At that point in her life, she decided to be called Mimi by her future grandchildren. After all, it could easily be mistaken for a name when we were out together. I don't blame her, especially since we've already established that she didn't fit the "grandmother" type cast.
The title, Mimi, fit her perfectly.

Mimi was someone that I always relished spending time with.

As kids, we could play with objects that she had collected from all over the world. Explore her backyard and house. Swim in the hot tub and eat all of the hot dogs we wanted afterward.

She sent postcards from far-away places and brought back cool souvenirs.

She was the grandmother that didn't knit me socks or scarves when I was a teenager, but instead let me pick out my own gift while we were on our annual Black Friday shopping trip. She'd always wink and say, "Now, act surprised when you open this on Christmas, okay?"

She was the grandmother who attended recitals, graduations, parties, and special events.

And she always looked fabulous doing it.

I remember the year that I got my first teaching job, I invited her to Grandparents Day at the school. I thought my kids would get a kick out of my grandmother being there. She drove from Atlanta to Cartersville to be there. She was so proud of me. She mingled with the other grandparents, ate lunch with me, and then headed back home. Back in the classroom after the events, one of my students approached me. He quietly said, "My grandfather likes your grandmother. He thinks she's pretty."
I thought to myself, "Of course he does. Everyone loves Mimi."

Mimi holding Annika

I will miss her hugs, her witty remarks, her gold shoes, her green beans, her beauty mark, her rum cake, her cards, and her voice, among so many other things.

I am eternally grateful to God that she only had to experience being old for a very brief time.
I love you Mimi.

The Patriarch

Tonight while running a three miler, I ran past two older gentlemen shooting the breeze in my neighborhood. As I approached them, I smiled at the easy way they talked and laughed while petting the adorable puppy that one of them was walking.
I bowed my head in greeting as I ran past them huffing and puffing. One of them must have been wearing cologne or vintage soap because the smell that overwhelmed me was the scent of my Great Grandaddy Sam.
I was immediately filled with the memories of the years with the wonderfully sweet soul that was my mother's paternal grandfather. . .

He constantly collected dimes, so that when each grandchild and great-grandchild was born, he could give them a five dollar roll.

He visited the "old folks" at the nursing home at the young age of ninety.

He would sit and talk for hours all while patting his hands softly on the arm of the leather chair in which he sat.

And he was the kindest man that I believe I have ever known.
One to truly be admired.

When I turned twenty-one, my mom asked me to come home and celebrate my birthday with him. Our birthdays were a mere three days and seventy years apart.
I remember pouting because I wanted to stay in Athens and "party" with all of my friends.
My mother said softly, "One day you'll be grateful that you came home for this."

She was right.

Based on my hair color, I am twenty-two and Grandaddy Sam is ninety-two in this photo.

Now that's a bright idea!

Butterbean is quite the chatterbox when she's in the car (or her room, or the kitchen, or outside, or basically anywhere).

On the way home from school yesterday she said, "Mommy, turn off the heat." I told her that I didn't have the heat on, but the air conditioner was on to cool off the car. She replied with, "No, I mean turn off the heat outside." I explained to her that I couldn't turn it off because it was coming from the sun.

Her response? "Well, mom, we need a big ladder."

Since I recently posted about "Letting Go", I've decided to let go of using this unbearable heat as an excuse. I began training for the Denver Half-Marathon yesterday, and it was a rough beginnning. Those first three miles of the training schedule felt like the complete thirteen with the point one thrown in on top.

But, you know what? I did it anyway.

Here are some other things I'm letting go of this week because they are outside my hula hoop of control:

1. The fact that I still don't have an official offer from HR for the Instructional Coach job at my school, though my principal recommended me for it.

2. Speaking of hula hoops, I'm letting go of the fact that I can no longer hula hoop. Ms. Taura, Butterbean's super model summer camp teacher, was rocking one yesterday afternoon. My waist is officially too thick to do this anymore. So what?

3. My obsession with limiting my consumption of all things dairy. ( You might think that this is actually within my control, but it's not-I swear!) I heart cheese. I will eat more veggies and run more. Hopefully, this will balance out my cheese intake.

4. My guilt for not "friending" everyone who asks on Facebook and for not returning emails as quickly as I should.

As for you, you should let go of a few things this week.

And embrace the heat, you'll miss it next January!

Experiencing faith

I've been thinking about hope and faith a lot over the last few weeks.

I'm not sure that you can fully experience either one without some "free fall" moments sprinkled in your life. I remember being in middle school and going to Six Flags with my friend, Stacy. We waited in a line for 30-45 minutes to ride one of the newer attractions- "Free Fall". We sat on the bench, buckled up, and held our breath as the contraption climbed higher and higher. Then the machine launched us into nothingness, and we fell suddenly and quickly. I was sick to my stomach and thrilled at the same time. I remember that although I was terrified during those few short seconds, I had faith that I would be okay when I reached the bottom of the ride.

Since then, I've had some of these moments in my real life. God has taken me and launched me into nothingness.

Thrilling and sickening all at once, every single time. I've always come out of it with a better sense of who I am and who He has called me to be.

A few weeks ago my grandmother, affectionately called Mimi, was diagnosed with advanced lymphoma. The very next day she began chemotherapy.

Mimi with Annika-Easter 2009

One day, she's a generally healthy woman who volunteers, attends church, walks daily, and enjoys life and the curves it throws her. The next day, she's a cancer patient.

She was shocked, as were we all.

But she's fighting, and she's having faith that she will conquer this.

And. . . she's rocking her wig.

Labor Day . . . KRAP style!

KRAP: Kulp, Rutland, Adamo People

(Mike, I think this will really catch on just in time for our t-shirts next year!)

This year marked our third family vacation to North Carolina.

(We missed you Jud, Pam, Julia, Sam, Bobby, Debbie, and Geoff!)

I always look forward to this trip: the cool air, the beautiful view, the funny stories, the gross-live-but-tasty-dead fish, the golf cart rides, the Christmas trees, the morning dew, the weak coffee, the Fowler hospitality, the curvy roads, the quiet mornings, watching college football, playing with the kids, the inside jokes, Mancala tournaments, the glory of God, and the yummy biscuits are just a few of the reasons.

Pictured below are a few more.

Annika with her first catch! A nice trout, huh?

Sweeeeet Caroline (duh, duh, duh) and Annika

Okay, so this is my FAVORITE part of the weekend-Family Worship.
It usually occurs on Sunday morning, but this year we promised to go to church with the Fowlers. We had it on Saturday night instead.

Mike and Jack (Clapton)

Does it get any better than listening to father and son play their guitars while praising HIM?

Barbie and Caroline

and mother and daughter beaming with pride?

I know that God looks forward to this part of our weekend every year, too. Our hearts belong to Him, and it is a wonderful feeling to know where your dearest loved ones will spend eternity.

We have decided to make ourselves fools for Him.

Unconcerned with dignity, He made us free. That's proof enough for us!

(Thanks for the inspiration, Nichole Nordeman!)