Today I headed to the doctor with all four of my children. William had already had his well-child checkup, but the other three needed them, and I needed a third opinion on what my hormones are doing to my chin. I’m thinking that if I were a doctor, I’d be excited to see all of these people in one family coming to see me. I’d be thinking that if I worked the situation just right, I could probably make at least one house payment off this crew.

An hour before our appointment, the receptionist (We’ll call her Ms. Happy!) called to ask me to print off all of the forms on the computer so that I could have them ready when I arrived at my appointment. I immediately printed them off, gathered necessary information, and filled out the forms. Of course, I didn’t plan on her calling me an hour before the appointment so I didn’t know that I wasn’t going to have the thirty minutes it took to get the forms done - those precious thirty minutes that I needed to get myself and everyone else ready to go.

Very organized and quietly, we arrived at the doctor’s office 15 minutes late. Now, I know that I have a reputation for being late, and I accept that. I even accept the consequences when I feel that they are justified; however, today’s tardiness was the fault of Ms. Happy, not me. She immediately gave me “the look” and informed me that I was 15 minutes late. I reminded her that she had changed my schedule just a little with her phone call, but I still couldn’t find any hint of a smile. She “sweetly” reminded me that I was already a patient there and knew that I could print off the sheets ahead of time - before her reminder phone call!

As she took all 5,000 of my sheets as well as my insurance card and the kids’ immunization cards, the line behind me grew longer. She had to hole punch my forms and put them in the folders, make notes on the inside of the folders, and enter our information into the computer. As she became more agitated, I offered to make a new appointment for me to see the doctor. I also offered to come back another time so that she would have more time to enter our information into the computer. Honestly, she was making me angry and sad at the same time. In some perverted way, I was wishing that William was going to be seen as well, thinking, “You think checking four of us in is bad? What if I’d had all five of us checking in at the same time?”

Meanwhile, my children were being perfect angels, sitting on the couches perfectly still and quiet. (Evidently, they sensed that I was teetering between going off on Ms. Happy or just riding out the storm!) Once she was finished with me, I went to sit down and watched the stress I had delivered totally consume this normally pleasant woman. We had, simply put, pushed her right over the edge!

Two and one-half hours later as we were leaving the doctor with four prescriptions and three of us being diagnosed with illnesses (so much for well-child), the doctor was thrilled. She was almost giddy as she thanked us for coming in to see her and talked about how fun it was to spend that time with us. (Like I said, at least one house payment!) Two of us even get to have return visits! As we walked through the waiting room, there was Ms. Happy, only changed. She was back to her friendly self, talking and laughing with me. Obviously, we had completely overwhelmed this precious lady. And that was on one of our good days!

No, I did NOT call myself a moron; however, I am an oxymoron! Webster says that an oxymoron is “a combination of contradictory words.” Some examples: sinfully good, sadly funny, house-trained dog, balanced insanity (a.k.a. Kitty), and my personal favorite Mr. Wise, the principal I had when I was teaching who was a total moron!

How am I an oxymoron? I don’t like a schedule. I don’t like for anyone to have control over my time. I live for, long for those days when I have nothing on my plate but lying on the bed, reading, watching The View or Grey’s Anatomy. A little laundry isn’t a big deal nor is straightening the house as long as I don’t have to answer the phone, get dressed at any certain time, run errands, or have any appointments. Even now, I’m CRAVING Friday when I’ll have a no-scheduled schedule (an oxymoron?)!

Here’s the contradiction, though. By the end of that day, I feel totally worthless and end up depressed. The solution? Get busy! So I volunteer in the schools more (today it’s two different schools), volunteer to lead a Bible study, sing on the worship team, organize the Newcomers Receptions at church, agree to lunches with friends, even sign up to be Secretary of the PTO. My schedule is full of field trips, helping in the classroom, spending time at church, talking to friends, running here and there and everywhere else. As I type this part, I am filled with anxiety, the stress of so many things to do and trying to keep them all straight in my head. And when will I nap? More stress! (But no depression - just stress headaches!)

Obviously, one might say that a happy medium is where the answer lies. That really doesn’t work for me since I’m not sure what a happy medium is. I like a busy schedule, yet I hate a busy schedule. I like to check off all of the things that I’ve gotten done, but my head usually hurts while I’m checking them off. I like to keep a well-organized calendar, yet all of the things that I have to do keep swirling around in my brain.

Today, I have a great day planned. I’m at the middle school this morning for a couple of hours collating registration packets. This afternoon, I’m in William’s class helping with production of their consumer projects. Somewhere in between, I need to send out an e-mail to the girls starting next week’s Bible study to let them know that I ordered books and the cost of each. Oh, yeah, and I need to run by the church during that in-between time to make copies of a letter to go out to all of the parents in Kitty’s class, the letter that I haven’t yet written! I’ll check William out of school early for his physical for camp. (I got confused - imagine that - and tried to take him to the doctor yesterday - wrong day - oops!) Then, I’ll come home, figure out dinner before sending my husband and Carson off to worship practice, getting the little ones showered and ready for bed, working out, and finally eating dinner at 9:00 when I curl up in my bed to watch the previously recorded Grey’s Anatomy. My heart’s racing, and I’m full of anxiety (or is it anticipation?). Will I enjoy each section of my day? Absolutely! Will I get it all done? Yes. Do I wish that I had nothing to do today? Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. See? I’m an oxymoron!

I love my family! My brothers are a little mean to me, but I love them. Carson is 13 years old and is in middle school. He goes to youth at my church. Will is 9 years old and is in 3rd grade. He likes karate. I have a sister named Jia. She was adopted from China. Jia is 5 years old and is going to start kindergarten next year. My sister is going to do dance. My dad is working at my church. He is gone a lot. He also loves baseball. My dad is 44 years old. My last family member is my mom. She stays at home and on Wednesdays, she goes to her bible study. She naps a lot. My mom is 41 years old. My family is awesome!

by Kitty, Jr.
Second Grade

Our Aspiring Writer with Her Daddy

Disclaimer - Rowland is not 44; he’s 45 (46 in 3 weeks but who’s counting?). I am not 41; I am 42 (again, who’s counting?). I may nap “a lot” to her, but I don’t nap nearly as much as I’d like to nap!

I just don’t get it! I’ve really tried to understand this whole Facebook phenomenon. I’ve tried to participate by accepting invitations, extending invitations, even writing a thing or two on people’s walls. I’ve taken quizzes that were sent to me. I’ve looked at people’s pictures and at who knows whom. I just don’t get it! Do you have to spend hours just going from one person’s page to the next checking out “what they’re doing right now?” When is the appropriate time to post what you happen to be doing at that exact moment? How often do you share that information? Who really cares? If I want to know what you’re doing, I’ll call and ask you or send you an e-mail. If you want to know what I”m doing, you can call and ask me. (I probably won’t answer the phone because I’m either busy doing something or I don’t feel like sharing what I’m doing! But you’re welcome to try!)

Just today, someone in China wrote on my wall “Kitty…..Really…..” Obviously, he’s responding to something that I wrote on his wall, but I checked back through his wall, and I can’t find anywhere where I wrote anything. Maybe he’s responding to something I wrote on someone else’s wall. Either way, I have no clue what his message means and no way to track it down. What kind of system of communication is that?

And no offense to those who are my age or older, but what in the heck are you doing on Facebook? It has to be like “new math,” something we’re not even supposed to understand! We’re not going to be young and cool no matter how many friends we have or how many people write on our walls. (What is a “wall” anyway?) Give it up!

I guess I’ll keep accepting friend requests since I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. After all, most of the people are already my friends anyway. Beyond that, I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I’ve entered a foreign world every time I get on Facebook, a world where one could waste hours and hours just finding out what everyone’s doing right now. In my opinion, they don’t need to post what they’re doing. If they’re on Facebook, they’re wasting the same hours I am!

When my children were young, I thought of Mother’s Day as a day for me to NOT be the mom. I remember my first Mother’s Day so vividly. We missed church because I hadn’t lost enough of my baby weight to fit into a pretty “Mother’s Day outfit” (whatever in the heck that is! That’s when we went to “dress-up churches!”) Rowland took Carson and me to Cozymel’s, my still favorite restaurant, for lunch and gave me a beautiful, thick gold chain necklace. Each time I look at it, I am reminded of that special day that I had waited for since I was just a little girl.

As we added more children (and more children), Mother’s Day became a little more hectic. Rowland has always done a fabulous job of making “special” days even more special. (In fact, for those of you with less-than-creative men, you should have them give him a call!) Still, Mom’s Day is always on Sunday, and Rowland works on Sundays while I usually sing. We certainly love to worship, and I feel so honored that I’m able to participate with him, but it is essentially work to get the children ready and at church by 7:00 or 7:30 a.m. By the time we’d leave church, restaurants were overly crowded. With so many babies, both of us needed to pitch in most of the time. There was really no break from being a mom.

In the last couple of years, my perspective has changed on Mother’s Day. Instead of desiring to NOT be a mom on that day, I focus on the great privilege of having children, the blessing of being a mother. I thank God for each one of the babies He has given to me, and my heart becomes so full of love for them. I feel honored that I AM A MOTHER on this special day!

Now, don’t get me wrong. I still enjoy a little pampering, and Rowland pulled out all the stops this year. My children made me beautiful cards that I will cherish forever. My husband wrote me a poem that brought tears to my eyes. My “big” gift was the new Barbara Walters’ book “Audition” which I have enjoyed reading today. Rowland went to the church at 6:00 this morning to make sure everything was ready for the service, then came home to get the children ready so that we could all go together, a rarity! He had someone else leading worship so that we were able to sit together and leave after the beginning of second service. We beat the crowds and went to Chili’s for lunch. While I napped and read, Rowland and the children cleaned my entire house!!!! Honestly, could I be any more spoiled?

I am thankful for an amazing day, one filled with joy in my heart and thanksgiving for my four angels and my precious husband! A truly Happy Mother’s Day!!

Opening My Goodies Before Church

A Grateful Mommy with Her Four Precious Angels

The Real Mommy with Her Monkeys!!

Oldest and Youngest (in Her Pose, Of Course!)

Well, I don’t have to worry about Grandmother’s family party anymore as she called today and cancelled it. She has a different idea for how she’d like to celebrate her birthday - high tea at her house on a different day entirely! Can I say, “DONE!!!!”

I’m planning a birthday lunch for my grandmother’s 90th birthday in August. The party will be back in Little Rock, and the original plan was to have her daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren attend. Simple, right? I contacted the restaurant, picked a date, put up the deposit, e-mailed the daughters and grandchildren, and got a head count. Voila!

Not voila! My grandmother thought that her church (one of the former pastors in particular) was also having a HUGE party for her. I tracked down that rumor only to discover that it was a figment of her 90 year old imagination. (This is the same imagination she has had her whole life!) Somehow, I ended up heading up a reception for her at her church as well. Granted, I have wonderful help and have to do very little at this particular stage of the game.

I contacted my grandmother to share the delightful news of her exciting day only to discover that she wants AT LEAST 300 invitations sent out for the church party. In addition, she would like to make the invitation list and okay the invitations before they go out. I explained to her that I would be sending out e-invites so she would need to get e-mail addresses as well. Supposedly, someone has already offered to do that for her. Hmmmm…….. She then informed me that she would like to be picked up in a limo by the three original pastors of her church since they did that when she was 80 years old. After letting her down gently that that was not really in the plan, I could hear the disappointment in her voice. Being the granddaughter who wants to make her grandmother’s day very special, I contacted those pastors and let them know her wishes. They, of course, were more than happy to comply. Now, I wait for the list of 300 names and e-mail addresses so that I can add that to my “simple little party.”

Just to make certain that things got as complicated as possible, the family party has snow-balled out of control as well. I want to be careful to say at this point that no one intentionally caused the avalanche, but it happened nonetheless. I now think that each person who has ever had any familial connection with Grandmother has been invited to the lunch that I was having for her daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Now, I’m becoming frustrated - even a slight bit irritated - as no one wanted to throw any party for her at all. The person who wanted to throw a small lunch has now had a giant affair tossed into her lap.

As I was thinking through this whole mess, I remembered that I was “Susan” from Desperate Housewives, which is probably how I got this whole thing started to begin with. Way too much empathy! Now, I’m not feeling so much like Susan. In fact, I’m feeling like Bree. I’m in control, and it’s going to be my way or the highway! Have I ever mentioned that I take medication for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?

Tonight, we took our kids plus an extra to see “Nim’s Island.” I expected a Swiss Family Robinson-type movie, and I was not disappointed. Once again, Jodie Foster proved that she is a skilled actor as she played an agoraphobic writer struggling to overcome her fears. The little girl who played Nim did a great job as she interacted with the animals, a sea lion, a hooded lizard, and a sea gull named Galileo. Nim’s dad and Alex Rover, the hero in Foster’s books, were also played by two great actors. The scenery was beautiful; the storyline predictable but very entertaining.

There aren’t too many movies that “fit” our entire family anymore since we’re hitting kindergarten to 8th grade, but this was definitely a hit with all of us. Even Carson who thought the ending of the story was a little lame still enjoyed the movie. Great family outing!!

I love to fly! It’s quiet. There’s no telephone. I can’t do laundry or pick up the house. For the most part, I’m “trapped” in a place where I can’t feel guilty about just sitting and doing nothing. Before boarding a plane, I always stop and buy the latest People magazine and some other celebrity “crap magazine.” I devour the junk! My favorite part of the People is doing the crossword puzzle. It’s the only crossword puzzle that I can successfully complete. (So much for that great degree in English - sorry, Daddy!)

I’m not afraid to fly, and even the turbulence doesn’t bother me anymore. I LOVE IT!

While preparing to take off from Little Rock a couple of days ago, though, I experienced real fear, knots-in-my-stomach kind of fear. I wasn’t afraid of flying, but I was definitely afraid of the man sitting next to me! He was sitting there quietly with his IPod in his lap, his ear pods in his ears. As the flight attendant came by, she asked him to turn off all electronics. He showed her that the IPod was turned off so she asked him to remove his ear pods during takeoff. When she walked off, he removed his ear pods and looked at me and said, “Now I’ll be able to hear the screaming.”

Half-laughing, I asked, “The screaming?”

Weirdo: “You aren’t going to scream, are you?”

Me: “No…….” Major questioning look on my face……

Weirdo: “Shit happens.”

Me: To myself, “Our Father who art in Heaven……..”

The dilemma…….Is Weirdo just a weirdo or is he some kind of fanatic who knows that this plane is NOT taking off? Do I pull the flight attendant off to the side and tell her that I’ve just had a strange, perhaps foretelling, conversation with Weirdo? I’m picturing the plane’s being delayed, police taking Weirdo and me off the plane to question us, passengers being angry because Weirdette has appeared. I decided to pray and pray and pray and pray until we reached our cruising altitude.

At this point, Weirdo offered me a Milk Dud, my favorite candy. New dilemma…..If I eat that Milk Dud, will I scream?

Today is a sad day with a happy ending. I’m in Little Rock to bury my sister’s 30 year old son Shaun Michael Braswell. Last weekend, he was riding his motorcycle headed home when a man who was two times the legal limit for alcohol hit him. After a couple of days in the hospital, it was determined that he had no brain function, and he was declared dead.

Besides the fact that he was so young, it’s also a sad story because he led such a difficult life full of an unstable (at best) upbringing, uncertainty of who he really was and who he really desired to be, and many poor choices on his own part. He was a lost little boy in a man’s body. Shaun had a huge, 9 year old boy smile every time I ever saw him. He was so desperate for love and family, desiring to “belong,” just as each of us does. His hugs were always strong and clinging.

A couple of years ago, he had an encounter with Jesus at a revival with his aunt and cousin. As he held his cousin’s hand, he prayed with her and her husband, accepting Christ as his Savior. Although he never took that next step and became a true Christ follower, he is in Heaven now, out of the pain of his life, free at last from his demons!

Shaun was a father to a beautiful three month old baby girl named Jada. While she will never know her father, she has a chance to end the history of drug and alcohol abuse, the heritage left behind by three generations. As I held her in my arms a few nights ago, I told her that Jesus loves her. I prayed over her and asked that God would engrain those words in her little heart and mind. I asked God to place people in her life who would point her to Him, who would love her with His love, who would guide her down the path to being a true Christ follower. She is Shaun Michael’s future now. This can be a new beginning. God makes all things new, and that is my prayer for this precious child and her mother.

As I go through this day, my heart is full of hurt and sadness as I look not only at Shaun’s short life but also at his mother’s, at his grandmother’s, at the disease of drug and alcohol addiction. My heart is also full of hope, though, the hope that we have in Jesus Christ, the knowledge that our eternity is not dependent on the daily choices we make here on Earth but on the one choice that we make in placing our faith in Him.

This afternoon, I will fly back to family, to the squeals of delight, the longed-for, precious hugs, the stories of the past few days, and the loving arms of my wonderful, godly husband. I long for those moments as I sit here and type, preparing to go to a service to remember a young man who was once a little boy just like mine. May God show me how to love my children, how to guide them into a love for Him!

In John 1, the Bible tells us that each blessing we receive is from Jesus, is due to His grace and mercy for us. I thank you, Jesus, for so many blessings beginning with the smiling faces that will be waiting for me when I drive into the driveway of my home this afternoon. You have been good to me, God; You have been good!!