Water Moccasins and Black Chickens

Or in other words, my children don't get outside enough. I thought they did, but I was WRONG. Let me start at the beginning. Awhile back, I was in the kitchen happily mopping my floor and shakin' a lil' somethin' to the ipod...lost in my own little world. The boys were all occupied, and I was enjoying me some mama time. Well, lo and behold, that little blonde child of mine, BRAXTON, came running into the house screaming, "MAMA! There's a WATER MOCCASIN in the driveway!" Now, I know. Right now it's like 30 degress outside, but at the time of this occurence it was all of 95 degrees on the Fahrenheit scale. Ya know...water moccasin season. And we do have this waterhole in the front of our woods. Well. Thank tha lawd this child's daddy was hanging around at the time, because this mama don't do no damn snakes. So big, brave daddy goes outside with Braxton to "take care" of the "problem." Mama continues to shake it up on the inside. Minutes go by, and big daddy comes in laughing. Mama is curious...Well, come to find out, that water mocassin was no less and no more than a South Ga Red Wiggler. Fish bait. Yeah, we shoulda moved to Whigham long ago. Who'da thought Cairo was big city livin?

The Case of the BLACK CHICKEN
As most of you know, we are Gator fans. Well, sometime near the end of October, near Halloween actually-haha-we play this team called the Georgia Bulldogs. And as most of you who keep up with this kinda stuff remember, they kinda handed it to us last year. BUT. UF had DA TEAM this year, and we proceeded to kick the red and black off the bootays of dem dere dawgs.

We have this friend...we'll just call him Bryan to protect his privacy...well he came to our house flying this bigass UGA flag off the back of his truck. UGGG. (bless his heart) Well, needless to say, things didn't quite go his way that day, so he decided to go on a possum killin spree. (Hey, it coulda been worse..we did have a problem with that, so we were all good..okay, well maybe it wasn't a SPREE) Well, dear Bryan (bless his heart) didn't move the one possum that he killed far enough away from the driveway, although we didn't realize this until days later.

Our dear son Braxton was the one who brought this to our attention. Again, Mama was in the house mopping the floor shakin a lil somethin to the ipod, (sound familiar?) when Braxton came running into the house yelling, "MAMA! There's a buncha black chickens in the driveway!" Mama's like, WHAT?! I had no idea what he was talking about, so I go outside to see these black chickens in the driveway...thinking SUPPA! HOLLA! and as I'm sure you already have figured out, dem wernt no durn black chickens. They were straight up buzzards eating that dead possum on the outskirts of our driveway. Soooo, lesson learned...show Braxton some pictures of some actual chickens , and don't ever invite no DAWG fans over to the house when the GATORS are winning! (Just playing Bryan, we love ya!)

Cold BUSTED

So far, we have made it seven years with all beliefs in Santa, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy, and all dem...intact. Well. Last week, while I was occupied with other things, Braxton went into my bedroom, opened the drawer to my bedside table, and proceeded to plunder. He came running into the living room holding up the little ziplock baggie which has been the home of his first lost tooth for a few months now. He was yelling, "Mama! I found an old tooth of mine that the Tooth Fairy must have forgotten to leave me money for!" Luckily, he didn't notice my "deer in the headlights" look of total surprise. I recovered pretty quickly though, and I just said, "Well how about that! We'll just have to leave it under your pillow tonight, then!" He handed me the baggie and sure enough, it had his tooth, and a note that said Braxton - 1st lost tooth, 3-7-08. Thankfully, he must have just read his name and stopped. How he didn't notice everything in the Tooth Fairy's hiding place, I'll never know. And the next morning, Braxton was another dollar richer. The boy got paid twice for the same tooth. But in my opinion, that's a small price to pay to keep 'em believin'!

Holding Hands

I met my very first best friend when I was three years old. We went to the same nursery school together, and through that, our mothers became lifelong best friends. I don't remember the first time we ever held hands, but I do remember much of the childhood that we spent together. We moved down the road from their family when I was in second grade.

By this time, we both had two younger sisters. They were also best friends, and we relished torturing them. I remember bike rides on dirt roads, digging for arrowheads in the field, exploring through the woods, scaring our younger sisters with tales of dead Indians, and playing their Atari 5200. (We only had the 2700).

As we grew older, we retained our friendship. We always knew we were like brother and sister, and a romantic relationship with each other never crossed our minds. I recall a time in high school, when an ex-boyfriend was talking bad about me. My old buddy set him straight. He was the big brother I never had. He was my first best friend; the first boy to ever hold my hand.

My little niece, Grace, held hands with her first boy at the ripe old age of not quite 5 months. She was at her grandfather's wedding, and this boy just reached out and took hold of her delicate little hand. He did it again at a birthday party exactly a week later. He is her cousin, who was born exactly one week before she was.

My hope is that these two cousins share a lifelong close relationship. I hope they ride bikes down dirt roads together; I hope they explore the countryside together; I hope they share the amazement of watching tadpoles turn to frogs; I hope they share a closeness that only exists when you don't remember life without that other person being a part of it.

In twenty-five or thirty years or so, when she decides to marry, I hope to be there. I look forward to watching her share her first dance with her husband, her second dance with her daddy, and I hope she will choose to add a third dance. And I hope that third dance will be with her first best friend, the one with whom she shared all her secrets, this closest of cousins, the first boy to ever hold her hand.

Alrighty...here's my intro!

Why did I decide to start a blog? Well...I'm a mother of three boys, and they're always doing crazy stuff...as boys do. I have a seven year old, a six year old, and (drum roll) an almost 6 month old. (More about that later.)They make me laugh, they make me cry, they bring out the best in me, they bring out the worst in me; they are the loves of my life.

I want to remember this chaotic time in my life when I reach my mid fifties...and they're all gone. I figured it up, and I'll be retiring from teaching about the same time that the baby is midway through college. So, I'll be lonely, and since I love to read, I figured I would start writing this now...and provide myself with my future reading material! And since my grandmother suffered from Alzheimers, and my daddy is getting mighty forgetful here lately, I figured I'd better write it down or it would be lost forever. And some of this does not need to be lost...as you will soon see!

I was in Wal-Mart last week, and unfortunately, we were being the stereotypical Wal-Mart family. I'm embarrassed to even describe it. Just imagine me trying not to lose it as we're waiting in the checkout line...Braxton is trying to run over Nathan with the buggy, and Welles is starting to get fussy. I'm obviously...frazzled. A sweet looking grandma type was behind me in line, and said to me wistfully but with laughter in her voice, "You're gonna miss this one day."

I thought about her comment the entire way home...and am still thinking about it now-a week later. And I know she's right. So thank you, Mrs. Wal-Mart lady, for giving me perspective. The next 18-20 years of my life will be one great big adventure...there will be good times, and I'm sure there will be bad...but this is my life, and these are my kids, and I'm gonna miss them dearly when the time comes for them to leave my nest. So, I've decided to enjoy it all, the good and the bad...so hold on tight and let's ride! Because I'm gonna miss this one day.