Monthly Archives: December 2014

My love affair with Brad Paisley began in my Senior year of high school. I was a hopeless romantic and would daydream about him singing to me and only me. There was just something about his voice. I’ve never swooned over a celebrity, but he’s one that may just leave me speechless if we ever met.

Jayson knew this when we met. He knew early in our relationship that I would leave him for Brad Paisley if ever the opportunity arose.

In college, Jayson worked for a security firm in Nashville. He was somewhat of a veteran there, so he was put in the best spots. Every year he worked backstage at the CMA’s and he was never afraid to speak to any of the artists. Many of them remembered him from year to year and J was always impressed by that.

One particular year, very early in our relationship, he was backstage when he ran into….. Brad Paisley. A lesser man would’ve done something like pour dish detergent in his drink so bubbles would come out when he sang (Little Rascals reference). Not my J. With no jealousy or worry at all, he walked right up to Brad Paisley and said, “Mr Paisley, my girlfriend just loves you. She swears she’s gonna marry you one day.”

Brad Paisley then said the words that forever changed my life:

“No. Tell her she’s supposed to marry you.”

So there it is folks. I owe Brad Paisley a big thank you for contributing to the best ten years of my life.

Jayson probably still would have asked me to marry him and I still probably would have said yes, however, it’s always been a wonderful story to tell. I married my husband because Brad Paisley said so and it was the most wonderful advice ever given so, thank you Brad Paisley!

*On a side note, I’m not a crazy stalker Mr Paisley. So, if you ever read this and wanna hook me up with tickets to a concert and maybe some meet and greet passes, I promise to be completely normal and chill. Also, our kids are about the same age and mine are available for play dates anytime!

Thanks for reading my blog all!

Kelly

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I originally published this a few days back, but something went crazy and deleted a couple of my posts. I was able to dig this one up 🙂 Thank goodness! So, here it is again. Happy Reading!

As I lay here attempting to sleep, these are the things running through my head:

LuLu poured water in MY bed right where I lay! Great…

Why won’t my children sleep in their own beds? “Your feet do not belong on your sister’s head!”

Who ate a pop tart in my bed? 

“Stop picking your nose and wiping it on your sister!”

I haven’t washed my hair in a week!

“Mom! Lauren just put a booger on me!”

It is 10:00pm! Why are my children still awake?!?!

“Lauren just bit me!”

It’s 32° outside. Why won’t my dog come in? (Probably because she knows she’ll sleep better outside where no one’s flicking boogers on anyone. Seriously, am I raising monkeys?)

Why is she talking to herself? 

I roll over to find my youngest “counting” her toes.

“I got this one and this one and that one and this one.”

Then it hits me as I stared into her sweet little eyes. They are all I have left of their daddy. These girls are him. I no longer get to fall asleep next to my best friend, but at least I have our babies. I may get flustered and sometimes hug them a little to tight to keep from pulling my own hair out, but I wouldn’t have them any other way. I may think I want my bed back, but the truth is, it’s comforting for all of us.  Who cares if they sleep with me until they leave for college? Right?… I believe we all need this bit of extra security right now and one day I’ll wish for this back. So, for now I’ll take the biting and boogers along with the giggles and snuggles. And, if I’m lucky, one day maybe I’ll get some sleep again. Good night all!

Kelly

There was a day, not long ago, when my kids were angels. Everyone said please and thank you, they played together all day and never argued, no one broke anything, spilled their drink in my new car and they ate exactly what I gave them. That day, I went to the grocery store and ran all my errands with no meltdowns and no one looked at me like I was the worst mother in the store because there was no reason for it. We all got along, no one got their feelings hurt and everything went according to plan.

Haha! Are you kidding me? Sounds great though, huh?

I dream of the day I don’t do something to damage my girls. I have an interesting sense of humor. The girls and I were out shopping with my SIL the other day at Kohl’s and for some reason, my LuLu was mesmerized by every thing Pluto (Mickey’s dog, not the once planet) she saw. It was really quite adorable. That same trip, LK carried a Lego book around and was enthralled with it. She loves to read. When we were checking out, I told her I wasn’t buying it (little did she know, I did and it’s under the tree). She told me I always say no to everything, so I said yes to the stuffed Pluto LuLu was loving on. LK didn’t realize I let her have it until we got to the car.

“That’s not fair!” She cried. “Why does LuLu get something and I don’t?”

I said the first thing that popped into my head:

“It’s because she’s cuter than you”. (I thought my SIL was gonna drop my youngest from shock)

LK was semi in shock. I let that sink into her 6-year-old brain while I buckled her in.

“Is LuLu really cuter than me?”

“Well look at her sweetie.She’s just downright adorable! But, you’re my favorite,” I whispered into her ear as a big ole cheesy grin appeared on her face.

“But, I’m still cute though, right?”

“You are, but I can only have one cute one and one favorite. I’m not allowed to make one both and even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

“It’s me, they both yelled.”

It was fun. Weeks later, I’m still using the cute one and favorite one as names for them. It annoys LK, but I figure whatever I’m doing to screw them up, therapy will fix, eventually.

So, for all of you competing for Momma of the Year, good luck with that. I’ll be that mom in the grocery with the screaming kids, pinching one another and making a scene. Try not to be jealous of my awesomeness and remember, We all have mom fails EVERYDAY, but as long as you are raising them the way God has instructed (and they’re still breathing) you are doing a great job!

 Give yourself a pat on the back and some grace. 

Kelly

“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

Numb.:

“Christmas is gonna be hard this year.”

“I just need to make it through the holidays.”

Numb.

“Momma, I miss my Daddy.”

“Where’s my Daddy?”

“I just want my Daddy.”

NUMB, NUMB, NUMB, NUMB, NUMB!!!!!

Except today. Today has been tears and more tears. Today, there’s no numbness, there’s just lots of stress and sadness.

I have 2 sick children. They’ve both been puny for the past week. In the early hours of the morning they both woke up in tears. One had severe ear pain and the other just screamed for hours and couldn’t tell me why. My first thought was to meltdown with them, but at 2am that accomplishes nada. So, after a brief battle with  “I can’t do this” and “I wish J were here” I went numb. It’s something I just channel somehow. It seems to be my coping mechanism.

 Needless to say, none of us slept well at all. However, we all need consistency, so off to school, work and the sitter we went.

 An hour into my work day, I got “the call.”  What makes this situation worse is that we STILL don’t have insurance. I’ve been hounding the insurance call center since September with no luck. I can take my kids to the Dr, but out if pocket expenses can really add up.

 I hit my breaking point.

I was done.

I said some less than pleasant things to the insurance call center rep on the other end of the line while he tried his darndest to talk over me. They tell you nothing and talk in circles. It’s so frustrating! I wish I could numb myself to them… I think I will write my congressman.

 Any who….

Although it helps me function, this numbness isn’t always good. People have been so kind and generous to my children and I.  I’m always sincere in my gratitude, but I’m numb.

“Thank you for the card. It was beautiful” (polite smile).

“Thank you for including us in your outing” (another polite smile).

“That gift was very thoughtful” (yet another polite smile)….

 Maybe you get the picture. I can’t respond to things with the emotion I once had. I think it makes others believe I am ungrateful. As if I didn’t care about their generosity .

 This numbness keeps my guard up. I’m not the person I was 3 months ago. I can’t remember to call. I don’t always return texts. I don’t have time for nonsense and hurt feelings. I really don’t do small talk anymore and I’m more apt to keep to myself. It’s not that I’m trying to be insensitive, I just really don’t think anything of it. I have children that need me and they come first. Everyone and everything else is put on the back burner.

I’m numb.

I’m not numb because of the holidays. I’m numb because I lost part of me. I’m this way everyday. I know I’ll “get through” Christmas because I’ve gotten through everyday for the past 3 months he’s been gone. Christmas is just another day, just like Thanksgiving was. Sure, I love the meaning. Yes, I celebrate our Savior’s  birth and I am passing the true meaning on to my girls, but I have yet to understand why such an emphasis is put on the holidays and getting through them.

 I miss him EVERYDAY. I have to explain to a 2-year-old EVERYDAY that her Daddy’s in Heaven. I have to muster up the strength to console my hurting 6-year-old EVERYDAY.  We make new memories without him EVERYDAY. I am trying to figure out who I am without Jayson EVERYDAY.

What’s one day worth of memories when I have the loss staring me in the face EVERYDAY?

AND…. I guess that’s why I’m numb. Who could deal with all this from day-to-day while feeling EVERYTHING? It would drive you crazy. You’d need superpowers!  I cried when I heard an endearing story about someone helping a homeless man get back on his feet, but I didn’t when someone unexpectedly left gifts on my porch for my children. That bothered me.

Maybe I’m just numb to my own circumstance, or maybe God has just equipped me with what I need, when I need it so I can cope with mine and my children’s new season of life with some sort of grace. I don’t know. But, whatever it is, I know HE has given it to me and I will graciously accept it and glorify HIM through this storm and hopefully my family can be some kind of encouragement to others going through similar circumstances.

Thanks Y’all!

Kelly

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”  †Psalm 91:4

Monday.

To say I am displeased with this day is an understatement. Monday is that day I have to wake up before my children if I want a shower. Monday starts the week in which I will have to drag my oldest out of bed, physically dress her myself after threatening to send her to school in her jammies, frantically get out the door to get her to school on time (without breakfast) and maybe her teeth and hair were brushed. I don’t know, but I know this truancy thing is serious business and some days I think my daughter wants me to spend some time in the slammer just so she can sleep in. That’s Monday folks.

Every Monday morning I start my healthy eating campaign. “No Chick Fil-a this week”  I’ll tell myself. HA! After dragging a child out of bed and making sure she at least looks like someone loves her, who has time for breakfast at home? My waist line hates me. But, the girl at the drive thru LOVES my glasses and knows my order. She could be my newest best friend.

Monday is also that day that people are gonna say things to me that make me want to poke them in the eye. For example, one Monday a few weeks ago, my girls were being particularly spirited while trying to get in the car after school. I had a moment and raised my voice (Southern woman don’t yell. We raise our voice) as another mother was passing by with her perfect angels. “I have a copy of (insert parenting unruly children book title here). Looks like you can use it!” GRRRR. In my head I instructed that mother, very kindly, where she could put that book and that what I really needed was for my husband not to be dead. However, in real life, I just kept my back turned and continued buckling my children into their seats. Thank you kind woman for being so encouraging.

Mostly, I loathe Monday because it took my husband.

However, there are some truths about Monday that I have to share. Every Monday I am privileged to wake up with 2 precious loves snuggled up against me. Monday is the beginning of my work week and I adore my job and the women I get to do life with there. Monday was my last glorious day spent with my J. Monday was the day of our last kiss. It was the day of our last good morning and our final goodbye. Monday is a good day. Monday did not take my husband. Cancer and a worn out body did. Monday was the day I realized just how much God loves me. He showed me just how strong I really am. Monday is the day God revealed just how much the people in my life really care. Monday was the day I knew everything would be ok. Monday was the day I changed the way I see God. It changed our relationship. I’m not sure just how yet, but I’m sure it will be revealed in time.

Oh, and someone paid for my meal at Chick Fil-a this morning. Monday, you are redeemed.

Happy Monday!

Kelly

“Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.”  -St Catherine of Siena

Laughter has always been a staple in our home.

Some crazy college kids…

The same crazy kids, but grown up.

I had a touch of OCD when my husband and I first started dating in college. We rented our first apartment and eventually, we got married. He was bound and determined to break me of my compulsion for perfection in those early years. He would come in and shed his shoes, socks and shirt as he walked, leaving a trail of clothing through our tiny apartment. He would deposit the contents of his pockets onto our entertainment center, then sit and relax. HE WOULD SIT AND RELAX. RELAX! I, on the other hand, would see the clutteration (not a word. I know and I don’t care.) of our 400 square foot apartment and lay in the floor and cry (I was also a bit dramatic). He would tell me to get over it and he would go along with his relaxing. This went on forever. He said that one day, when we had children, he would teach them to tilt all the pictures in our home just enough to drive me insane.

He never got the chance. Our girls are 6 and 2 and he left this Earth 3 months ago to spend eternity with the Lord. His infatuation with trying to cure my perfection complex never stopped and now carries on with our children.

J and his goofy grin.

Right out of surgery

Jayson had an infectious laugh. People around him couldn’t help but be caught up in his joy. He loved life, God, his friends and especially his family. His girls were his world. He was a father, a husband, a friend, a son, a brother, an uncle, a youth leader, a mentor, a jokester, a technical support guru, a lover of history and guns and always willing to help someone in need. He once gave a teen at church the shirt he was wearing because the kid said he liked it. There was another kid who changed the spelling of his name to match Jayson’s because J told the kid it was the “right” way. He influenced those around him. He was amazing.

He died on a Monday in September from surgical complications. He had been diagnosed with a brain tumor in June. It was the 2nd in 4 years. The first surgery was successful. There was really no reason to believe this one would be any different. He came out of surgery in great spirits. He was smiling and goofy. He was amazed that his nurse had hazel eyes, just like him. The recovery seemed to be miraculous compared to the first time. Our oldest, LK, was even able to visit him in the hospital. But that was the night everything went downhill. He slowly stopped talking and was staring off into space. He became violently sick late that night and the next day we discovered that, not only did he have a very aggressive form of brain cancer, but he also had bleeding on the brain. He was moved back to the ICU that afternoon and had a massive seizure that he never woke up from. He died 3 days later with me in his arms.

It all played out like a movie. People came from all over to lay hands on him and pray. I begged and pleaded in the hospital chapel in the wee hours of the morning, just knowing that God was going to heal my husband. We were good people. Bad things happened to us, but they always turned out fine in the end. I asked, so I knew I would receive. I believed, so I could move mountains. I kept the faith and stayed strong. I put God in a box. I held Him accountable to my standards. I acted as if He owed me. As if He served ME! Funny, huh? I was trying to make God conform to my idea of perfection, when He is perfect. God works miracles, He heals, but not always in the way we expect. God healed my husband. He gave him a new, healthy body. Our girls did not have to watch him suffer. They did not watch their daddy deteriorate. They remember him loving and strong, funny and kind. They remember him, not his sickness. I believe that is the true blessing in all of this sadness. I believe that our new life is all part of God’s perfect plan.

This is how the girls remember their daddy, strong and full of life.

“Trust in the Lord with all you heart, lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs :5-6

Our first trip to the beach

Kelly