Beginnings ... endings ....

It's a cruel realization when a mother watches the beginning and ending all in one event!  Aaauuughhh….

It actually started at the beginning of the 2011-2012 school year (it just took this long to feel it sink in!!)

Jeffrey plays in the final 2012 band concert in Beginning Band ...

Jeffrey found new life in music when he decided to join Beginning band in middle school.   He chose flute and has practiced faithfully always working hard to be worthy of first chair....  he’s anxiously looking forward to next year in Intermediate Band and has already auditioned to play in Jazz Band (for which he will learn a new instrument – Alto Sax)… hmmm, I sense a theme forming.

THEN after the concert … my heart skipped a beat and froze as I watched my young boy who suddenly seemed so different to me  ~  perhaps it was my angle, no my vision was fine ... I do see a girl clinging to his shirt and staring into his eyes walking backwards in time with each of his forward steps…  YIKES!  This being the same kid who at the beginning of the school year looked too young to be in middle school, thought it was weird that girls liked texting him… but now stands five foot six on size 11 shoes ~ happily walking along through the crowd of band students with a female cling-on stuck to his shirt.    [Ughhh say it isn’t so ….]  

---

Jason plays his FINAL concert Jazz / Advanced Band ... 

It becomes more apparent every day that my oldest son will be leaving middle school and this six foot one boy with size 13 feet will be hurled into the world of high school …where his already whirled hormones and furled emotions are exposed to exponential disturbances.   Ugghhh   (I dare not even attempt to capture its depth, as I think “been there, done that” works with the HUGE adjustment for ‘gender’ difference.)

In case you didn’t recognize Jason, he’s the (not-so-natural) copper-haired guy standing head and shoulders above the rest… can’t miss him!

---

Hair styles and colors come and go, but all in all they both have big hearts, LOVE music, and they shock me with their mature approach to life and responsibility.  

Just the other day Jason took his own money to school to pay for a lost library book – we didn’t even have the conversation about why he should pay for it not me… he just took responsibility for it.   I was, of course, genuinely sad that he had to pay for a lost book; but the fact that a child didn’t feel entitled to a parent’s pocketbook and the right for someone else to pay for his oversight --  yep, I am one proud momma!   [end of story … someone else found the book and turned it in … so no fee was due.]

Not to be over looked is Jeffrey’s refreshing display of responsibility.   He remembers to pull the clothes from his PE bag  (Oh thank you, Lord) and promptly takes the offending clothes to the washer all items from boys shared hamper; promptly begins the load of laundry and typically remembers to follow through to the dryer, folding and putting away (at some point his bro’ is involved in the folding/put away of his own stuff though).  He uses his own money to buy donuts when he goes somewhere with his friends … and wants to save up to buy his own pair of custom Nikes.

---

♥  ♥  ♥

I continue to enjoy the blessings of being a mom … even while giving hugs in the upward direction (yes, with heels on too) it’s not such a bad deal.   

     H o n u  g i r l                         

Brief update ...

Some things change:

like the color and year of my CRV  ...   

    my ability to work full time ... 

         and NOT being allowed to workout at the gym ... 

Some things, well ... not so much.

I was leaving work yesterday -- after my 4 hours (limited service until doctor releases me for full-time) -- and once again amazed myself in my innate ability to lose my car; although, I do try to park in the same general area daily to avoid such confusion.

The search begins immediately as I walk out the front door, looking first toward my typical parking spots, remembering oh, that's right I arrived later and drove around.  As I survey the parking lot I give right-of-way to a car as it exits the lot... trying not to look obvious about losing track of my car.

Resolved in my mind if I start walking maybe I'll remember which direction to search; as I get closer to the vehicle parked directly across from the entry I decide it's prudent to push the unlock button on the key faub...  I will watch the lights flash and see where my car is (how clever of me, eh?)

Watching for lights I laugh ... as the one two feet in front of me is mine.   No really!!  I don't make this stuff up --  it can't get any more obvious than that!   I proceed to enter my car as though I knew it was mine all along.  Quickly apologizing to my lovely little car for forgetting what color it was and who it belongs to.   hummph.

...

And then begin the memories of those awesome days I used to workout with King G at the gym (daily, but even more miss the Fridays only now).   I would walk out of the gym and inevitably lose my car among the many SUVs in the lot ... truly surprised at how many silver ones park in the same area as mine -- and ultimately feel totally embarrassed when I would try opening the door of the wrong car.
=(    Yep, those were the days!

Ah, but now I my car is darker, its charcoal or graphite or metallic something-or-other gray ... it looks so different I have to bump into before I recognize it.   Hah!


Some things NEVER change -- at least I always enjoy a good laugh!

                 Honugirl          

free therapy ...

and it wasn't even MY birthday!!


Thanks King G for a most excellent session ~ 


and the workout was great too!!   


Enjoy your day!  =D

Happy Birthday - King G !!!

he writes …

Age Poem

At twelve I lived for the delicious chocolate-chip cookies my Mom and I made on Wednesday nights.

I lived for rock-band and staying up till 11:00 pm playing the endless setlist 1.

I lived for the endless nerf wars that 'the Jeffreys' and I would have (that they would win).

I lived for the times when we all would cuddle on the couch and watch a movie.

I lived for the times when Jeffrey and I would play fetch with Eddie and Jeffrey would hit the stop-sign 150 ft away

I lived for my friends and family and the help they have given me.

I lived for the times where we would play Mario Kart and watch Mom lose … horribly.

I lived because I wanted to Live.

But what I really live for is music, for getting into the emotion of the song and falling like a feather into the dark blue sea of emotion, music and love.

So music is what I really live for.

By: Jason Lyon
(Age Poem - 2010)

Spring Break begins ...

 on the beach with cousins

 taking the Northbound train... 

    

cold art ... imitating life?

                                                       real art ... live trees    

tall attractions  

  

musical fountain!

  

fish calls ...

a break  for coffee ... and chess

  

so much to see @ the aquarium 

Time flies ~  Spring Break ends...

HonuGirl

Save the spray for other spots ...

everything has God's fingerprints on it!

Although it seemed like a normal morning when the alarm sounded... my pounding headache suggested that today could be "one of those days". I immediately (after the 2nd snooze) drug my body off the bed with half open eyes found my way to the kitchen drawer where the powerful gel caps for migraines/tension/stop-the-pounding-in-my-head medicine resides.

I swallowed them down rather easily, by-passing the need for my usual "control-the-gag reflex" self-talk routine necessary to consume my daily vitamins. It may even have helped that I drank an energy drink with high concentration of vitamin B and proprietary herbs... wait now, these are the healthy kind of herbs people (certainly legal in any quantity)!!

BEEEP, BEEEP, BEEEP ... Al-righty then, another alarm sounds -- time for the boys to get up. Must skip espresso routine. Notice the empty kitchen sink. Turn light on in boys room down the hall. Notice the time. Wonder how it took 30 minutes to get pain killer and go back to take a shower? Hmmm, the mysteries of a Thursday morning.

Reminder:

God's fingerprints are in the smiling kitchen sink on a 2-snooze, need pain killer, no-latte morning.

Then came breakfast... while the boys ate, I struggled to cleanly cut the Magic Cookie Bar Treats I made last night for Thursday Treats at the office.

Being a tiny bit concerned about a successful outcome, I took my sample bite (honestly, I didn't followed the recipe 'exactly' -- I "guess-ti-mated" the amount of chocolate chips and coconut to sprinkle on top.)

After eating my sample, I announced to the tall young man who was now standing over my treat dish -- "uh-oh, Jason, I think there's too much chocolate."

To which he replied: "Mom, there can never be too much chocolate!"

"True, but you deserve a taste to decide for yourself" -- I handed him a small portion and watched with interest as he portrayed all the facial expressions and mouth movements of a professional bakery taster savoring the distinctive flavors and preparing to critique the pastry chef.

"Well, I have to agree, the chocolate overpowers the flavor of the coconut; maybe you should follow the recipe next time, Mom -- there would be more balance."

I was so impressed and befuddled that I gave him another one and said -- "good plan, we'll go with that."

Reminder:

God's fingerprints are in the beauty of 'graceful suggestion' rather than critical words.

Last night Jeffrey wanted to make cupcakes (announcing his dislike for coconut in my recipe). So he gathered the cake mix, bowl, eggs and measured the ingredients. He mixed it together by hand and then with a mixer until the batter was just right. We set the temperature together and I helped with pouring and oven placement. Then he watched the timer, waiting patiently for his reward -- a beautifully browned bunch of cup cakes fresh from the oven!

"Can we eat one tonight?" he asked hopefully. As tough as it was, I said he should wait until morning and have one with breakfast instead.

Morning had come, breakfast was eaten, cleaning routine completed and he had observed his brother consume two bites of chocolate coconut treats already. A if on cue, Jeffrey requested permission to taste his own cupcake, with a nod of my head, he quickly peeled the wrapper and began to enjoy the fruits of his labor (he even offered one to his brother).

He giggled with joy after bite number two and sweetly brought his half eaten piece to me for a taste -- usually I decline cake, but he was so adorable about making it -- I couldn't refuse him the pleasure.

I made a big deal out of that bite -- and to my taste buds surprise he had secretly dropped chocolate chips into the center of each cupcake before baking!

He was so delighted with his mouth-watering goodness he announced (as proof) -- "see, Mom, there can never be too much chocolate!!!"

Reminder:

God's fingerprints are on hidden greatness in the center of something simply "good."

The work day seemed to drag on slowly. The boys will not be home until Sunday. My emails lurk with unresolved status. It's cold outside. The snow flurries are expected for this weekend.

My headache is gone. Ornaments viewed during lunch bring words of faith, hope, blessing, grace and "believe." The day seemed to end quickly. A phone call creates an unexpected opportunity to see the boys. My friends bring smiles through personal visits, email encouragement and long calls filled with laughter. What a blessed day.

Just when I think I'm in a sticky spot, needing some spray to clean up what I view as a mess; I'm reminded to stop for a second to breathe in the beauty of the moment. I begin to relax and soon I'm whispering "thanks, God for leaving your fingerprints on my day!"

Reminder:

God is the midst of every day - touching each event - leaving His fingerprints throughout moments in my world.

HonuGirl

Caution falling plates...

Yikes!!

I've wanted so desperately to prove to myself how capable I am of spinning a multitude of plates. Those plates varying in size and fragility ~ all in motion at once, different speeds, yet simultaneously whirring in a rhythm undetectable as music, but still a slight hum is noticeable.

As delicate as plate-spinning can be, it becomes quite a display of skill for a single working mom-2-boys (feels more like throwing a Thanksgiving platter) must remain in perfect speed and motion at all times; and I've learned it takes a great deal of focus to keep an eye on balance and speed as it [the platter] sets the pace for all others.

I noticed most recently the healthy balance of fun twirling as a girlfriend; best-friend; sister; daughter; auntie; and workout partner are falling short of a full spin... { must keep spinning; glance, touch, tiny blocks of time carved out ... yes, a brief spin achieved - nothing broken; keep moving}.

Not that any of the responsibilities uhh plates spin without effort; they are charged to effectively spin to whatever their role in the rhythm... whether "Chief Chef" of fast {yet semi-healthy hopefully hearty} meals for 2boys; the ever eager computer dazed CSI at work; the positive, encouraging business-owner; finally and possibly even with some semblance of energy and ability must maintain the plates of merry maid; apt accountant; cheerful chauffeur; delightful director of daily events ... and ... umm ... blurry-eyed blogger [there are many more, but I'm exhausted already] ... and to think I wished to be a City Farm Girl {not too sad about the lack of a green thumb now}.

Ooohh the thought of what's on those plates marked "not yet in motion" or the ones Dory forgot were in motion [hi, did you see a plate spinning by here?].

There it was...

that...

you know... the thought that triggered the tiny spasm of stress that twitched the itty bitty finger that caused the wrist to wiggle which skewed the first moving orb to tweak off center ... sending all things into slow motion {as life seems to be moments before) THE CRASH!

The rest they say is history ~ you know, the part only a therapist knows because to the untrained eye the plates still appear to be spinning quite well; but all things simply seem normal due to a special skill in positive self-talk where the world sees the result of what is whispered to ones self as truth!

I am a capable, successful plate spinner. I love spinning these plates. My plates spin in perfect timing and speed. When I spin my plates with grace and patience the other plates will seem to spin themselves. All plates spin well when I touch them. =)

Uh-oh, oops, oh-no, you'd better duck ~ plates in motion!!

HonuGirl

TGIF … and then comes

Monday

I distinctly recall it being Friday and thinking TGIF!! More than ever the weekend sounds perfectly inviting after graduating from my 8^th week of training. Didn't have to cook dinner - Tony took the boys and me out for dinner to celebrate!!

Oh how sweet it is that the weatherman says the sun will definitely cooperate with my need for a little R&R in the hot sun.

Then came Saturday when I spent the day inside helping my Mom clean her fridge; babysit my niece so Grandparents can nap; help Dad clean the office and setup a printer; I even remember buying groceries (which I usually try hard to forget). Hummph, no sunshine for me I stayed mostly indoors except the few times I retrieved the indoor cat from outdoors.

Okay, so I went tanning with my little sis we could swap stories on the drive over/back (since I haven't called her).

Strangely it is Sunday; I am skipping church to help my parents – they are going to sell the house and haven't purged anything for quite a few years; which requires a lot of objective sorting, recycling and donating. Uhh, well I helped sort Dad's office until he threw up the white flag – completely overwhelming. I took Mom shopping – (note to self: never believe the weather report) running through mud puddles wearing capris and flip flops is so NOT cool!!

Sunday night at home I am in a full fledged parenting moment with my son over his refusal to attend camp this week. His options are: "go and have a good time or good and be miserable – the choice is yours; let me know how it works out!"

As if by some freaky time warp now it's Monday. I remember working; leaving early for an appointment with my eye doctor (yes, my friend – I did say EYE doctor). I have let this eye thing go so long that very close friends have to 'nag' (or pretend to not sound like they are nagging, right King?) to convince me that it's important. … So then the cute eye doctor says I need reading glasses as he coyly infers that "time" makes that happen. Yeah, right along with gravity (wait that's wrinkles) and stress (that's gray hair) – then again, some things remain healthy and intact (appetite is just fine, thanks).

But at home I am blessed to hear how my son thought camp was great and asked if I was still going to "let" him attend the rest of the week. =)

I realize it's the weekend is over, so Happy Monday!!

Thank God for another day... and a chance to blog!

HonuGirl

Past comfort…

Present pancakes – perfect peace.

Whoosh ~ the present moment was gone. Oddly I was back many years ago remembering days at my parents' house.

I'm the oldest of siblings still at home – and the only one allowed to stay up late enough to watch Dad prepare for his graveyard shift at his full-time job; which (barely) afforded him to continue his calling – full-time pastor of a small church.

After working his eight hour job; he'd catch a short nap, then spend the mornings with my younger siblings. I was at school by then, but it was fine – as I looked forward to evenings with Dad.

I'd sit near the sink and watch him shave; talk about my day while he applied a dab o' Brylcreem to his carefully positioned "comb-over do", and listen attentively to his fatherly wisdom while he completed his final act of grooming - splashing the Old Spice aftershave onto his freshly shaven face – yikes. {My legs get goose-bumps at the very thought of such an act.}

I twirled at those special moments – spending one-on-one time with Daddy. In those precious moments I was not just "number 4-of-7" I was his one and only Baby Girl (don't tell my sisters). It was as if all other six siblings were distant memories.

Dad's words have always been my comfort, whether spoken or written ~ his cards are meticulously chosen and always signed with personal thoughts. In his words - his voice - I find peace and security; feel assured of life and hope; and know the strength and wisdom he represents.

~

Remembering even farther back… when we lived overseas,Daddy would tuck me in last at bedtime (well, I was number 4-of-4 then and THE Baby Girl). After reading (sometimes instead of) the books he would tell stories – describing his day in the form of a story book (seems we were sans Dr. Seuss over there). Gradually he would switch gears and the story became about how life compares to the life of Joseph or King David in the Old Testament or Nicodemus and how Saul became Paul in the New Testament. Sometimes it was whatever he had studied from the Bible for the next day's classes to teach at the West African Bible College.

~

What exactly created this emotional flashback anyway?

Hmmm.

Earlier tonight I was having a conversation with Dad. He was describing his day at the hospital. He told me in detail "all" that happened throughout the day: he took 2 walks with the nurse; visited with his older sister; Mom brought my niece - Baby Girl to visit and she wanted to take home the BIG bear my boys and I brought for Papa. Every visitor commented on Jeffrey's colorful drawing which Grandma taped to the front of the shelf.

Dad's story was building to its climax as he proudly exclaimed he had his first solids. =)

~

As he described his first meal selection for dinner, it all came rushing back...

Pancakes and scrambled eggs for dinner ~ Dad's favorite meal!

We often would have breakfast foods at dinnertime to celebrate Dad being with family for dinner before he had to leave for work at night – most of the time to give Mom a break, he would prepare that meal.

~

Funny, I never made a connection that breakfast at dinner time with Dad was such a comfort. So without the calories of comfort food – the thought of my Dad eating his favorite meal sans tube, false teeth and all, I am twirling like I did as a little girl.

Settling in for bed I remember the sweet, strong sound of Dad's voice telling his day-in-a-life story; my mind, heart, and body at rest for the night.

HonuGirl

Basking in the sun...

mentally anyway.

Today I work the 8-5 program.  

This means I get to walk through the sunny parking lot from my car to the office.   

Inside when I stand at the copy machine I feel the sun rays hit my skin through the window (I'm thinkin' I have A LOT of copying to do today.)   

At break time there's a brief opportunity to walk the trail around the building a couple of times... happy to have remembered my sunglasses.  

At lunch I can change shoes and take a LONG walk around a nearby park/walking trail... see wild life (birds, bunnies, toddlers n such) my food awaits at my desk.   

By the end of the day I will cheerfully make the glorious sprint out the door of the office and back to my car ... where I am off to enjoy the sunshine with my boys (when they are home).   

The pool isn't open yet, so I am not yet envious of the people who live to wear swim suits and spend their day basking in the sun...  

although I vaguely recall the precious days when I was first to call "dibs" on the best spot by the pool.

HonuGirl

I simply cannot live without...

 my Dusty Puddles!!!

I giggled and smiled today as I swerved just enough for my tire to splash water over my hood from the puddle in the road.  Just as my eyes followed the water rolling off the right side of the hood, I noticed the speed limit sign and nearly laughed out loud!

These may seem random, unusual and not the common trigger for a jovial burst of smiles and laughter (odd even for an inside joke); to me these are sweet reminders of life in the form of memories.

Once I heard a radio announcer ask a caller “what is it you cannot live without for even one day?"     I think the caller answered some favorite brand of flavored coffee; he set out to prove she would survive.  Hmmm, my mind didn’t go THERE!!!  

That query stayed with me throughout the day; in quiet moments I gave myself a couple seconds to ponder, then answer… it appears there are a lot of things I can live without than not.   Many are materials things, some are tasks:  say I could live without garbage or bill paying or a few other things like that… yeah!   (Ya see, I was trying not too be deep and start listing people.)

 

As the puddle spluuushed and the sign read 25MPH the answer occurred to me -- I know what I couldn’t live without … MEMORIES!!!   Special moments that made me smile, giggle, or laugh.  Even those which made me weep, are to me precious gifts as I journey through life.

Which leads back to my love for Dusty n Puddles:  Da boyz (nicknames from ATVing with their Dad) read on...   you'll get it:

Jason stays ON the trails (except under duress and must travel off trail or be lost).  

Jeffrey stays OFF the trail (except under duress and must be on the trail or be lost).  

Ask Jason about the future – he says he would like to be a pastor or fly jet planes or be an architect (recently he decided he could do them all – indeed, why not?). 

Ask Jeffrey what he might like to be when he grows up – his first answer is always “I want to be ME” – then he  says “a monster truck driver!!”  

Therefore, while Jason remains relatively safe within the rules on the dry or ‘dusty’ trail;  Jeffrey finds every opportunity to skip outside the marked path and get muddy in the ‘puddles’.   =) 

So it is in life; when we travel in the car together Jason asks “Mom, are you sure you’re going the speed limit?”  Within five minutes, Jeffrey might say “Mom, run through that puddle over there” (on the opposite side of the road).  

May special memories bring a smile to your face … as you (attempt to) drive the speed limit and/or swish through the puddles of life!!!

Happy Day my friends!!

HonuGirl

Decisions, decisions...

What, not another one?? 

 

I have made a great number of decisions to arrive right here, right now.  Sitting at my age, in this chair, at this computer, with two kids (hopefully sleeping), as I write this blog...   about decisions.

 

Difficult or simple; successful or faulty – each decision has its own private path to present.

 

For instance being a mother consists of a gazillion + 1 decisions.  (Uhhh, starting with becoming one – but I’m not EVEN going there).   Who knew that being a mother would include psychology of the strangest kind, unrealistic curiosity about the simple things, creativity of the culinary kind, the patience of that Old Testament guy, Job {or a good dentist for repairing the ground down enamel on teeth from NOT speaking her mind when there’s so much to say, but nothing uplifting for offspring ears}… AND another thing … why isn’t there a test to prove that she can handle such things prior to making that first decision to ‘become’ a mother.    Huh???

 

 

My experience with avoiding decisions has proven that I don’t like making them.  But, I’ve also learned (from my vast experience in avoidance) that my lack of making a decision still creates a consequence… it’s the opposite of Nike’s “just do it”.  Also it’s the difference between making things happen and watching things happen.  There's always been SOMEone standing nearby who gladly makes the decisions when I hesitate; well, there used to be.  

 

In my lifetime, to say I’ve avoided making more decisions than I’ve made, would be sadly accurate.   

 

Yet.  In the past two years I have made so many decisions my head spins to recall even a few of the small ones – I'm too tired to think of the biggies.

 

 

Today, I made ONE.  A big one – today I started a new path.  

 

 

Okay, well I made more than one; some were less significant than others but still important.  It was a split second deicison made while driving to work:  I chose to skip the latte and drink tea... when I drove past Starbucks {since waiting in the line would make me late for work}. 

 Hmmm… not all decisions are so obvious.

  

This morning I answered a question at work presented by my manager (revisited from Friday) – as I gave him my affirmative answer I watched him step away with a delightful boyish grin.  Who knew?

 

His question:   “internal promotion?”   This means I agreed to take the opportunity to apply for a promotion to child support case manager when he opens the position to internal applicants only.   

 

It may seem obvious to some people that moving up the corporate (or State) ladder is a good move.  But I honestly needed time to think about whether I wanted more.  Yes, more money, but more responsibility, more phone calls, more influence, more opportunities, more … umm, DECISIONS (not more hours – same hours, to that I would easily answer, no!).  

 

 

That was what would hold up my answer.  Decisions.  Do I sell myself short and not apply because it’s more comfortable to avoid – rather than make – decisions.   Maybe this is that time in my life where all roads lead to create the person I was meant to be. 

 

I have always wanted to be a person of influence.  But when it comes to the first step… I teeter on the edge of the foothold and would rather stay uncomfortably on the edge than take that fearful step off to the possibilities of a successful outcome.

 

 

Not today. 

 

Today, along with at least 200 seemingly everyday decisions I made as a Mother (wait they are everyday things) I slid one foot off the edge and took a baby step forward.

 

Now if I can just move the other foot forward tomorrow I might actually enjoy a latte at work!

 

HonuGirl