The way I see it, there are two types of kids: Kids who are bad in front of your face, and kids who are bad behind your back.
As much as I hate to admit it, I was the sneaky kid...unfortunately (or fortunately, as my almost 40 year old self sees it now), I almost always got caught.
Sammy is my "what you see is what you get, bad in front of your face" kid. I'll tell him not to do something and I can almost see those wheels start turning immediately. If he feels like whacking the fool out of his sister is worth the time-out...well, Gracie better be ready to duck.
Gracie, on the other hand, is my sneak. Her classic line when asked if she did something: "I don't remember". Homegirl has had a head circumference in the 99% as long as I've known her, and plenty of brains underneath. Playing dumb = Sneaky. Luckily, she's also been "blessed" with the get caught gene.
Our latest battle has been over the TV show "Fuller House". Like every good 80's child, I loved Full House growing up, and thought it was great seeing it brought back to life. Well, I thought it was great until DJ and the gang started telling my 7 and 4 year old about the birds and the bees. And drugs. And making out. And just can we go back to watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse please?
Anyway, Fuller House was removed from the rotation at the Harris household, permanently. Or, until my poor unsuspecting mother watched the kids for me one day. When I called to check in and she said they were watching a show Gracie wanted to watch, and then I heard Gracie frantically hollering in the background "I don't want to watch this anymore!!!!", the jig was up. As were her dessert privileges for the week (Yes, we eat dessert every night. You only live once, eat the m&ms).
So, we move along to this weekend when Gracie had her second ever spend the night at a friend's. We discussed how house rules still apply. WWMD (What would Mama Do?) All seemed to have been a success when I picked Gracie and her friend up the next day to do a little school project shopping at Michael's.
We'd just reached the checkout line where People magazine just so happened to be doing a front cover feature on Lori Loughlin.
"Oh, look," Gracie's little friend pointed out good old Aunt Becky, "there's that lady from the show you made us watch!"
I wish I had a camera to capture the look on the little sneak's face right that moment. Been there sister...and so will you, every.time. you lie to your mama.
Last night we had a long talk about trust and the privileges that come along with that trust. And in the end, Gracie may have gotten exactly what she wanted. She's not going to be having any spend the night parties for quite some time...you might even say, for the foreseeable future, its going to be a much Fuller House.
Monday, August 26, 2019
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
A Moment Like This
I was recently asked to serve on a committee at our church. I think this is probably something that happens a lot as your kids get older and you become more invested in their faith walk and who is helping guide it. In other words, there's a sucker born every day.
Anyway, the day of our first committee meeting Parke was out of town, I had no babysitter and it was approximately 1000 degrees. Needless to say, we rolled up to the church 5 minutes late. Things were going well.
The sweet lady in the reception area offered to watch Gracie and Sam and directed me to the "parlor", where the rest of the group was already in session. Not familiar with that area of the church I asked for directions.
As it turns out, the parlor is a little area to the side of the church where they hold Boy Scout meetings and gather before weddings...and funerals. The last time I'd been in the parlor, with no presence of mind to ask what it was called or anything else for that matter, was just before Rip's funeral.
I am amazed as human beings how life is made up of so many moments like this. Moments where you are literally thrown into a room that holds some of the worst memories of your life and yet we smile, nod, pull out our pens, and get to work.
Everyone has a "parlor" or two or three. A road, a house, a hospital room where their lives changed forever. But somehow we keep moving. We keep showing up. We keep going.
What felt like much later the door cracked open and two slightly disheveled children were deposited back to me. Smiling and shy, and smelling damp and sweet - I couldn't help but wonder if there was a ghost of a girl 9 years before still somewhere in this parlor. Stuck wondering if she would ever get a moment just like this.
Anyway, the day of our first committee meeting Parke was out of town, I had no babysitter and it was approximately 1000 degrees. Needless to say, we rolled up to the church 5 minutes late. Things were going well.
The sweet lady in the reception area offered to watch Gracie and Sam and directed me to the "parlor", where the rest of the group was already in session. Not familiar with that area of the church I asked for directions.
As it turns out, the parlor is a little area to the side of the church where they hold Boy Scout meetings and gather before weddings...and funerals. The last time I'd been in the parlor, with no presence of mind to ask what it was called or anything else for that matter, was just before Rip's funeral.
I am amazed as human beings how life is made up of so many moments like this. Moments where you are literally thrown into a room that holds some of the worst memories of your life and yet we smile, nod, pull out our pens, and get to work.
Everyone has a "parlor" or two or three. A road, a house, a hospital room where their lives changed forever. But somehow we keep moving. We keep showing up. We keep going.
What felt like much later the door cracked open and two slightly disheveled children were deposited back to me. Smiling and shy, and smelling damp and sweet - I couldn't help but wonder if there was a ghost of a girl 9 years before still somewhere in this parlor. Stuck wondering if she would ever get a moment just like this.
Saturday, November 18, 2017
Go After It
Today marks seven years since Rip left this earth.
He was alive for seven days- people often make a big fuss over how God could have created the universe in seven days, but I can certainly see how whole worlds can be created in just such a time.
In 2010, I could not have imagined making it through seven minutes, much less seven years, but here we are.
Earlier this year, Gracie attended a vacation bible school where the motto was, "Do Good, Seek Peace, and Go After It".
That little phrase stuck to my heart as exactly what I've been trying to do since Rip died. My life is spent trying to be a better person, to seek out the good, in his name.
In the last couple of weeks I've seen a challenge on social media, asking people to display seven photos that represent their life. I've said time and again that our life- which is a very good life- is what it is because of Rip Harris. We would not have Gracie and Sam without him, Parke and I would not be nearly as kind to one another without him and I would not have learned to be brave without him. He changed us in all the ways we could be changed.
So here are seven pictures of our life today, seven years later.
Do Good. Seek Peace. Go After It.
He was alive for seven days- people often make a big fuss over how God could have created the universe in seven days, but I can certainly see how whole worlds can be created in just such a time.
In 2010, I could not have imagined making it through seven minutes, much less seven years, but here we are.
Earlier this year, Gracie attended a vacation bible school where the motto was, "Do Good, Seek Peace, and Go After It".
That little phrase stuck to my heart as exactly what I've been trying to do since Rip died. My life is spent trying to be a better person, to seek out the good, in his name.
In the last couple of weeks I've seen a challenge on social media, asking people to display seven photos that represent their life. I've said time and again that our life- which is a very good life- is what it is because of Rip Harris. We would not have Gracie and Sam without him, Parke and I would not be nearly as kind to one another without him and I would not have learned to be brave without him. He changed us in all the ways we could be changed.
So here are seven pictures of our life today, seven years later.
Do Good. Seek Peace. Go After It.
Saturday, November 11, 2017
I Will Carry You
Dear Rip,
When I think of you, I think of fried chicken...and sweet tea...and Grey's Anatomy. While we existed in our little cocoon of hospital life for the most part it was just you and me, Bubba. And while that time was certainly stressful, it was also very sweet. And maybe a little unhealthy. But you were safe in my belly, Meredith Grey provided an escape from our worries and quite frankly that hospital could give the Colonel a run for his money in the chicken and tea department.
It was a little shocking then, once you were on the outside and I watched them wheel you away. Something that had literally been a part of me for all of those weeks now seemed a little bit...other. That feeling of otherness immediately washed away the minute I held you in my arms. You were once again so totally mine and a feeling came over me, as I've described before, as simply "Heaven".
When you had to leave me again, I fought so hard against the "otherness". It was the hardest thing I've ever been through, not to have you here with me. But somehow, over the seven years (seven!!!) little boy, you are with me again. There is not one thing- not one- that I do you are not a part of. Not a decision I make as a mother, as a wife, as a person who tries to leave the world a better place. That is all because I carry you inside of me. Just as I did all of those months and weeks seven years ago.
Over time I've come to realize - I will always, always carry you Rip Harris. No matter where you are.
Happy Birthday- I hope there is plenty of fried chicken and sweet tea (you are still too young for Grey's Anatomy).
Love,
Your Mama
When I think of you, I think of fried chicken...and sweet tea...and Grey's Anatomy. While we existed in our little cocoon of hospital life for the most part it was just you and me, Bubba. And while that time was certainly stressful, it was also very sweet. And maybe a little unhealthy. But you were safe in my belly, Meredith Grey provided an escape from our worries and quite frankly that hospital could give the Colonel a run for his money in the chicken and tea department.
It was a little shocking then, once you were on the outside and I watched them wheel you away. Something that had literally been a part of me for all of those weeks now seemed a little bit...other. That feeling of otherness immediately washed away the minute I held you in my arms. You were once again so totally mine and a feeling came over me, as I've described before, as simply "Heaven".
When you had to leave me again, I fought so hard against the "otherness". It was the hardest thing I've ever been through, not to have you here with me. But somehow, over the seven years (seven!!!) little boy, you are with me again. There is not one thing- not one- that I do you are not a part of. Not a decision I make as a mother, as a wife, as a person who tries to leave the world a better place. That is all because I carry you inside of me. Just as I did all of those months and weeks seven years ago.
Over time I've come to realize - I will always, always carry you Rip Harris. No matter where you are.
Happy Birthday- I hope there is plenty of fried chicken and sweet tea (you are still too young for Grey's Anatomy).
Love,
Your Mama
Thursday, August 17, 2017
The Plan
Dear Gracie,
Last night, while I was giving you a bath, you asked me in a very small voice what I thought you would be doing on your first day of kindergarten.
Your question took me a little bit by surprise, because all day you'd been SO EXCITED about starting your new school. Bouncing around the room while meeting your teacher, not holding my hand as we walked in the class...you are so brave.
But we are very alike in this way- the unknown is very hard, isn't it baby girl? We like a plan. We like to know what we are doing in each minute of each day until someone picks us up at 2:20 pm and then we like to plan what we will have for a snack. Because, eating is something else we like to do.
And while I can, and did to the best of my abilities, fill in the gaps of what you will face on your first day of kindergarten the truth is that I don't know. And that can be a little bit scary. For mamas and for little girls.
Here is what I do know-I've been in lots of new situations and despite all of my best efforts sometimes they didn't go exactly as I planned. But you know what? They turned out okay.
For example, a teeny secret I will tell you only because you do not officially know how to read yet...Mama doesn't really know what she is doing all of the time with you and your brother. I don't always have a plan. But with a whole lot of love and a whole lot of Jesus (and your Daddy, he helps) we seem to be doing okay.
So that's the best plan I can give you for this year. Lots of love (for everyone- there is plenty to go around), lots of Jesus, and your mama and daddy.
The rest is a little unknown and that's okay. Except that someone will be there to pick you up at 2:20 and then we will have a snack. That I do know.
You are the best little girl in the world and you always will be.
Love,
Your Mama.
Last night, while I was giving you a bath, you asked me in a very small voice what I thought you would be doing on your first day of kindergarten.
Your question took me a little bit by surprise, because all day you'd been SO EXCITED about starting your new school. Bouncing around the room while meeting your teacher, not holding my hand as we walked in the class...you are so brave.
But we are very alike in this way- the unknown is very hard, isn't it baby girl? We like a plan. We like to know what we are doing in each minute of each day until someone picks us up at 2:20 pm and then we like to plan what we will have for a snack. Because, eating is something else we like to do.
And while I can, and did to the best of my abilities, fill in the gaps of what you will face on your first day of kindergarten the truth is that I don't know. And that can be a little bit scary. For mamas and for little girls.
Here is what I do know-I've been in lots of new situations and despite all of my best efforts sometimes they didn't go exactly as I planned. But you know what? They turned out okay.
For example, a teeny secret I will tell you only because you do not officially know how to read yet...Mama doesn't really know what she is doing all of the time with you and your brother. I don't always have a plan. But with a whole lot of love and a whole lot of Jesus (and your Daddy, he helps) we seem to be doing okay.
So that's the best plan I can give you for this year. Lots of love (for everyone- there is plenty to go around), lots of Jesus, and your mama and daddy.
The rest is a little unknown and that's okay. Except that someone will be there to pick you up at 2:20 and then we will have a snack. That I do know.
You are the best little girl in the world and you always will be.
Love,
Your Mama.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
The Sound of Sunshine, Part II
Gracie starts kindergarten next week. I'm fine with it...really, I am. No, I mean really I was fine with it until this morning when I dropped her off for the next to last day at Pre-K.
I got in the car and of course the song, "Sound of Sunshine", came on- the song that basically carried me through my pregnancy with this child who is somehow now GOING TO KINDERGARTEN!
I allowed myself a few nostalgic tears and then thought back to the beginning of this blog. I remembered titling a blog post "Sound of Sunshine", so I got curious and looked it up. You can find it below.
Its easy to forget to have faith sometimes- especially for someone like me who doesn't like change (this is the understatement of the century). Its nice to have a reminder.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6-8-2011
After Rip passed away, one of my first thoughts was how much I wanted to have children. Sometime in those first grief-stricken weeks I circled a date on the calendar, April 21, 2011. It was the 111th day of the year and, as you know, the number 11 is special to me because it reminds me of Rip. I decided that was the day I would be pregnant again... and yes, I may have been slightly drugged at the time.
April 21st rolled around and I took a pregnancy test...it was negative. An emotional day got even worse when I heard a song on the radio that reminded me of Rip. It's kind of a cheesy Michael Franti song, but there is a line in it..."here i am, waiting for this storm to pass my by and that's the sound of sunshine coming down" that I hung on to during Rip's pregnancy. Now it just seemed like another kick while I was down.
But then, the whole "sound of sunshine coming down" part started to stick in my head. I came home, looked at Parke, and said "I am going to get another pregnancy test" (ever the practical one, he said, "great, grab me a Snickers").
This time a positive line started to show...and then disappeared. I was devastated.
I felt like I literally could not take one more minute of this, it was the lowest I have felt since we lost Rip. Not knowing what else to do, I got on my knees and prayed. I kid you not when I say a rainbow appeared shortly after I stood up.
The next day I received another positive test...this one stuck. I am now almost 11 weeks pregnant. To say that I am happy about it would be an understatement.
And yet...I am so scared.
Even though I truly believe this baby is a miracle, a God-given blessing, I am afraid.
So I very selfishly ask for your prayers. Being Rip's mother has taught me so many things, not the least of which is the power of having others believe for you when you are not strong enough to do it yourself.
I am trying to enjoy every day, to be grateful every day for this little bit of "sunshine" who will be so loved by her (just guessing here...but "her" feels right) family and, I believe, has a very special angel guiding her way.
I am so thankful for my family, my friends and, most especially, my children.
I got in the car and of course the song, "Sound of Sunshine", came on- the song that basically carried me through my pregnancy with this child who is somehow now GOING TO KINDERGARTEN!
I allowed myself a few nostalgic tears and then thought back to the beginning of this blog. I remembered titling a blog post "Sound of Sunshine", so I got curious and looked it up. You can find it below.
Its easy to forget to have faith sometimes- especially for someone like me who doesn't like change (this is the understatement of the century). Its nice to have a reminder.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6-8-2011
After Rip passed away, one of my first thoughts was how much I wanted to have children. Sometime in those first grief-stricken weeks I circled a date on the calendar, April 21, 2011. It was the 111th day of the year and, as you know, the number 11 is special to me because it reminds me of Rip. I decided that was the day I would be pregnant again... and yes, I may have been slightly drugged at the time.
April 21st rolled around and I took a pregnancy test...it was negative. An emotional day got even worse when I heard a song on the radio that reminded me of Rip. It's kind of a cheesy Michael Franti song, but there is a line in it..."here i am, waiting for this storm to pass my by and that's the sound of sunshine coming down" that I hung on to during Rip's pregnancy. Now it just seemed like another kick while I was down.
But then, the whole "sound of sunshine coming down" part started to stick in my head. I came home, looked at Parke, and said "I am going to get another pregnancy test" (ever the practical one, he said, "great, grab me a Snickers").
This time a positive line started to show...and then disappeared. I was devastated.
I felt like I literally could not take one more minute of this, it was the lowest I have felt since we lost Rip. Not knowing what else to do, I got on my knees and prayed. I kid you not when I say a rainbow appeared shortly after I stood up.
The next day I received another positive test...this one stuck. I am now almost 11 weeks pregnant. To say that I am happy about it would be an understatement.
And yet...I am so scared.
Even though I truly believe this baby is a miracle, a God-given blessing, I am afraid.
So I very selfishly ask for your prayers. Being Rip's mother has taught me so many things, not the least of which is the power of having others believe for you when you are not strong enough to do it yourself.
I am trying to enjoy every day, to be grateful every day for this little bit of "sunshine" who will be so loved by her (just guessing here...but "her" feels right) family and, I believe, has a very special angel guiding her way.
I am so thankful for my family, my friends and, most especially, my children.
Thursday, July 27, 2017
My Rainbow
You know how sometimes you have that feeling of dread, and you can't quite put your finger on what's causing it. I hate that. And I've been having it a lot lately.
Things have happened to people I know and love that aren't fair. There are children who have been hurt, some who have died. Don't even get me started on the news...
So my heart has been heavy, and anxious. And maybe this makes me not a very good Christian but when everything feel out of control like this, I need a reminder that God is in control.
Yesterday was full of passing (literal) storms to accompany the mental ones, so I tossed up a prayer, suggesting maybe my old pal the rainbow would be really helpful in times like these.
I stood outside for a while, ignoring passing neighbors wondering why the h I was standing out in the rain, waiting for my sign to appear. It didn't.
And because I am borderline obsessive, what started out as a little "Hey, God, it sure would be nice if..." now became a full-on mental/spiritual breakdown. I stood outside for an hour in the drizzle until finally shuffled in with nothing but the start of a migraine to show for it.
Wiping away my tears, I started cleaning the kid's artwork up while ushering them into the bath. As they ran away I picked up the picture Gracie drew for me- a very flattering depiction of the two of us, holding hands with " I LOVE YOU", written underneath.
On the back she'd drawn a huge rainbow.
This morning I told Gracie the whole story, how I'd been praying and asked God for a rainbow and she gleefully got to the punchline before I did, knowing she'd been the one to provide it.
Sammy, quickly closing in on my (insert sarcasm here) favorite age of the three is not pleased by much these days, and asked darkly, "Why'd Dod do dat?"
Gracie said, "Because Mama needed a rainbow."
Then she paused.
"But Mama...God is listening to you even if He doesn't show you a rainbow"
And I think maybe that right there was my rainbow.
Things have happened to people I know and love that aren't fair. There are children who have been hurt, some who have died. Don't even get me started on the news...
So my heart has been heavy, and anxious. And maybe this makes me not a very good Christian but when everything feel out of control like this, I need a reminder that God is in control.
Yesterday was full of passing (literal) storms to accompany the mental ones, so I tossed up a prayer, suggesting maybe my old pal the rainbow would be really helpful in times like these.
I stood outside for a while, ignoring passing neighbors wondering why the h I was standing out in the rain, waiting for my sign to appear. It didn't.
And because I am borderline obsessive, what started out as a little "Hey, God, it sure would be nice if..." now became a full-on mental/spiritual breakdown. I stood outside for an hour in the drizzle until finally shuffled in with nothing but the start of a migraine to show for it.
Wiping away my tears, I started cleaning the kid's artwork up while ushering them into the bath. As they ran away I picked up the picture Gracie drew for me- a very flattering depiction of the two of us, holding hands with " I LOVE YOU", written underneath.
On the back she'd drawn a huge rainbow.
This morning I told Gracie the whole story, how I'd been praying and asked God for a rainbow and she gleefully got to the punchline before I did, knowing she'd been the one to provide it.
Sammy, quickly closing in on my (insert sarcasm here) favorite age of the three is not pleased by much these days, and asked darkly, "Why'd Dod do dat?"
Gracie said, "Because Mama needed a rainbow."
Then she paused.
"But Mama...God is listening to you even if He doesn't show you a rainbow"
And I think maybe that right there was my rainbow.
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