You will be praised

Who can find a virtuous woman? She is far more precious than jewels...
Strength and honor are her clothing, and she can laugh at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and loving instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the activities of her household and is never idle.
Her sons rise up and call her blessed.
He husband also praises her:
Many women are capable, but you surpass them all!
Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.
~Proverbs 31:10, 25-30


  This verse is for all my sisters.  It made me thin of all of you this week.  I will not lie, Monday was very trying day for me.  The stress if sending both my babies to a new school about undid me.  But through out the day starting bright and early the wonderful sisterhood of mothers I am friends with carried me.  I had so many kind words, texts, hugs, messages and my phone never quit ringing.  I'm praising each of you, and from the bottom of my heart thank you.
   Who knew that having children would lead to having the most meaningful friendships?  I thought that when Sweetness and I decided to have kids we would increase our family one child at a time, not by bushels and bunches.  Motherhood has brought me to my knees on more than one occasion, but I always seem to find someone else down on her knees praying right there with me.
    I am so thankful for each of you who felt the anxiety of the first day of school with me. I hate that you have gone through it, but thank you for guiding me.  Thank you for sharing your experiences and a laugh with me.  I talk with my Sweetness, I told him all about my fears but he just didn't "get it" like mothers do.  This is why no matter how close I am with him I will always need my friends.  Our hearts share the pain and triumph held in each day of our children's lives. 
    
Thanks girls, you mean the world to me.

It's finally here....

   It's finally here, the last day of summer.  My children start school on Monday.  We've all waited all summer for this, talked about it and looked forward to it.  I take it all back.  I am not looking forward to it at all.  I do want my kids to be able to meet more friends, and Tate is so excited to be a Kindergartner, but what about me?
      I'm realizing that my kids truly are my best friends.  I do not strive to be their "friend".  I try to be their mother, teacher, example, and even their disciplinarian, but not their friend.  That sounds mean, but I want to "train them up in the way they should go", not spoil or indulge their every want.  I always thought I'd be best friends with my kids when they were older but it turns out that time is right now. 
      This summer has brought on a lot of challenges to our family, and in turn many discussions.  Two deaths in our family and an incredibly painful move cross country.  So we have talked about every thing from being old, to cancer, to sad hearts and how our friends will still be our friends even if we can't see them that often.  Because of this move we have all had to become each other's friend more so than we were in Macon.  In Macon we all had best friends, heck they lived right next door.  But now the kids rely more on each other and have played more together this summer than they ever have.  I have been invited into their play time too and it's been wonderful.  But more than that I've had to open up and be very honest with my children about my heart.  I've not hidden anything from them about how sad I was about moving and when my Aunt Marsha was sick and dieing I had to explain why I was so sad.  To be comforted by my seven year old son and five year old daughter, it was like  hugs from angels.  They got it and understood because of how much they love their Aunt Tabba. 
    Now summer is over, so are our days of exploration of new places.  I know this will become our new normal and I can not wait to see how they flourish in a new school.  My kids love other kids, love going somewhere new, and the only reason you aren't their friend is because they haven't met you yet.  They are so much better at this moving thing than I am. 
     This new chapter also leaves me feeling kind of useless.  Both my babies will be in school, what am I supposed to do with my days now?  I guess this is a feeling every stay at home mom has.  I will volunteer more at school, I will go to more school lunches, I will cook more, clean more, do better with my grocery shopping and couponing.  But all the while I'll be missing my two little shadows.  I feel as if I finally need to grow up and get a job.  But after talking with Sweetness, it doesn't make sense for our family.  His work schedule allows very little time for kid activities.  I am the only parent able to attend 90% of all that they do and we don't have back up grandmas and grandpas to step in and get the kids from school or practice if one of us is late.  So I'll put off growing up for a a little while longer. 
     Monday will come, I will pack lunches and take pictures.  We will walk in and hug goodbye, then pay no attention to me as I walk out, because I will be a crying hot mess. But Tuesday will be easier and by Friday it will be our new normal.  I will pray for my kids, their teachers, their classmates, and my own selfish heart.  I am so thankful that God gave me such adaptive kids, I am blessed beyond measure.  So bring on school, who knows what wonderful adventures it will hold for the Currier Family.

Filling in the void

   I read a quote last night that really made me think. It was talking about he hole left after an organ is removed and how the body fills in the gap.  Blood and fluid fill the space and tissue builds.  The book was referencing how this is the same as loosing a family member.  The gap is painful, seems insurmountable, and then the body forces something else into the empty space. 
   After my rib was taken out just touching the skin on my chest was extremely painful.  Like couldn't even wear a delicate silver chain kind of painful.  The space under my skin where the newly missing rib was soft, not at all solid and strong like it had once been.  But over the course of the next year my body filled in the space.  My chest wall again became hard, no gap is noticeable.  I can only see where the rib is missing during workouts when doing a few exercises. 
     This is a lot like loosing a family member.  Unfortunately we've had two huge losses for my family this year.  First Brad's sweet grandmother, then last month my Aunt Marsha.  While Brad's grandmother had lived a long full life, my Aunt Marsha was struck down in the prime of hers with liver cancer.  Over the past few weeks since her funeral my mind has been struggling to right itself and fill in the void. 
    I look at her picture often so I can remember how she really looked, not how I saw her in the last days of her life.  Frail and small, ravaged by an evil disease is not how I want to remember her.  I want to remember her grinning devilishly over a hand of cards, laughing while she played a wild Canasta and ticked off the men's team.  I want to remember her driving me to school every day of my childhood.  She would drive the station wagon while eating a sandwich in the most irritating way, circularly until all that was left was a small quarter sized bite.  Who does that?  I want to remember the way she helped with everything at my wedding.  With very little notice or planning my parents threw together a great wedding, and she was there helping every step of the way.  I want to remember how much she loved my kids and was always so happy to see them.  Every time we came home for a visit, with in five minutes of walking through my parents' door I would hear Aunt Marsha and Uncle Larry pull up on their Ranger, ready to hug me and the kids. 
    My family is small, my mother is an only child and my dad has two brothers.  I technically have two aunts.  One I saw a little bit when I was very small but then they moved and very seldom attended any family functions.  So much so that she didn't know who I was when I saw her at the hospital when my grandmother was dieing.  My Aunt Marsha on the other hand lived next door, drove me to school every day til I was old enough to drive myself.  She and my Uncle Larry brought us swimming to the creek many times every summer.  We camped at our favorite state park with our families RVs next to each other every year.  While camping we ate dinner together every night and then would get into very heated card game, Rook or Canasta, and finish the night with a very loud game of Mexican train.  Some of my happiest memories are at Percy Quin park around a camp table.
    Since I haven't lived "at home" in over a decade aunt Marsha's loss won't be the same for me as it will for everyone at home.  I won't see her presence being missed in every day life.  I won't notice the empty pew at church every week where she usually sat.  But I  feel her loss just as powerfully.  She was such a huge part of my childhood.  As an adult I loved her as my friend.  We still played cards every visit home and she loved to enrage my husband when the ladies team won.  Sweetness loved Aunt Marsha too.  They had a funny relationship.  He picked on her relentlessly and she loved to irritate him.  I always said he could smell the "mother of boys" smell on her.
    Seeing her tiny and frail yet keeping her optimism was a testament to what an awesome person she was.  The last time I hugged her she was so small, and she had never before been tiny in my mind.  But now she is no longer frail or sick,no longer weak and strong and whole is how I am choosing to remember her. I can still see the gleam in her eye when she played cards.  I still see the smile on her face when she hugged my babies and treated them like her own grandchildren.
I am so blessed to have had such an awesome lady as my Aunt, my neighbor, and my friend.