quantum leap

This is old news to some. But exciting news, never fear.

A while back, I got a new cell phone. To say that this was a way-past-due purchase would be an understatement. That poor old phone. Oh my. The tired, old, decrepit thing would fall to pieces when touched. Every edifice was caked with mustard. Half the buttons didn’t work. It was a less than ideal situation when dealing with the majority of the general public … that has embraced the 21st century with open arms. True. It fulfilled its purpose. Of which I’m grateful. But it was right around the corner from sputtering its last breath. Seriously.

So, a new phone was purchased. With all kinds of goodies. For instance, I can now dial numbers without feeling the urge to scream expletives at the top of my lungs. I can now receive and send text messages. I can check my email. Yada Yada Yada. Big deals for me. I wonder how I ever lived before these ... ah ... modern conveniences. Before texting … where I can more or less guarantee daytime communication with my husband. The ability to get online while on the go has proved more beneficial than I had ever dreamed. Yes, I was that person that said I would never have a use for it. But, astonishingly, I have been saved – miraculously – time and time again from near-disasters. Simply because of these new treasures. I have realized, again, that modern technology is a wonderful thing. And, in realistic moderation, should be embraced. I have also realized that because of these things, I can be reached anywhere, any time … all. the. time.

And that is a two-edged sword. That stabs my heart frequently.

I’m reminded, of course, of a Seinfeld moment. A stand-up monologue that includes:

“I would say the concept behind the car phone, and the phone machine, the speaker phone, the airline phone, the portable phone, the pay phone, the cordless phone, the multi-line phone, the phone pager, the call waiting, the call forwarding, call conferencing, speed dialing, direct dialing, and the redialing … is that we all have absolutely nothing to say, and we've got to talk to someone about it right now. Cannot wait another second! I mean come on, you're at home and you're on the phone; you're in the car and you're makin' calls; you get to work, "Any messages for me?" You've got to give people a chance to miss you a little!”

Yes … this statement was made in the heighday of the 90s … and things have changed drastically since then. Heck … things have changed drastically since I was young. And I’m not that old. I remember things that would make my technology-savvy child palpitate.

I will never be without my phone. I just won’t. Unless I loose all sanity – which may happen, you never know – and just forget it. My fear of being stranded someplace or the development of an emergency situation – either involving me or someone else – is thanked for that. So … I can’t easily ‘turn my phone off’ and ‘get away from it all’. Yes … I do sometimes shudder when I hear the phone ring. Or hear the ‘bleep’, as I call it, when I receive a text message. Because, yes, I have noticed a difference. A difference in the amount of communication that comes in and out.

I’m really not complaining. I don’t really mind. Because I do appreciate the added connection to the outside world and the ones I love. But I have been reminded – and rechallenged myself – that priorities are important. Technology is grand – and vital. But so are other things. Like quiet moments. Without realistic moderation … our priorities can easily shift and crumble.

Sometimes, it pays to just let the phone ring. And the ‘bleep’, bleep. And I can do that. And still embrace technology. That’s why its home is a celery green Kate Spade case. See … I do care, after all. Just a little bit.

forget what happened then | let me live again

Let me tell you now –

Oh Momma, all I need is one more chance

to show you that I love you.

Won't you please let me

back in your heart.

Tryin' to live without your love

is one long sleepless night.

Let me show you Mom,

that I no longer bite.

Every street you walk on,

I leave tearstains on the ground.

Following the mom,

I didn't even want around.

***

He no longer bites. However, he now hits. And kicks.

Spare me of this cause … give me back what I lost.

Lyrics (adapted): I Want You Back; The Jackson 5

ten minutes ago

I had an interesting experience a couple of months ago. Something that I have neglected to share. And yet, it has never – not even once – left my mind.

Brian and I were on a rare, real date. We were eating dinner. We were talking. There was a bit of a lull in the conversation, and I looked at him. Really looked at him. And was surprised by what I saw. Almost as if I had never seen him before in my life. I’m reminded of something I heard long ago: “Are those your eyes? Is that your smile? I’ve been looking at you forever… yet I never saw you before.”

And that’s just what it was like. I was reminded in an instant that I like him a little bit. But the reminder brought a harsh realization.

I see Brian every day. And yet, I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t see him every day. There are times when days go by where we don’t really talk to one another – for no reason except our busy schedules. And because of these same distractions – and others – we don’t get many opportunities to spend one-on-one time with one another. I was reminded that we need to make more time for one another. We need to talk to one another about the monotony of our days. It is important. I’m trying hard to do better. And failing miserably. But … try I do. Frankly, I’d like to remember all the time why I married this man. Because they’re good reasons.

In that brief moment, I was reminded of what a special person he is. He is special. He is a hard worker. He is dedicated and diligent and steadfast. He is loving and kind. He is responsible. He is solid and righteous. He is a wonderful father. He is silly. He is quirky. He lets me be me … and he loves me anyway. He drives me crazy.

I love him.

And don’t tell him often enough.

An important day fast approaches … and Brian and I will celebrate our 7th anniversary. Where, pray tell, did that time go? While I’m thankful we’ll share eternity … I still feel as though time is slipping through my fingers. I wonder if the time has been spent wisely. If we’re making the most of all our time together. Because it is all important.

I remember clearly the day we met. And I know it was only about ten minutes ago. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen. And yet – though I will never understand it – it has been longer than that. Even though I can’t feel it … time marches on.

I’m reminded of a very favorite:

Ten minutes ago, I saw you.
I looked up when you came thru the door.
My head started reeling,
you gave me the feeling
the room had no ceiling or floor.

Ten minutes ago, I met you.
And we murmured our how-do-you-do's.
I wanted to ring out the bells
and fling out my arms
and to sing out the news.

I have found him!
He's an angel –
with the dust of the stars in his eyes.
We are dancing, we are flying –
and he's taking me back to the skies.

In the arms of my love, I’m flying –
over mountain and meadow and glen.
And I like it so well,
that for all I can tell,
I may never come down again!
I may never come down to earth again.

Yes. That’s exactly right.

As I reflect on our life together, I linger on the highlights. I laugh at the memories. Especially the not-so-funny-at-the-time ones. I solemnly remember the low points … and how they have come and gone. How we have worked through them, and how they have strengthened the tenor of our hearts. My whole being swells with pride – gratitude and thankfulness – as I ponder the treasures I have been blessed with. I imagine with expectation what the future holds for us. Even still, hoping it doesn’t come too soon. Because, after all … we’ve only known each other about ten minutes. Give or take.


Lyrics: For The First Time; Jud Friedman, Allen Rich, James Newton-Howard
Lyrics (adapted): Ten Minutes Ago; Rodgers and Hammerstein (Cinderella)

reaching | on my mind

There's a time I can recall –

four years old and three feet tall –

trying to touch the stars and the cookie jar,

and both were out of reach.

And later on in my high school,

it seemed to me a little cruel,

how the right words to say always seemed to stay –

just out of reach.

Well, I should not have thought it strange

that growing causes growing pains.

'Cause the more we learn, the more we know,

we don't know anything.

But still it seems a tragic fate –

living with this quiet ache.

The constant strain for what remains –
just out of reach.

We are reaching for the future.

We are reaching for the past.

And no matter what we have

we reach for more.

We are desperate to discover,

what is just beyond our grasp.

But maybe that's what heaven is for.

There are times I can't forget –
dressed up in my Sunday best –
trying not to squirm and to maybe learn,

a bit of what the teacher would teach.

And later lying in the dark –
I felt a stirring in my heart.

And though I longed to see what could not be seen –
I still believed.

I guess I shouldn't think it odd,

until we see the face of God.

The yearning deep within us tells us

there's more to come.

So when we taste of the divine,

it leaves us hungry every time –

for one more taste of what awaits

when heaven's gates are reached.

We are reaching for the future.

We are reaching for the past.

And no matter what we have

we reach for more.

We are desperate to discover,

what is just beyond our grasp.

But maybe that's what heaven is for.

I believe
that's what heaven is for.

There's a time I can recall –

four years old and three feet tall –

trying to touch the stars and the cookie jar.

And both were out of reach.

Lyrics: Reaching; Carolyn Arends

i’m going to go lie under a rock and moan and whimper

That’s a little line that I got from Boober of Fraggle Rock. I love him. And only partly because he puts words to the madness that is my mind. Because these few words adequately describe how I am feeling right now.

I’ll be climbing under a rock for unmentionable reasons – because I don’t want to talk about them. But … I’ll be moaning and whimpering because I am so dastardly sick.

I feel just like I did last Thanksgiving, in fact. That’s right. The ‘dastardly sick’ that I have literally been petrified to ever revisit. I rank it up there pretty dang close to one of my own getting a serious illness. Yes. It was that bad. And I did think I was dying … or something very near to it. This is truth. And – just like last time – I’m really not doing well.

Making this situation so much worse – is the fact that Ammon is sick, himself. He seems to be slowly on the mend, but these last few days have been rough, to say the very least. I must admit that I adore his squeaky, stuffed-up-nose voice. This aside, I hate seeing him sick. And not just because he becomes a whiny, limp, dramatic mess.

We’ve been doing a lot of this lately. And while it doesn’t effectively portray (not even close) how we are really feeling – the 101˚+ temperatures and red, flushed faces; the achy muscles and joints; the limp, lifeless hair and eyes; the raw noses and raspy breaths – it does prove that we’re still alive:


The germs continue to elude Brian. When he’s home, he takes care of us. He brings us treats. He does more than he should – considering he has so much school work to do. We’re grateful that we have him … and are even more grateful that he’s well. Though we are, honestly, a little jealous.

For the most part, I’ve been trying to ‘take it easy’. A laughable concept when you are the stay-at-home-mom of a toddler. A twitchingly moronic statement when said toddler is sick, as well. But … I’ve been doing what I can. I’ve been taking naps when Amm does. I’ve been reading a book. I’ve been enjoying the extra snuggle time. Yesterday, though, reality set in, and I tried to get some things done. Big mistake. I’ve gone downhill disturbingly fast since I went to bed last night.

I do not have time to be sick. I never really do, of course. But certainly not right now. This year has proven to be my busiest/worst yet. This holiday season is going to be implausibly insane. Just take my word for it. I can’t even wrap my head around it to begin to describe what lies ahead for me. My to-do list alone – which doesn’t cover everything, and only includes items that must be completed by November 1st – is three pages long. No. I am not exaggerating. But, believe me when I say … I wish I was.

Why is it, then, that I feel an incurable need to blog? Well … probably because my to-do list is three pages long. And I’m stalling. And I want it all to be over. And … just maybe … because some part of my subconscious wonders if it will all just take care of itself. Or disappear.

Life has taught me that it just doesn’t work that way. But it’s worth a shot, nonetheless. A long shot ... but ... whatever.

falling in love

Wise men say, “Only fools rush in.”

But I can't help, falling in love with you.

And we are in love.

Maybe it’s a little premature. Maybe we’re just hopeful that we aren’t being teased. But, it appears that fall has set in – in all its glory. And we are embracing it with open arms. So … call us fools. Fools we’ll be. Gladly.

'Beautiful' doesn’t do it justice. Heaven only compares. It’s a time of the year that finds us yearning to be outdoors. Breathing in the striking creations of our loving Heavenly Father. I don’t understand how anyone can observe this lovely season … and even question that there is something behind it all.

While our fall may not be as eye-catching as falls in other corners of the world … it is ours. It is what we love, and what we look forward to every year. It is the beginning of the colder months. The header to the holiday season. Truly – our favorite time of the year.

It is during the fall season that we really miss living in the country. Making our hearts ache for our old, first home. The sights, the smells, and the sensations of the season draw us back there. More often during this time of the year, we can be found in that special place. Going on walks. Breathing it all in. And we’ll continue to do so … throughout the winter. Yes, we are those people that are going on walks, walking through pastures, trekking amongst memories … when everyone else is bundled up inside.

I’ve found that this season has begun just the same. And yet, there is a subtle difference. It’s a heady thing, walking those grounds now. I have felt, in so many instances this last month, that we are not alone. And I don’t believe that we are. I know that we are merely rubbing elbows with those on the other side. Those that we can not see … but can feel. Those that cherish that earth just as much.

We had the chance to take one of these such walks while down at Brian’s parents last Sunday. And I tried – more than usual – to soak up those feelings. To feel the presence of those we are waiting to see again. I found it wasn’t tremendously difficult – I just needed to close my mind off to the other things. The busy things. The worldly things. The unimportant things.

This little exercise also produced other results. The purpose for our walk was so that I could take some pictures of the changing, fall leaves. Like I always do. Because, yes … they are pretty. And because it’s just something that you do in the fall. And yet, as we were taking that little romp through the countryside, little things started popping up all over the place … here and there and everywhere in between. Things that I’ve noticed a million and one times before – other telltale signs of fall. And yet, it was as if I was seeing these things with new eyes. And I knew in an instant, that it was because of my new-found sense. Being able to notice the small things hidden under the overwhelming weariness of life. And I was again grateful for it. And continue to be.

I’m reminded of a quote I read the other day:

"I've found that photography has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them." [Erwitt]

Luckily, my camera was an extension of myself that day … and I could funnel that energy into something worthwhile. Or at least I think so.

So, here’s to my challenge to see things a little differently. Here’s to the lure of the countryside. Here’s to those we’re missing during this season. Here’s to falling in love with fall.

I end where I began:

Wise men say, “Only fools rush in.”
But I can't help, falling in love with you.
Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?
If I can't help, falling in love with you.

Like a river flows surely to the sea;
darling, so it goes –
some things are meant to be.
Take my hand … take my whole life too.
For I can't help, falling in love with you.

Lyrics: (Can’t Help) Falling In Love With You; Weiss, Peretti, Creatore

my life: the gothic novel

You want an explanation as to why I have been so silent? You really, really want one?

Okay, then. Here it is.


Add to this already be-a-utiful equation: one screaming, naked almost-three-year old; twenty-five DVDs, smudged and clawed past recognition; dust bunnies the size of Secretariat; about fifty in-process projects all over the house … inside and out (yes, I did mean ‘fifty’); partially arranged Halloween decorations; eight decoration boxes stacked in my bedroom, to include one Christmas box … and all the spring/summer decorations that need to be stored … and the piles of everyday décor that are not being used during the holidays; one empty Oreo package; Oreo crumbs sprinkled wherever I have been sitting; very notable divots in our hardwood floors … caused by thrown Hotwheels; one couch cushion successfully ripped from the back of the couch; the aftermath of ‘the’ crock-pot fiasco of last Sunday; an empty Excedrin bottle ... because the almost-three-year old tantrum stomping is really getting on my nerves; and a dismantled wireless router. Do that, and you can begin to get a more complete picture of life when you’re part of the Thomases Three.

Hope you’re happy.

Seriously, though. We’ve been a little preoccupied of late. I’m working towards a full recovery of my lackluster blogging. And the gratification of all my previous lame, vain promises. Really … I mean it this time. Mainly because I need to clean off my harddrive.

So, until then. If you see an impressively large mushroom cloud looming over Abbeville … just ignore it. Or blame it on the brush burning that’s been going on lately. Which is forcing me to contemplate purchasing stock in Kleenex. And, if you see a woman that looks arguably like me, running maniacally down the street … please turn me in. I may just prefer a padded cell right now. At least it would be quiet … and maybe clean.

And I want to start potty training? I must be out of my mind. Or something like it.

the mitchell family | sneak peek

My annual photo shoot with one of my favorite families has come and gone. And what a wonderful afternoon it turned out to be.

We had a bit of a rocky start … as is usually custom when working with little ones. Especially little ones that happen to be boys … and who are much more interested in attempting to jump from great heights, throw sand, locate every bit of rust on tattered rail ties, and find the perfect stick-turned-lightsaber.

But … after a short while … magic happened. Like catching lightning in a bottle. And it was magical. Just like a family should be.

The weather that afternoon was simply divine. Absolutely delicious. A wonderful fall day, complete with a breeze and crisp air. We started at one of my new favorite locations and then moved on to my very favorite spot, before heading over to the Public Transportation Station (a f.a.bulous old railway station). I’ve always wanted to do some photos there … so I jumped for joy when this bunch was game. The boys were getting tired, naturally … but wanting to hit that last location, I opted for bribery. No … I’m not above it … and I’m woman enough to admit it. I’ve found that the lure of a glimpse at a train seems to work every time if you have two X chromosomes (let’s not forget the Hotwheels that filled my bag). What I didn’t expect, though, upon arriving … was for there to r.e.a.l.l.y be trains there. And moving trains to boot. Trains moving cars loaded with rock. Now, I ask you … do I deliver … or do I deliver?

This photo shoot was a big turning point for me. Opened up a whole new world … and was the start of big things. For many reasons. I won’t elaborate on that, because … well … it would bore you. More than likely. There are maybe only two people that would care about these details. Actually, ‘two’ probably also describes how many are reading this post at all. But … I digress.

I need to thank Brian and Ammon for tagging along for this shoot. Honestly ... we couldn't have done it without the two of you (especially that Ammon ... saying, "Cheese" and 'snapping' his fingers while shouting, "Look here, Rukas!" (Lucas)). And, of course ... I want to thank the Mitchell’s for – yet another – joyous afternoon. I’m always thankful for the time I get to spend with this family. Forever capturing their beautiful faces – like catching lightning in a bottle – is just an added bonus. It’s a bonus that I’m glad to accept. Any day.

Truth. I felt the effects of that very long day when I finally wandered to bed that night. A full day filled with General Conference, Brian’s 10-page paper on the ‘Cost of Hospitalization in Relationship to Medication Non-Compliance’ (say that 3 times fast), strawberry fruit snacks, hand sanitizer, very loud trains … and a Goodyear blimp. A tiring day … that was more than worth it in my book. I hope they agree. Enjoy.


This shot is more or less an outtake, of sorts. But it brings a smile to my face. Sweet Brian Jr. started pointing at something over my head. And was so intent on said something … that I really started to wonder what in the world was on my head. Becky started laughing … whether at the disembodied voice coming from behind the lens, “What’s on my head … Someone please tell me what’s on my head …”, or not, I don’t know. I soon realized that there was a Goodyear blimp buzzing around the Dothan skies. And … for some reason … was hovering over me. For a long time. And yes … once I realized nothing had set up house amongst my roots … it was funny. And that Lucas and his precious cheeser-smile. Ah ... again with the magic.


We learned early on (try right away), that there was just going to be too much darn distraction with all those moving trains. But it did prove to offer several impromptu moments of enchantment. Like this one:


And this one. Only in the South, when you wave at someone … to include a train conductor … they wave back.

the mitchell family | teaser

Stay tuned for more ...

47 days

http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi2799962393/