tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87652281332488011752024-03-14T01:20:42.961-07:00Just a ThoughtA daily column devoted to all the real aspects of life- From being a mother, wife or daughter to simply paying the bills- we all live it.. might as well share it. : )Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-46202490479626608152013-07-19T20:11:00.000-07:002013-07-19T20:11:14.509-07:00Wonder YearsEvery summer, when we hit that mid-way point and start to prepare for my kids to go back to school, I think back to my school age years and the summers that went with them.
I think back to getting excited about the look of new notebooks and pencils and a chance to get new clothes and shoes. I think back to the summers' nearing end of hackling with my sisters over who had to wash the last of the spoons.
I am the middle child, the middle girl. My older sister, Sherry, is two years older and my younger one, Lisa, is five years younger. We spent our summers at home. My mama and daddy both worked and the seemed-to-be, never ending days, were spent with the three of us playing house, romping around outside in the woods and then spending the last hour before Mama came home, flying into our "to do" list. Each day, we were expected to do a handful of chores. They weren't much and if they were spread out over the course of the entire day, they wouldn't have been bad at all- but we just weren't those kind of kids. We were the kind to glance at the clock and see it was 3:25 and Mama would get off work at 4:00 and be home exactly at 4:08 each day. We knew we had precisely 43 minutes to fold the laundry, vacuum and get the dishes done or we were "gonna get it". Well, none of us wanted that. We would count the cups, count the pots, count the plates and even the spoons. We would divide them up by three and Heaven forbid if we overlooked one laying in one of our bedrooms and the last one to take their turn washing had to do an extra. We would literally hide the extra one under a pot holder not to have to do one more than the others did. We would have our knock out, drag out fights where we actually would hit and kick and scratch. I was the hitter, Lisa the kicker and Sherry the scratcher. We would agree to make up for the sake of not getting a spanking when Mama got home. We would come up with some sort of story to how we got our wounds and would try to get it by Mama. We spent our summers eating cans of Ravioli and making up games to play. Since me and Sherry were close to the same age, we would do our share of secret sharing and Lisa would get mad. She was the best at working over Mama to feel bad for her. I was the best at arguing. Sherry tended to be the peace maker. Actually, she tended to get ran over more than any of us. I remember feeling so defensive when it came to her, which is odd being I was younger. She was my sister. My confidant. As mad as she made me and as much as her "smacking" when she ate got on my nerves, I loved her. I literally fought for her- a few times. I would for Lisa too, and did, but she had her ways of taking care of herself too. I remember one time when she gave me a "present". We had gotten into an argument during one of those long summer days. She was talking about some girl and called her a "prince". I of course, had to laugh and point out that girls were "princesses", boys were the princes. She swore she had said princess and got so mad at me for laughing at her. We got into a huge argument about it. About an hour later, she brought me a shoe box with a note attached to the top explaining how she was sorry and wanted to let me know how she felt. A sort of peace offering. Well, I opened the box hoping for her best pair of earrings or something. Guess what my surprise was? A turd. No, really. It was an honest to gosh turd... still steaming. She had boxed up crap to let me know how she really felt about me. Yep. She had such a "touching" way with words.
Those years, those summers, listening to the dual tape deck with my sisters, jumping off buckets under the water hose (don't try this at home, just ask Sherry how long she had to wear a cast) and practicing braids on each others hair was some of the best years of my life. I remember Sherry's long, angled finger nails digging into my skin in self defense. I remember Lisa's on going requests to play Barbies with her and us making our Barbie Dreamhouse out of a box with not-so-neatly cut windows. I remember us comparing our new bookbags full of goodies during the week before school started. I remember dragging my six year old sister by the hand to get on the bus by an eleven year old me when she was so nervous for her first day of first grade.
I am so thankful for those summers with my sisters. Now that we are grown with kids of our own, I can't help but smile when I see one of my kids carrying a shoe box to one of their siblings rooms and just wondering what may be inside... maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe these are my "wonder years" instead. :)Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-73240070815034352482013-07-18T20:59:00.000-07:002013-07-18T20:59:07.427-07:00Catching up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlEObxBK9Ec/Uei5dm81CnI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e4ezs5Hst6M/s1600/triston+and+lexy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlEObxBK9Ec/Uei5dm81CnI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e4ezs5Hst6M/s320/triston+and+lexy.jpg" /></a></div>Hello all-
Well, let's give this a try...
I haven't written anything in three years. Yes, three long years ago is the last time I submitted any writings to my column.
Today, I was at work- a fairly new job- where I am getting to know everyone and they are getting to know me. I work with a lady named June. She is really sweet and I open up to her fairly easily. We, were slow this afternoon so I was telling June about my past working at a newspaper and loving to my core, writing my column. All this lead me to google myself (the search engine recognizes my name... imagine that lol), anyway, my blog popped up. I have spent the past hour, now that I am home, reading my past entries. Wow. I can't believe how much my life has changed in the three years since my last entry.
I am going to do a quick run down to try and catch everyone up.
In my last few entries, I mentioned my oldest daughter, Chelsea, was pregnant with my first grand child. Well, Lexy is now going on three years old. She is so incredibly beautiful. She has the brightest, most beautiful eyes that I swear you can see the light of God in every time she giggles. She has long, blonde hair that curls up at the ends and the sweetest smile in the world. She is "Mimi's girl". Yes, I went with "Mimi". Not only has God blessed us with Lexy, but Chelsea had another child 8 months ago. On November 1, 2012, we welcomed Triston Lane into our lives as well. He is just as perfect as his sister. I love them both to heaven and back. On top of welcoming Lexy and Triston into our lives, my step son and his wife also had a baby. Liam was born this past June. He visited us tonight and of course fell asleep with me rocking him.
I never imagined being a grandparent before I ever hit 40- but I am. I knew my daughter would be a good mom. What I didn't know was that she would be such a great mom.
Now, my little "Chatty Cathy" daughter that I wrote about is just weeks away from 14 and is entering her freshman year of high school. My only son is an upcoming senior. My middle daughter, Whitley, continues to make me proud by working her way bit by bit, on into the nursing field. While continuing her education, she works her hinny off day in and day out as a CNA. I am so proud of her work ethic and good heart.
Now, that is a run down of my family over the past few years- now on to me...
I will be turning 40 in a couple of months. I now work in retail at a long time establishment and the ladies I work with tell me daily how young and energetic I am so naturally, I adore them. :)
I miss writing. I think there is a big part of me that has avoided taking to my keyboard and thoughts for the purpose of not digging up bones. I know there are no opportunities where we live that offer me any sort of career writing anymore. Printed newspapers are a dying field. People rely on on-line sources for their news and entertainment. It is very hard for a small weekly paper to compete with that. I miss when something really funny, sad or exciting happens in my life, thinking, "I can't wait to tell my readers this one!" I miss having people grab up a paper and flipping to my column and I miss knowing that an entire community of readers are counting on me to get the latest story out.
In a way, it is nice to have an ordinary job. It is nice to go to work and be able to leave work there. It is nice to come home and focus on my family and nice to not read about myself on "topix" every other night.
Right now, ordinary is just where I think I need to be.
Thanks for taking the time to catch up with me. Thanks for taking the time to getting to know the people in my life through my words and thanks for being patient with me while I develop a somewhat "normal" routine to my chaotic, crazy, incredible life. Until next time, sending all my love.
BeckyBecky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-89195028705143708492010-07-01T17:31:00.001-07:002010-07-01T17:54:18.670-07:00Just a Thought... no more Procrastination!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/TC04epMPZnI/AAAAAAAAAFw/6P0xj1CwvOo/s1600/procrastination.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/TC04epMPZnI/AAAAAAAAAFw/6P0xj1CwvOo/s200/procrastination.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489105619938928242" /></a><br />Okay... so I have gotten a lot of requests from my friends (possibly enemies too that enjoy reading about my not so great days) to keep Just a Thought going. I logged into my account and saw that my last post was made on March 2nd! Wow! If this had been a Webkinz that needed fed- well, mine would have been long gone!<br /><br />So much has happened in my life over the last few months. As you can see by my last few entries, I started a newspaper. Sadly, now it is closed.<br /><br />This was so hard for me to accept. The reason it was so hard for me is because I know what my paper could have been a year from now if I could have held on. The reader support and small business support I got was beyond belief. The problem was, I couldn't get the "big money" advertisers to go with me. Why? I don't know. I do know that banks I have banked with since I was eighteen years old and that my family has used for generations, wouldn't give my endeavors the time of day. This was a major issue being that it costs about $2000 per week to keep a paper in business and I was only taking in about $500 per week, the last few weeks.<br /><br />Well, enough about that. Now on to since then.<br /><br />I am currently at home. My oldest daughter is expecting the first baby to come into our home in more than a decade. A little girl. She is expected the first week in August. I am so excited. At first, it was hard admitting that I was going to be a Nana, Mimzi or whatever she calls me, at the ripe old age of 36, but I have learned to love the idea. I think it will be neat to take her out places and others will never suspect me of being a granny. She will have an eleven year old aunt. How cool will that be? Not to mention, my sisters will be great aunts while in their thirties. When I think of Great Aunts, I think of my Aunt Roberta. Trust me, my sisters aren't anything like Aunt Roberta. They don't bag up pennies in sandwich bags tied tight with rubber bands or anything.<br /><br />I think Just a Thought may just continue after all. I mean, if it weren't for this form of therapy, I might just end up paying for the real thing. Love to you all and I will keep you posted regularly.<br />Love and Blessings,<br />Becky : )Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-71924777045977027232010-03-02T21:14:00.000-08:002010-03-02T21:30:18.463-08:00My fading color<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S43z4oRpTWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/CRtjC0O-hWo/s1600-h/stressed-out1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S43z4oRpTWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/CRtjC0O-hWo/s200/stressed-out1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444275678770449762" /></a><br />Okay...so I have neglected my blog lately...terribly. I mean, if it were a goldfish, it would have been down the toilet a week ago.<br /><br />So much has been going on. First off, the first two issues of my paper, Towns Tribune, have been published. Like a happy Mama Bear, I am proud. <br /><br />Even beyond the craziness of starting a new business, I have faced the death of my grandfather and then a "stomach virus" or whatever you want to call it. I call it, "The Hurt so much you want to scream" virus.<br /><br />Tonight, it is nearly 12:30 a.m.; well past what should be my bed time. I have been losing lots of beauty sleep lately and apparently you can see it all over my face. I have never gotten so many, "You need to rest" or "You look tired(s)" in all my life. All of which, leads me to tomorrow.<br /><br />Tomorrow I am going to get my hair done. Really, that shouldn't be a big deal but for me, during this time, it is. <br /><br />See, the kids will probably once again be out of school tomorrow, which means my phone will ring at least 3 times during my hour long appointment. The kids can't go over fifteen minutes without a blow out arguement when they are home all day, on yet another snow day. Secondly, my phone will probably ring 2 more times besides their calls. Those will be from the office. Someone needing something or needs a question answered. I think I might just cut the phone off during that time. I mean, really- there isn't a whole lot I could do short of running out of the salon with foils sticking out all over my head, right?<br /><br />Anyway, I am sure all will go well. Worst case, all my hair falls out during the color treatment due to stress, right? (Okay, so I really hope this is an exaggeration.) <br /><br />Until the next time I catch a minute to write.. pray for me. Pray that I can maintain the strength to keep up with my rambunctious children; do well at my new business, get supper prepared every night and keep at least two towels clean at all times. (One for drying and one for my hair- the rest of them can drip dry). Lastly, pray that I keep my sanity... lots of days I feel it fading faster than my hair color.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-14102699011499291662010-02-16T20:20:00.000-08:002010-02-16T20:55:20.470-08:00Papaw Junior<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3t2sNLXErI/AAAAAAAAAFg/qOsHWgctSks/s1600-h/grandfathers_cvr.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3t2sNLXErI/AAAAAAAAAFg/qOsHWgctSks/s200/grandfathers_cvr.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439071476803637938" /></a><br />I am fortunate enough at 36 years old, to still have 3 out of my 4 grandparents with me. The only one that has passed, is my paternal grandfather that we all called "Big Daddy". Big Daddy aquired his name for a reason. He was a big man- a really big man. That was a part of why his health failed him so miserably. He passed away 15 years ago, in his sixties.<br /><br />My paternal grandmother is in the nursing home. She is in fairly good health, although she calls my mother every night with a new ailment. My mom pretty much just listens to the latest problem and sympathizes- only to listen to a new condition the next night. My dad, although it is his mother, isn't near as patient with her. <br /><br />My other set of grandparents, my mom's parents, live only about 3 miles from me. I run by often and help with errands. I go to the bank and pay their water bill for them each month. Sometimes I run medicine by; or a loaf of bread. I see them fairly often because I live so close by. I don't see my maternal grandmother near enough. Although I know the excuse is poor, it is still the truth- I can't stand going to the nursing home. It is depressing to me and I constantly worry that my kids will get sick from going with me. On top of everything else, I honestly just have a hard time fitting it into a typical day. I tried to go by during my lunch break before but unfortunately, it was Nannie's lunch time too- as she soon reminded me. "Why don't you come back after lunch.." that was Nannie's position on me interrupting her banana pudding solitude.<br /><br />A few years back, we all started noticing a difference in my Papaw. The little man with a fascination with keeping everything and pinching every penny, all of a sudden was forgetting things. He was doing some "off the wall" things that just didn't make since. After insisting on a trip to the doctor (against his will), we come to find out Papaw would only get worse- he was succumbing to Dementia. <br /><br />Now, as time has gone on, he has progressively gotten worse. He is just a fraction of the Papaw that I grew up with. He is still in the small framed package God wrapped him in but he only shows portions of the grandpaw that used to let my sisters and I pump gas with him at his filling station. <br /><br />Yesterday, Papaw fell down. He fell fairly hard, to hear my Mamaw tell it. After Mamaw and Papaw's nurse, Sandy, insisted that he needed to be checked over at the hospital, he was taken to the local emergency room. All the while, my sweet little Papaw never even knew he was hurt. It turns out the leg he kept rubbing after the fall was indeed a broken hip.<br /><br />I am ashamed to admit that I can't remember for sure how old Papaw is. I believe he is 82 years old. It is either 81 or 82. It doesn't really matter. Papaw couldn't tell you how old he is either. <br /><br />Tonight, he lays in a hospital bed at a far away hospital following his hip surgery. He is in ICU. He was told to press the button for pain medication as he needs it. Papaw will never remember to do that. He will just moan when he is in pain and I will say a prayer that the nurse listens to his sounds and presses the button for him. <br /><br />While Papaw is resting after his surgery, I am remembering. I remember when Papaw bought us the scooter to ride up and down their street when we came to visit. I remember Papaw letting us "work" at the station and paying us a few dollars to go spend at the gameroom. I remember Papaw and Mamaw lugging my sisters and I around the fair in ninety degree weather. <br /><br />I know Papaw's hip will heal. His mind is what I worry about. That's okay though... I know God fills Papaw's heart. As far as his memory... I can remember enough for the both of us.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-58493898952972645352010-02-13T16:46:00.000-08:002010-02-13T17:04:24.747-08:00Never let your teens babysit...even for an hour<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3dMEQEj95I/AAAAAAAAAFY/-emxRLSl4AU/s1600-h/Peach_Tied_to_Train_Tracks_by_estoke61.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 141px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3dMEQEj95I/AAAAAAAAAFY/-emxRLSl4AU/s200/Peach_Tied_to_Train_Tracks_by_estoke61.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437898710990452626" /></a><br />What a crazy week. I have missed a couple of nights writing but honestly- I have a good excuse. Thursday was opening day for my new paper- The Towns Tribune. It went fantastic! I couldn't be prouder of how opening day went. We had subscribers coming through all day long and such much needed display ads were contracted. <br /><br />Following the big day at the office- I covered my very first event for the Tribune. It was a meeting at 5:30 that same day. I was crowded with people asking about the new paper (including the competition- LOL). Like a proud mommy, I was telling everyone about our new plans. <br /><br />Friday was slower- primarily due to weather. We had yet another snow and of course with that- the kids got out of school at noon. I kept the office open as long as I could but when 3:00 rolled around and the white stuff was sticking- I decided to call it a day and head home. I am not one of those grand drivers that insist they can drive in the stuff. I know I can't, at least not well.<br /><br />So last night, two of my daughters had friends over. My 15 year old, Whitley, had her long time friend Lauren over and my youngest daughter, Madison had a friend over. This was the first time that Lea had spent the night with us, although she and Madison have been friends for about a year. Well, I know her mom well, we are friends, so I was not concerned with the "It's a new friend" rule- you know, the one where everyone has to be on their best behavior so the new guest isn't scared off. I knew Lea would stick. Evidentally I should have told the other kids that the rule did apply because they were not well mannered at all.<br /><br />John and I had to go get a small amount of firewood and the girls were insisting on Slushies from the nearby convenience store. Since we only had one of our four wheel drive trucks available, we couldn't seat everyone in it so we told the older girls to watch the younger ones for about an hour while we dug our way through the snow and went on the much needed Slushie run. <br /><br />Imagine my horror when we pulled in forty five minutes later to find the younger girls seated in the middle of the living room floor, back to back, with snow hats pulled over each of their heads and tied up with the horses' lead ropes. To beat it all- the little Yorkie dog (that looks like an angel but acts like the devil) had the ball on top of Madison's hat tight in her mouth and was pulling with all her might. <br /><br />At first I just stood in the doorway with my mouth hanging wide open. I thought, "What in the world have those girls done!" Just as I screamed "WWWHHHIITTLLEEYYYY" at the top of my lungs, the younger girls died laughing. I knew then I had been pranked. The older girls appeared from the dining room dying laughing and pointing at my pathetic attempt to grin at their joke. The girls wiggled free and giggled about their conspiracy to trick me all night. <br /><br />It seems the new guest fit right in- she was just as warped as the rest of them. Gotta love them!Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-40341614283506524132010-02-10T19:59:00.000-08:002010-02-10T20:14:38.958-08:00Five, four, three, two, one.... blast off!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3OEJSG06HI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/CdZi5niGo2Y/s1600-h/512841202060235.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3OEJSG06HI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/CdZi5niGo2Y/s200/512841202060235.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436834470180481138" /></a><br />So, today was yet another snow day. Good grief; I am beginning to feel like we are caught up between the two movies, "Ground Hog Day" and "Snow Day". Needless to say, we got a dusting, so the kids were out of school.<br /><br />The biggie about today was, this was my last day to 'get things done', whatever that means. Anyway, tomorrow is my opening day at the paper. I am so excited, yet nervous. You just never know what to expect. A thousand thoughts are running through my mind- "Where did I put the subscription forms?", "Did we network the computers right?", "Who will stay out front when I have to go pee (or worse)?" - yep, I am having all sorts of thoughts. <br /><br />Today, my youngest daughter and I went out there and hung pictures, unwrapped brand new pens and paper and put staples in the staplers. We both made our lists of things to do and got cracking on them. The thing is, I know I had two or so more things on my list that wasn't crossed off- and now, I have lost it. Somewhere between going to the store and then All Star practice, it disappeared. Lord bless whoever reads it. They will think they have gotten a hold of some nut's to do list right before they were sent off somewhere.<br /><br />Tomorrow, I will step forward and do my best. (I might even wear something other than a hoodie). I probably won't sleep much tonight but I have a feeling that I will spend a lot of that awake time talking things over with God. He always makes me feel better.<br /><br />Tonight, I am going to make another list but on it will be only one item- succeed. I think I can handle that.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-41930205026653135852010-02-08T20:47:00.000-08:002010-02-08T21:07:42.670-08:00Dividing so we can Multiply (Eventually)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3DtmIsU2lI/AAAAAAAAAFI/wqCn08WOXLo/s1600-h/money_stacks_textmedium.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S3DtmIsU2lI/AAAAAAAAAFI/wqCn08WOXLo/s200/money_stacks_textmedium.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436105989660400210" /></a><br />I happen to be one of those people that has to have certain things in multiples. For example- When I go to the grocery store to get milk, I get two gallons. When one of them runs out and we have to break into the second, I already start feeling like we are out of milk. I am pretty much that way about everything. If we have a dozen eggs, when it gets down to 6- I mark on my list that we are out of eggs. I am also that way about our finances.<br /><br />It has been more than stressful over the past few weeks of managing two separate accounts. One of them our personal and the second, our business. When we went to Wal-Mart a few nights ago, we bought things for both home and the office so I naturally divided the order and paid for the home half with our debit card and the business part with the business account money. There has been so much to buy for the office that it can be overwhelming; especially while at the same time, I am trying to pay the bills at home on time and not forget any. (I said trying... not necessarily succeeding at all times.)<br /><br />Anyway, we can now say that the Lord has provided... the lights are still on at home and nearly everything to open the doors at the paper is purchased. There are still a few odd and end items left to go but nothing substantial. I am so thankful. <br /><br />Although I am thankful, I have this worry as I watch the amounts in both accounts slowly dwindle away. I realize that is what the money was put there for; to open the doors to the Towns Tribune. Still, it is scary to watch most of it fade away. In it's place sits- two computers, desks, a fax machine, copier and the list goes on and on. <br /><br />Getting back to the "Can't stand it if there is only half a dozen eggs me", I start feel queasy at the thought of all the money that is gone. Even though there is still enough in place for the odds and ends and such, I like multiples and it seems as if instead of multiplying, I have spent the past month dividing. <br /><br />Tomorrow, I am going to spend half my day at home. Over the past few, I have spent most of my day on the road talking to prospective clients and putting more and more items into the office. I have to take tomorrow to do laundry, clean the floors and get milk. We are down to one and only 2 eggs. How did I ever let that happen? I must be slipping. : )Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-49507534560710432552010-02-06T20:16:00.000-08:002010-02-06T20:39:31.306-08:00So...how was your day?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S25D-vNCzEI/AAAAAAAAAFA/01f2laEeE58/s1600-h/movingfurniture.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S25D-vNCzEI/AAAAAAAAAFA/01f2laEeE58/s320/movingfurniture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435356545384893506" /></a><br />Sometimes I will ponder for hours over what to write about, especially since I am doing this blog daily and I used to do my column for the paper only once a week.<br /><br />My husband tells me to just write about my day- my life. I sit back and think, "what is so interesting about that?" and I realize, nothing- or just maybe- everything. <br /><br />See, when I first started writing my column, it was an open place to talk about life in general. That is what makes it what it is. I mean, we all go through the emotions- happiness, sadness, guilt, love and confusion. My life- heck, my days- are filled with all of those, as I know yours are too.<br /><br />Tonight I am going to do just that- write about my day...<br /><br />My 15 year old daughter, Whitley, had two friends spend the night last night. One of them, Lauren, has spent the night here a lot since they became friends in about the fifth grade- she is a whole lot like another member of the family. With her here, we just go on as normal- the kids fight, the dogs bark, I yell....you get the picture. It is a little different when a fairly new friend is over. We have to be a little better mannered. (That does not come easy for some of us). Anyway, all went well except for the dogs. We have one that is a barker. That doesn't mix well with a teen girl that is afraid of dogs. Every time he headed her way with his loud, obnoxious bark, she hit the bedroom. We tried to put him outside but he would scratch at the storm door so loud that we would let him back in, to only bark again. <br /><br />Toward the end of the morning though, they had gotten used to one another. She realized that he didn't bite and I think he realized that she didn't either. : )<br /><br />After one of the friends left, we hit Hiawassee wide open to pick up more equipment and furniture. All this in a mixture of rain, sleet and on and off snow flurries all day. I don't know which was worse, my husband and I carrying in a heavy as heck desk by ourselves, or the freezing sleet that insisted on biting us in the face while we pulled and tugged until it was indoors. Now, with only a fax machine and a couple of pieces of small furniture to go, we are pretty much set up at the office. Even the trash cans and thumb tacks are in place. Tomorrow- we must hang a ten foot sign so I pray for warmer, drier weather or my poor husband will not be happy climbing up on the roof of that building.<br /><br />Other than the above, I managed the grocery store, helping my fifth grader decorate her poster on "Horse Care", cooking supper and even two loads of laundry.<br /><br />Now, I sit back and long for a hot bath and just a minute of peace and quiet. I hardly ever feel 36 years old. I keep this fixture of my days in high school and beating around town in my little Toyota Tercel in the back of my mind. It takes me back to what I affectionately call my B.C. (Before children) <br /><br />Tonight, I realize why the calendar states that I am indeed 36. My arms and legs feel like jello and my mind feels as though I can't handle another detail. (That's why I make lots of lists)<br /><br />Tomorrow, I look forward to church, seeing my mom and dad and hopefully sunny skies. For now, I am heading for that hot bath and bed, all the while, thanking God for giving me the chance to achieve all I can with each and every day.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-73121350079116280812010-02-05T18:46:00.000-08:002010-02-05T19:28:00.090-08:00Friday night= eating out+Wal Mart (Man, I'm getting old)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2zhrmYuwJI/AAAAAAAAAE4/IYEvhJQ8Y30/s1600-h/rmcn61l.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2zhrmYuwJI/AAAAAAAAAE4/IYEvhJQ8Y30/s200/rmcn61l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434966989484245138" /></a><br />This getting a new business together is just about to kick my behind. I am tired. Very tired.<br /><br />Tonight, my husband, children and I, headed out to dinner and then to Wal Mart to pick up some last pieces of needed equipment for the office. <br /><br />Dinner was fun. So many times, we go out to eat and it seems the entire restaurant gets served before we even get menus. Who knows. Anyway, tonight went well. It wasn't the mannerly, calm type of well- but the playful, "we don't care who is watching" kind of well. My son and youngest daughter managed a couple of spit balls across the table, my oldest daughter gave her brother a 'wet willy' and my son said the word 'gas' at least three times but hey- at least nothing was spilled. After our meal, my husband and I are paying the bill while my son went on out to the truck and low and behold as we walk out the door- we see him standing at the edge of the parking lot waving at all the cars driving by on the road below the restaurant. Ggeesss- you would think that it would be okay to let a fourteen year old head to the parking lot alone. Not my son. Nope. He will do just about anything if it will land him a laugh. I am ashamed to admit that we laughed. I couldn't help it. It was the funniest thing to see. Nothing embarrasses him. I guess that is why he is always the 'fun' one to hang out with. It must not be genetic. I prefer to actually sit in the truck and wait- with the heat on high.<br /><br />Next, off to Wal-Mart we go. <br /><br />Living in a small town, Wal-Mart tends to be the Friday night outing spot for a lot of families. If someone would have told me when I was seventeen that I would find it entertaining one day to go to a store and load up on toilet paper and dog food, I would have laughed my rear off. Oh well, we grow up and learn to appreciate any sort of break from the hustle and bustle of home and work, I suppose.<br /><br />We load up on our necessities and a few pieces of office equipment for the Towns Tribune opening. As usual, my daughter and I make a bee-line to the one register that only has one other customer in line and as usual- off the light goes just as we get to the register. Again, we pursue our hunt for another register that has less than a dozen people in line. It never ceases to amaze me why sixteen registers aline the front of the store but never are there more than three at a time open. Just as I am about to give up and leave the entire buggy....Madison spots a short line. Again, we take off like a heavy, middle-aged man, after the last swim suit calendar available. <br /><br />Finally, we are out in the parking lot. I am literally jogging for the truck through the wind and rain, carrying bagfuls of receipt books and glitter paint, while my husband pulls our daughter through the parking lot with her 'Heely' shoes on, to keep her rolling along and laughing. <br /><br />Now, we are back home.. the fire is crackling angrily in the fireplace while we are all snuggled nicely in our flannel jammies. It seems like home is the place to be after all....at least until the loud ones come in at curfew. Along about 11:30 p.m., the long lines at Wal-Mart will probably look good to me. Funny how a home can be so peaceful one minute and then full of nagging and fighting the next. I guess that is just another one of the wonderful perks of parenthood, huh?Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-6377582718411536672010-02-03T20:50:00.000-08:002010-02-03T21:23:11.192-08:00Explaining for the adults<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2pZe3Zc_EI/AAAAAAAAAEw/KHkQB_FFyX0/s1600-h/classic-cheesecakes-lg-thumb-368x320.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 174px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2pZe3Zc_EI/AAAAAAAAAEw/KHkQB_FFyX0/s200/classic-cheesecakes-lg-thumb-368x320.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434254287177579586" /></a><br />It's a tough out there. We all know it. Figure in being a middle or high school student and being asked to sell at least 5 cheesecakes at $20 per pop to a town full of broke people. My kids did it. My kids plus a friend, sold their minimum, a combined 15 cheesecakes and I will tell you, it wasn't easy.<br /><br />Raising money through fundraisers has been a long standing event with school age children. I am well aware of that but during my own fund raising days, we sold candy bars, not $20 cheesecakes. <br /><br />My son and daughter are both in chorus at their school. They were asked to sell their minimum of these desserts, in order to be able to participate in an upcoming field trip. My daughter took her order form to my mom's job and got her orders there. That left my son. My son and one of my daughter's friends, that is also in the class, hit our neighborhood. They went door to door, where many of the people that lived in those homes are struggling to make ends meet week to week, and sold their remaining amounts. <br /><br />The estimated delivery date printed at the top of the order form was the first week in February. Guess what. We are there but the cheesecakes aren't. The kids were told yesterday that the orders were delayed for a week and would be in the beginning of next week. Today, it was moved back another week. <br /><br />Out of respect, my kids rode around to all their customers and told them their orders were delayed (although we are not sure why they are). They were all very nice about it. I was embarassed. I didn't want all those people that were nice enough to help out, to think that my kids were going door to door and scamming them out of their hard earned money when they didn't get their orders when told.<br /><br />It is very unfortunate that kids that are out raising funds for a particular program are put in a position of explaining for the adults. (Reminds me of my old job) Anyway, we will hold our breath and wait for the next couple of weeks to pass and hope there are no more changes. And guess what...my kids don't even get to go on the field trip. Yep, what they did not know was the class that sold the most got the trip. The rest were omitted. Evidentally, there was a class that didn't stop at their 5 required orders. For us, 5 was 5 too many.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-16944929048083807432010-02-02T20:16:00.000-08:002010-02-02T20:36:15.316-08:00Climb aboard, sit back and hold on<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2j9DgJ2f9I/AAAAAAAAAEo/vraXdWxgvMs/s1600-h/tahiti-boat-in_water.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2j9DgJ2f9I/AAAAAAAAAEo/vraXdWxgvMs/s200/tahiti-boat-in_water.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433871187035193298" /></a><br />The past couple of days have been so full of leases, hook-ups and set-ups that I am already exhausted just thinking about tomorrow. Although exhausted, I am excited. I am so thrilled to actually be given this opportunity to step forward and open my own business. It is a dream that so many think about but never get to do. I am almost scared to open my eyes some mornings for a deep rooted fear that something will still go wrong and prevent it.<br /><br />This entire process from deciding to take a step forward and believe in myself enough to think I can do it, to announcing my decision and wondering who will and won't support my choice, has been mentally exhausting. The one thing I have learned this far is to have faith.<br /><br />I am honestly a woman of great faith. I believe wholeheartedly that if we do all we can for ourselves, and do it honestly and steadfast, that God will help us out. I know there is so much in my life that has only been achieved through my deep rooted belief in God and all his blessings. Every time I look at my children, my modest yet comfortable home, my parents, my sisters, my friends and my husband; I am reminded of all that is good in my life.<br /><br />My friends. I don't even know how to start saying thank you to them. I have had people believe in me even when I didn't quite believe in myself. My husband often jokes with me (I think he is joking...hhmmm) about how "modest" I am. This could be due to the fact that he will pick at me and I will proceed to remind him of just how lucky he was to find me. (I think it is a lot funnier than he does)<br /><br />Up until recently, I felt like my two sisters, Sherry and Lisa, were the only real friends that I knew through thick and thin, that I could count on. So many of my buddies have made me forever change my mind. Sherry and Lisa are of course still on my list but the list itself has gotten much longer.<br /><br />I will more than likely wake up in the morning and have a stroke of panic hit me, worried about what problems may arise unexpectedly for the day. I will then remember that I have my faith, my family and my friends to fall back on and help me through it. I don't believe for a second that all will be smooth sailing from here on out but I do believe that I can steer the boat until the waters calm down.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-76423973487432988592010-01-31T20:12:00.000-08:002010-01-31T20:40:33.249-08:00Chatty Cathy<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2ZZ5E9Et7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/9TT8yE8xvKg/s1600-h/DD-ChattyCathyWristTag.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 189px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2ZZ5E9Et7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/9TT8yE8xvKg/s200/DD-ChattyCathyWristTag.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433128837586401202" /></a><br />Okay, so having kids makes us all get used to our life being an open book as soon as they learn to talk. If Mama says (accidentaly) that a teacher is a quack, before you know it- the teacher knows you think they are a quack. If you think the lady taking your order was very rude and she happens to be the same one at the register the next time you go- "Look Mommy, it is the rude lady again!" will more than likely come from your party, even before the order; so therefore, you are afraid to place an order at all.<br /><br />I have been there. It took me well into my third child (I'm evidentally a slow learner) to figure out what wasn't complimentary, needed to be spelled out- and best to it fast at that.<br /><br />The one thing that I thought might get a bit easier as my kids got older was having a bit of privacy changing, going to the restroom, taking a bath or even talking on the phone. <br /><br />My youngest child is now 10. She has figured out how to spell so I had to instill in her that what is said in our home, stays in our home, unless we say it is okay to share. She is good with that. The problem (well, not for her- only me) is that she follows me around everywhere going on and on like a "Chatty Cathy". Sometimes it is fun. I love to talk to her about how to wear her hair the next day for school or discuss her birthday presents she wants next go around but while I am trying to wash, shampoo and repeat; well- it gets a little overbearing. It never fails that while I am changing into my lounge clothes after we get home for the evening, the bedroom door will fly open and anyone in the hall can catch a glimpse of my winter white legs (and more).<br /><br />The worst thing is trying to carry on a conversation with others. If I am on the phone with a friend, or one of her older siblings, she listens carefully. If she happens to miss a word or two, she is sure to ask what we were talking about. Sometimes it is cute. Other times, I am forced to run the saying "Patience is a Virtue" through my head several times before answering.<br /><br />For now, I am just going to enjoy my nosey little 5th grader. I know all too well, that in a few short years, she won't listen to a word I say. She will care less about what I think she should wear. She won't give me the time of day because I just "won't understand a thing". She will be the wise one. She will be a <strong>teenager</strong>. Yeah, my little "Chatty Cathy" is looking pretty good right about now. One day, my big eyed, nosey, chatty, little girl will be just like the doll- a thing of the past. A beautiful, driver's licensed high school student that thinks she understands all the works of the world will stand in her place. That will be okay too though; I know how to pull their strings too- I have a couple of those in my collection as well.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-29914351866807903112010-01-30T21:03:00.000-08:002010-01-30T21:20:42.456-08:00Doing what we do...and doing it well<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2US2KuKyiI/AAAAAAAAAEY/LAmN3niFAjA/s1600-h/11693815268271Doddlebug%2520Bright%2520Assortment%2520Buttons%2520469.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2US2KuKyiI/AAAAAAAAAEY/LAmN3niFAjA/s200/11693815268271Doddlebug%2520Bright%2520Assortment%2520Buttons%2520469.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432769247292607010" /></a><br />As I prepare for my upcoming week and all the excitement that comes with it, I am wishing that I could step forward about two weeks, to when my business will be open.<br /><br />Every single thing of substance, that has happened over the past couple of weeks and not been reported on, I think to myself,"this is a story". It is very difficult for me to step out of the reporter mode and not analyze every single event. <br /><br />When I was little, my mom was a seamstress. I remember so well, her folding our laundry and looking at the seam of each pair of jeans, each shirt, and analyzing the way they were sewn together. She would mutter about how poorly many of the items were crafted together, speaking out loud, and asking no one in particular how in the world that ever got through inspectors. My sisters and I would just laugh at her and we never quite understood how working at the sewing plant was a craft, until we were much older and tried to sew on our first button, or better yet, tried to hem a pair of pants. <br /><br />Four children later, I still can't do either one worth a flitter.<br /><br />I believe I have a bit of my Mama in me (although everyone says I am like my Daddy, the hot headed, stubborn one). I believe I have just enough of Mama to care about what I do. It may or may not be the most fluent career in the world but I believe it is the one that suits me best. I believe that taking what you do and being the very best, will always set you apart from the rest. That is what I am after.<br /><br />I may not be able to properly hem a pair of pants, or choose to just throw out a pair that develops a hole in the knee but I can see a "must grab on and hold" story a mile away. I can't wait to hang on and go for the ride.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-68784703719541042692010-01-29T18:56:00.000-08:002010-01-29T19:47:05.447-08:00Missing my girls<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2OrrCxv2EI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/1_h0nWjvxko/s1600-h/110_2867.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2OrrCxv2EI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/1_h0nWjvxko/s200/110_2867.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432374331507202114" /></a><br />At my house, it is a pretty fair to say, the women have always ruled the roost. It was pretty obvious for the guys to give up on having the upper hand years ago. I mean with it being 4 versus 3, it was tight but we girls tend to be louder (although the boys are messier), especially my youngest daughter.<br /><br />Tonight, my girls are spread out all over the place. Madison is spending the night with my sister and her kids (and she is always home), Whitley is at a friend's house and Chelsea is at her boyfriend's house (like usual). Now, that the weather has turned bad out, with snow and ice covering the roads, I told the older two girls just to stay put, so now I am the only female in the house with 3 males. <br /><br />The night has been filled with X-box, Fox News Channel (instead of Lifetime) and "mooning" all the cars at a local BBQ restaurant we ate at, thanks to my son (he really needs to work on etiquette but hey, I give up). Yep, the boys are not at all a mannered bunch. I miss my girls.<br /><br />Usually, I am faced with an on-going battle getting in the bathroom, Hannah Montana either on the tv or blaring from my daughter's room and "Mom, braid my hair." I often wish for a little peace but tonight, I am missing listening to my little rock star babble on and on about all the latest fifth grade happenings or having to look over every page of the Justice catalog at every single thing that has been circled with a bright colored Sharpie.<br /><br />My husband often grumbles about the lop-sided works of our household, especially when my step-son is at his mom's because then it is just 2 against 4. He blames the girls for the constant water temperature only being luke warm although the boys take longer in the bathroom than the girls. He rolls his eyes every time they snatch up the laptop to connect with their FB friends as he walks over to pick it up. Although he grumbles, I know he misses the girls too.<br /><br />I personally have had enough of the "testosterone tide". I want the "estrogen ocean" back. I like it when things are lop-sided, after all, that is the way our family functions.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-89992522829241626202010-01-27T20:08:00.000-08:002010-01-27T20:34:11.045-08:00Rude Brokers, Laughing at Pelosi and Getting Manicured<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2ESqix6TTI/AAAAAAAAAEI/kEHXIjLXAWU/s1600-h/rightfingernailsdec24pm.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 128px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S2ESqix6TTI/AAAAAAAAAEI/kEHXIjLXAWU/s200/rightfingernailsdec24pm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431643147685481778" /></a><br />Okay, so I just wrapped up watching part of the State of the Union Address (In between reading Hank the Cowdog with my daughter). I'm not sure which was more entertaining, watching the people present for the speech, or Hank the Cowdog. I think I would vote for watching Pelosi jumping up and down every few seconds.<br /><br />Honestly, I am not a Pelosi fan, so every time she jumped up, I was hoping she would take a spill. So much about her irritates me but I won't go into all that political stuff but I will say there is not much to jump up and down about concerning the state of the economy.<br /><br />I am a firm believer that during hard times, when businesses are suffering, everyone has to step up their game in order to survive. Today, I was shocked at the way one company acted while I was trying to give them my business.<br /><br />As you all know, I am in the process of opening up a new business. I have looked for the best available spot, for the best price, for a while. I thought I had found that so I called the Broker in charge of the property. There was so much red tape to run through to get moved into the office unit that I have given up on that one.<br /><br />To sum it up- my husband works in Gainesville so I asked for them to meet us either after 5p.m. or on a Saturday so we could both look. That was only possible with an appointment that the owner obviously didn't want to do since I was told to go look at it by myself. I went to get the key. I had to leave a credit card to run 3 minutes down the road to look it over. Keep in mind that we live in a county of less than 10,000 and the Broker knows me (but obviously doesn't like me). Then, when I came back 10 minutes later and told them that I would talk it over with my husband and email with terms that would work for us, I was told they were not negotiable and I would have to fill out an application that may or may not be accepted and there was a $40 fee to submit said application.<br /><br />I honestly wanted to take my lengthy nails and claw out the Broker's eyes. They were making this process much harder than it had to be, not to mention, the property has been vacant for more than a year. After drawing a mental picture of me clawing out the lady's eyes, I smiled and then went for a manicure because seeing my nails in my mind made me actually look at them. Yuck! They would have looked much better in my visual image with a nice French Manicure. <br /><br />Tonight I have simmered down and I will continue the hunt tomorrow. At least if I have to imagine using my nails again, I can do it in style.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-77310003405959696912010-01-26T20:01:00.000-08:002010-01-26T20:17:09.692-08:00Doctor Mom<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1--OpZdsvI/AAAAAAAAAEA/t42_CgH_McI/s1600-h/doctor_mom_button-p145984540472099479tmn2_210.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1--OpZdsvI/AAAAAAAAAEA/t42_CgH_McI/s200/doctor_mom_button-p145984540472099479tmn2_210.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431268834472211186" /></a><br />Tonight, I am undergoing one of the job descriptions that is at the bottom of my "like" list...doctor.<br /><br />My fifteen year old daughter has a terrible stomach virus. It all developed very quickly after my teams' final basketball game this evening. On our way home, she told me that she felt nauseous and tired. I immediately thought uh-oh because one of her BFF's, Lauren, was out of school today with a stomach virus.<br /><br />As soon as we got home, we were cleaning up-chuck- next it was the other end.<br /><br />Now, you would think as a kid gets older, the sickness thing would get easier..well, I am here to tell you..it doesn't, at least not with my daughter.<br /><br />I have ran back and forth from her bedroom at least a dozen times, emptying "the pot" that we keep near a sick child's bed. I have brought her Sprite, bottled water, a wash cloth for her head and repeated hugs and sympathy. She felt "nasty" due to the sickness, so I even had to bring her jammies to the bathroom when she decided to shower.<br /><br />I am honestly about to scream. I am surprised that I have managed to even get this written without a "MOOOOMMMM" coming from her room. She is really a terrible patient. About an hour ago, she even "fell" in the hallway between her bedroom and the bathroom (it's about 6 feet between the two) because she felt weak. I tried to help her up but since she wasn't trying herself, I just let her lay there until she decided to muster the strength to get up.<br /><br />Being a doctor stinks. If I have to risk the germs, experience the gross side effects and wait hand and foot on my patient, shouldn't I at least get the office fee and the priveledge of making her wait around in agony for at least an hour?Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-88570768595491056342010-01-25T16:40:00.000-08:002010-01-25T17:07:16.268-08:00Sweats versus Blouses<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S15AOEJp1EI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Cci77AKpfaQ/s1600-h/dre1613l.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S15AOEJp1EI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Cci77AKpfaQ/s200/dre1613l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430848811031974978" /></a><br />As the days go by since I left my job, I wonder how difficult it is going to be for me to get back in the swing of things.<br /><br />For the past couple of weeks, I have become the queen of hoodies, jeans and sneakers. Not to mention, I have become very used to just pulling my hair back in a pony tail, no make-up and taking my kids to school. Don't get me wrong- I still get up just a hair after 6:00, just like before but I don't spend that time preparing myself for a long day at the office. I just throw on clothes (I wouldn't do that except fear of a flat tire) and go. I spend the time now, preparing pancakes for my youngest daughter (her favorite food) and allowing the teenagers to consume the bathrooms for the next hour and a half before we hit the road.<br /><br />This leads me to my next thought- maybe they will be the real ones having a hard time adjusting- my family.<br /><br />Right now, the kids are aware that Mom can just jump in the shower when I get back home, so they aren't very concerned with sharing. My husband used to feed the animals of the morning, before he left for work. That was our system- I took hold of getting the kids fed and off to school and he went out and fed the horses and dogs. Well, he now only worries with that on weekends.<br /><br />Supper used to be his responsibility on Monday nights, the longest day of the week in the newspaper business. Needless to say, he no longer has to dread Monday nights. There are always clean towels, we never run out of toilet paper anymore and supper is on the table just before 6:00 every night, instead of possibly 7 or even 8 at night. <br /><br />The house is also staying much tidier than it used to. It is still very difficult with 5 kids running around (who think the word chore is a form of punishment). I guess before too long, we will be stepping over bookbags and shoes once again.<br /><br />Being at home definately has its ups but so does working. I miss seeing a lot of people I used to see almost daily. I miss feeling like I have done something other than clean all day. I miss the incredible feeling of seeing the finished product Wednesday mornings and knowing that I did all that, top to bottom. Sometimes I actually miss putting my make-up on first thing in the morning. And of course, I miss the extra income. It was fun to go out every now and then and get my hair highlighted or a manicure and not feel guilty about it because I knew that it wasn't going to kill us on the upcoming week's bills.<br /><br />Oh well, I think that being the sole bathtub cleaner, clothes washer and school carpool driver entitles me to a mani-pedi every now and then- in fact- I might just go get a manicure tomorrow. ; )Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-85875588516116777412010-01-24T17:13:00.001-08:002010-01-24T17:30:48.337-08:00God doesn't make mistakes<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1z0OGr6WSI/AAAAAAAAADw/oomMgbK6ZKw/s1600-h/100_1255.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1z0OGr6WSI/AAAAAAAAADw/oomMgbK6ZKw/s200/100_1255.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430483773852113186" /></a><br />Despite the ugly, dreary weather that has hung over everyone's head today, this has been one of the best days of my life.<br /><br />As most of you know, my eighteen year old daughter announced to me in December that she just found out she was pregnant. Chelsea is my oldest daughter, so raising a teenager was new to me as she got older. Since I was only eighteen myself when I had her, I sort of lacked the wisdom or experience to always make the best decisions but I allowed God to guide me with all the important stuff. <br /><br />When she made her announcement to me, with tear-filled eyes, all I could do was hug her and cry with her.<br /><br />For those of you that don't know her, I am telling you that she is a beautiful, smart, kind hearted young lady with loads of promise for a very successful future. All I could think of was the changes she was about to endure. She isn't married but has been in a long standing relationship with her boyfriend for about three years, aside from the typical on and off stuff that teenagers do. I hate to admit it, but I was worried about how others would think of her. It broke my heart to think that others wouldn't see what she is and only look at her as a "could have been". As her mother, that thought made me want to fight the world when the world hadn't done anything to us.<br /><br />Over the past couple of months, I have prayed and came to a realization that God doesn't make mistakes. If he trusted my first born with such a gift, I knew in my soul that she would do it and do it well.<br /><br />Today, she proved that point. <br /><br />We all went to church, as a family. Something we hadn't done in a few months. <br /><br />The service today was like it was sent from God, straight to Chelsea. It was about the sanctity of life and about the value of all of God's children, including those that are not born yet. About how every living soul has made mistakes and those mistakes are ours to make right with God, not anyone else.<br /><br />At the end of the service, my daughter, although scared and trembling, stood before our congregation and re-dedicated her life to God. She admitted to her mistakes and announced that God and her were good. He knew her heart. She then announced she was having a child of her own and to be a good parent and raise her child with God's help, she had to live by example. She is doing that.<br /><br />I stood in front of my pew and wept. I was so proud that a young woman of her age, had the strength and courage to do that. I was proud that she knew what was important in life. I was even prouder when my husband walked the isle and hugged my daughter and stood by her and showed the total support of her family.<br />I must be doing something right.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-65088519898054621052010-01-23T17:40:00.000-08:002010-01-23T17:56:51.421-08:00Time with family..Priceless (except for the bowling shoes)<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1uo2mws2nI/AAAAAAAAADo/Bv0jG0PY7qg/s1600-h/bowlingPins.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1uo2mws2nI/AAAAAAAAADo/Bv0jG0PY7qg/s200/bowlingPins.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430119431796480626" /></a><br />Finally, my computer is fixed. I missed updating my column last night because our PC somehow developed a virus, despite the fact that we have active anti-viral software installed, go figure. My husband spent 4 hours last night working on it but he managed to get it back in working order. Yay! It sure makes me wonder how our household ever ran without one.<br /><br />Over the past few weeks, my family has really cut back on our spending due to my job situation and trying to save to open our new business. As a reward for not going to the movies or stopping for extras after school near as much as we used to, we took the kids for a game of bowling tonight. Yep, it was just one game. After shoe rental and 5 bowlers, we are $35 poorer but my kids had a ball. They were laughing at one another and goofing around the entire game. It was nice to do something a little bit different. Now we are back at home and all the kids are once again fighting over the television, computer and the last bowl of Fruit Loops. I honestly think they look for things to fight over.<br /><br />Tomorrow will be church and then our weekly trip to my see Nannie and Papaw. My parents are the main reason I didn't move away years ago. Well, them and my sisters. Now, I am so glad I didn't go anywhere. This is home. This is where all of my friends are and my family. This is where I can walk through the high school to bring my daughter a binder and know where the classroom is because I walked those very same halls when I was a know-it-all sophomore. This is where I watched my children each get baptised by the same preacher that baptised me all those years ago.<br /><br />Those things are priceless.<br /><br />There will always be obstacles and annoyances living in such a small community but I believe there are problems everywhere. In fact, I know there are. We may not be able to frequent a mall or a Starbucks but in exchange, I can frequent my Mom and Dad's house. I think I can give up a latte' for that. They're worth it.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-19031252577590473362010-01-21T17:51:00.000-08:002010-01-21T18:21:27.477-08:00A good kind of tired<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1kLhCjS3LI/AAAAAAAAADg/6GH-tCbS9ZM/s1600-h/23_exhausted_woman_laying_in_a_chair.png"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1kLhCjS3LI/AAAAAAAAADg/6GH-tCbS9ZM/s320/23_exhausted_woman_laying_in_a_chair.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429383488020339890" /></a><br />As I sit down tonight to gather my thoughts, I throw myself down in the chair to realize that I sure hope I don't have to get up anytime soon because I just don't know if I could muster the energy. Needless to say, I am tired. Very tired.<br /><br />This is a good kind of tired though. The kind you feel when you are satisfied with your day and all the accomplishments reached. I feel relaxed within. <br /><br />My life often gets crazy hectic, although it has been a little less hectic than it was before my job "change". Almost all of those days were hectic and more often than not, it was the kind of hectic where the top of my head felt like it was literally going to separate from my body. Like I was really going to "blow my top".<br /><br />I managed to gain some big steps today toward the opening of our newspaper office. The financing seems to be working itself out and I am excited to get started. (It is much easier to step forward with a hand full of cash!) Although this was good, my day continued and was topped off with the performance of my girls' recreation basketball team that I coach.<br /><br />This team consisting of seven girls all age ten or under, came into the season with only two of the members ever playing on a basketball team before. They have worked so hard and listened so well that with only one game left to go- they are undefeated. Although that is great, I am more genuinely proud of the way they present themselves. Even through intentional fouls (kicks or hits) they continue to hold their heads high and exhibit an exceptional amount of moral character. My prayer for these girls is that they hold that trait throughout their lives, despite the fact that so many people lose it along the way.<br /><br />Let's all remember that I have teenagers. At times, I worry about their choices and wonder if they ever listened to me at all. I wonder where their standard of morals are when they lie or do things they know isn't right. I have always told them God gives them a conscious for a reason- it is their road map to right and wrong- they need to follow it. Whenever they deter and ignore their map, I just remind myself that I was once a teen too. I didn't always make the best choices either but I always managed to get back on track at some point. They do too.<br /><br />I sit here now and go through my day in my head and realize that I managed a lot of good today. Steps toward my new business, a clean (well, cleaner) house and most importantly, I feel happy because seven little girls have shown me that being a winner comes from within, not on the scoreboard. Who knew that they would end up teaching me?Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-51074265759930400262010-01-20T18:05:00.001-08:002010-01-20T18:26:45.784-08:00Home sweet homeToday, as I drove through town on my way to pick up my children from school, I noticed several more small businesses that were closed. I am not sure if this was for the winter months, or for good. I certainly hope it isn't the latter. <br /><br />The economy has been this unrelenting force for the past couple of years that is quickly driving out small business. It is just too hard to compete against bigger stores that can carry a larger variety of items, for a cheaper price. <br /><br />Where I live, we have two local grocery stores. One is a larger chain food store and the other is a small, independently owned one. There have been so many times I have wished for a Kroger or a Publix to be close by, especially after I see an ad on television advertising milk for $2 a gallon. I am used to paying around $4. When you are spending an average of $200 per week on groceries for a household of six or seven, you tend to cut corners wherever possible. I clip coupons and watch for sales. I have to. Even with what I consider to be a large amount each week on food items, we never have steak or seafood or any other "high end" item. For us, it is often cubesteak and fish sticks instead and believe me, I am thankful each night that my children are able to go to bed with a full belly because I know there are so many that don't. <br /><br />Although I have spent a great deal of time in the past wishing for more choices to shop, I am at a point where I am thankful we don't have more. If there were more, that small town grocery store that I frequent, would never be able to keep their doors open, at least not in this economy.<br /><br />This all brings me to my next point. Some must think I am crazy to be investing what little savings my husband and I have into a new business, especially a newspaper, where we hear of so many failing daily. <br /><br />To me, this is the golden opportunity for us to start our new business. Yes, newspapers are failing all over the country but so are a lot of other things. Most of those are the bigger papers that employ hundreds of people. They have a large payroll to meet. The paper I worked at up until a couple of weeks ago, had dwindled the staff in our office to only me and one part time helper. I am used to doing it on my own, from ground up. I know I can because I have.<br /><br />This brings me back to another fact. Just like the grocery store list, I am thankful there isn't more competition where I live. I know that I can bring a paper that the locals desire. So many of the residents where I reside are retired. We don't often get covered by any newstations and the Atlanta paper don't even circulate daily in the mountains anymore. There is a demand for a good local news source. I am going to meet that demand. <br /><br />My point is, I believe in guidance from God. I believe with all the circumstances surrounding my recent job loss and the will-power I have pulled from within, I can do this; and do it well. I hate change, so this is a big step for me but instead of being scared of the challenges to come, I am excited. I can't wait to get back to the "grindstone", only this time, for myself, my family and my community.<br /><br />I will continue to support small town business as much as I can because I feel that is the backbone of our great nation. Those willing to step forward and believe in themselves. I don't know when the economy will start to look up but I do believe we can all pull together and help one another out until then. That is another benefit of living in a small town. A place where everyone "knows everyone elses business" but also a place where we know our friends... and can count on them.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-59881836359889445692010-01-19T19:54:00.001-08:002010-01-19T20:20:27.385-08:00I'm going to miss this<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1aCn9ftvfI/AAAAAAAAADY/Aanb58eTIN8/s1600-h/100_4891.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1aCn9ftvfI/AAAAAAAAADY/Aanb58eTIN8/s320/100_4891.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428670023875804658" /></a><br />Tonight, I sat down to watch my weekly 2 hours of Biggest Loser. That is by far, one of my favorite shows on t.v. I love to watch how dramatic the changes can be or how much weight can be lost in a single week. Well, any of you that follow this show knows that this season, the teams came in as pairs; either a father and daughter, husband and wife, friends, brothers or a mother and son, or daughter. Every week, someone goes home. For the past couple of weeks, it has been a member of either a mother/ daughter team or this week, a mother/ son team. When pleading their case, the team asks the others to vote off one or the other for various reasons. Of course, the past couple of weeks, it has been the mothers pleading to keep their children on the show so they can continue to lose weight. Not suprising. That is what gets me, the trainers and other contestants go on and on about how "giving" these mothers are to want it more for their children. My question is, don't all mothers think like that? At least the ones I know do.<br /><br />Seriously, what mother would not want her 400lb. child to continue to lose weight in place of themselves? What mother wouldn't give up her spot immediately for her child? I know I would. I know all my friends with children would. We have. Maybe not on a prime time television show but in everyday life.<br /><br />I know that many times I have given my last 10 bucks to my daughter for gas money or sat at home and did nothing so my other children could go to the movies with their friends. I know my friends have done the same for their own. <br /><br />I honestly think that just giving all you've got is all a mother knows. We give and give and sometimes lose sight of what we are really all about. And the thing is, we really don't mind. That is just how God created most mothers. <br /><br />I know that one day my children will be out of the nest. They will be on their own and won't need me to give them gas money or run them here or there. I will wake up and have no children at home to get off to school. I'm not sure what hobbies I will have because I don't have time or really even a desire for any now. I just know that building a home filled with love, compassion, discipline and giving is what I have been programmed to do since I had my first at the age of eighteen. <br /><br />A friend of mine and I joke all the time about how we will pull out our leathers and ride our Harleys when the day comes because we were both so young when we devoted our lives to cooking, cleaning, wiping noses (and bottoms) and making "emergency" trips to the school for a binder that got left at home and has that day's homework inside. <br /><br />I'm still uncertain about the Harley and leathers but one thing is for sure; for the next few years; I will continue to step aside so my children can benefit. After all, I'm going to miss this when they are grown.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-11073465427895498402010-01-18T09:23:00.000-08:002010-01-18T09:52:42.306-08:00Trying to play catch upWhew! I finally have about 20 or so minutes to sit down and write my column.<br />See, my kids are out of school today (yet again). It makes me wonder how I ever accomplished anything when they were small and I was trying to work and maintain a clean house; and by that I mean reasonably clean; laundry that isn't piled up so bad we have to dig our way out and floors that don't turn white socks black.<br /><br />As most of you know, I am working on starting another weekly paper in Towns County. Let me give you a few details: <br />We are aiming for our first issue to be published the first week in March. We are hoping to have an office set up and running (reasonably) smooth mid February. Currently, we are working on the name registration, web site and gaining advertising clients. Most of this, I can do from home. It just slows the process a bit when you are amist tying shoes and breaking up fights at the same time.<br /><br />I am not any different than other working mothers or really mothers in general. I used to long for the days when I would be able to stay home, clean my house spotless (yeah, right) and not flop into the bed at midnight from total exhaustion. After being home for the past couple of weeks, I have learned that none of that is realistic. I have managed to keep the house cleaner but not quite as clean as I imagined. I am still flopping in bed at night from exhaustion and now, I have a ting of guilt to go with all of the above.<br /><br />It made me feel guilty when my husband rose from the bed at 5a.m. to go to work and I knew that I could sleep longer. It bothered me when we had to stay home a lot more this weekend instead of taking in a movie or go bowling because I didn't bring home my paycheck. But, in the end, I know it will all be worthwhile for all of us. Very soon, I will be able to sling that guilt to the side and rise every morning and get back to doing what I love. <br /><br />Let me just give you an example of what my weekend has been like:<br />Saturday, we got up and went to my daughter's and then my son's basketball games (We won one and lost one by the way), so we were only gone about 4 hours. During that time, the two little dogs we keep inside, decided for whatever reason, to chew holes in two different pieces of our living room furniture. That furniture was relatively new, we had only had it paid off for about 6 months. Now, it is all covered with slip covers until we can buy more. Then, last night, I went to write this column and discovered the battery was dead in my laptop, which I got for my birthday in September. I went to plug it in to the charger, to discover that too, had been chewed. Now, I am awaiting a new charger. (Although I am thankful we have a desktop as well). Needless to say, a lot has been going on and not all of it good.<br /><br />Until the day comes when we open the door to our new business, I will continue to tie shoes and vaccum a little more often than I once did. That title is being a mom and I love that job too.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8765228133248801175.post-89038613314202299382010-01-16T19:29:00.000-08:002010-01-16T19:51:36.210-08:00Getting along with others, especially if you are married to them<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1KJOzdfRtI/AAAAAAAAADQ/wBr_0X1M7pk/s1600-h/Meandjohn.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTxLrmXBYXo/S1KJOzdfRtI/AAAAAAAAADQ/wBr_0X1M7pk/s200/Meandjohn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427551388359935698" /></a><br />As I was sitting here tonight, thinking about what to write, my husband made a very good point.<br /><br />Ever since I have been doing my column on-line versus when I did it weekly for the paper, I have been much nicer when writing about him than I did then.<br /><br />I was actually leaning to writing about the old saying "When it Rains it Pours". It seemed fitting due to the rain pounding against the windows right now in addition to my dogs eating (yes, eating) my living room furniture today. On top of all that, my daughter's car is making a 'sound', the fire wood we worked into the budget last minute was wet and hard to burn, the electric bill jumped up over a hundred bucks and the dryer has decided to take 2 hours to dry a load of laundry. You know, typical stuff. Anyway, this conversation is depressing so let's get back to my hubby.<br /><br />The difference as far as I can figure, has to be that he has straightened out lately. I mean, it can't be me. I am never wrong. (yeah, right)<br /><br />Honestly, I think I have been so focused on moving forward with my future business plans, cleaning the house, running after my children, clipping coupons and coaching my girls' basketball team (we are undefeated, yay girls!) that I haven't had time to sweat the small stuff. I mean, I am at the point that I appreciate him running to the grocery store so much more, that I don't mind if every item is wrong (yep, this has happened) or if he cooks dinner every now and then and burns it (again, this has happened) or if he just initials my daughter's homework so poorly that the teacher thinks she forgot to have it signed and did it herself (yep, this too).<br /><br />I think I will lay off him for a while and just focus on the dogs that insist on making trouble or my son's filthy room. Or, maybe I just covered enough to please my ego for a while. Or possibly, I really do appreciate him; I can handle black pork chops every now and then, especially being if I don't have to cook them myself.Becky Landresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12763907530310362509noreply@blogger.com0