second chances

Regret

I would say it is used to redirect the energy of our “paths of misfortunes”.  It helps us become more modest and approach things in a more positive light.  It makes us want another chance….to want to go back in time and erase, fix or change.  Maybe it is a way of force feeding much needed direction to one’s self and others.  With this in mind and given the many regrets I have had in my life- I have had a few-  I try to teach my kiddos a few things to help shine their armor a bit to protect the boo boos of life lesson’s hard knocks.

 In so many words…

…Embrace who you are.  Ignore the judgments.  Find peace with the person you have become.  Believe in something…start with what is inside.  Form your opinions with tact and grace, and allow yourself to change your mind.   I could go on.

I realized this weekend that those blurbs of ‘mom-isms’ are starting to stick in a very good and healthy way.  I realize that Man Child and Endless Pit are listening and starting to piece together what has been preached to them many times, and applying them accordingly.  Before I started to pat myself on the back, I realized that it was only because they are starting to struggle with a few issues that come as little boys get older.

(enter nerves)

This is life.  This is what I have been amp-ing up for to help them choose wisely as things get a little harder.  I am confident they will grow to be fine young men- even have a few regrets- but I know that somehow, at some given moment they actually heard me…

…and I have no regrets about that. J

child's play

“Big Boy?”

“Heeeeeey! Whatchoo doin’, Dork Face.’”

“Nuttin’.  Callin’ YOU, Dork-a-rama.”

Mutual laughter.

That is (no lie) the guaranteed banter my twin brother and I share when we call each other to check in every week, or more than likely two.  The initial name calling lasts about a minute.  It’s kind of like a competition of who can hold our breath the longest.  We keep trying to outdo each other’s name calling by creative standards until someone FINALLY just gives in, laughs and says “How are you?” 

Some might find it odd, but child’s play works for the two of us.  It guarantees a smile at the beginning of the conversation.

I would say we are still pretty dependent on one another, even though...geographically speaking… his song is “Rocky Top Tennessee” and mine is “OOOOOOK-lahoma”. Ever since we were little, we have always known of each other’s whereabouts  and well-being, whether we agreed with it or not, and trust me, we have had our disagreements.

A huge turning point for us was when I knew he was leaving for University of Tennessee on a football/ track scholarship and I was going to compete in pageants so I could go to University of Oklahoma.  Obviously our “team” was disbanding, and I did not know how to handle that.  That thought was completely “alien” to me.  I mean, everyone spoke about “big brother” watching… but I literally had a big brother watching over me…all the time.  I was shy and was completely fine hiding behind his presence and accomplishments.  But all of a sudden, I was not “Big Boy’s” twin sister Erin anymore, it was just… Erin.  She was on her own to find her own voice and notoriety, and had NO CLUE where to start.  I believe he was lost in the sense of he didn’t have anyone to “watch over”, this time he was the one being watched.

I believe the phone bill was upwards of $600.00 that month.  We realized how much we missed each other and what adjustments needed to be made, but we also realized that although we were miles apart, we were still a part of each other.  Our freshman year was the first time we realized we would be just fine this far apart.  It was then we decided to keep things humorous and it was the first time my twin brother closed the conversation with…

“You can’t let that stuff get to you.  Just let it go. Okay?  Okay?”

“I’M NOT….I’m fine, really.”

“Okay. Well, I love you, Dorky-pine.”

“I love you, Dork-a-saurus.”

..and the guaranteed banter continues today in some similar, creative way.  No lie. J

bittersweet lil' snack

“I don’t like it when people plant seeds of doubt and camouflage it as concern.   It completely thwarts my mojo and throws me a little off balance.  Then I get frustrated, pout and find a way to kick their ass for attempting to steal my thunder.

Then, I want to have my ass kicked for allowing that game to commence.   Shame on me.”

I found this little "treasure" while going through some old rants I had trapped in my mind and thankfully decided to journal waaaaaaay before the word ‘blog’ even entered my vocabulary.  

Fun stuff, huh? (Ahem). 

I believe we all have a right to go through our moods and channel them accordingly.  The fruits of human nature are pretty delicious. However, if you don’t keep yourself fed with the good stuff, life becomes bitter, eventually toxic and crushes ones spirit….completely.

I highly recommend finding a way of accompanying the “foul demons” out and I recommend doing it BEFORE the head spins and green substances spew. 

(Still in Oz, grabbing the dog and merrily skipping down the yellow brick road boldly singing “Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead”)

my smiles

A while back, I decided I wanted to get involved in the choir in my church.  I missed singing and needed an outlet.  I LOVED the variety the Minister of Music brought to each service, and wanted to be a part of it. Even though I always enjoyed singing, I never really felt comfortable doing it on my own for fear of being judged and dropping through the trap door in the pulpit (silly, I know).  I remember the first time I was asked to do a solo in front of the church congregation at Easter. You know, the one where everyone comes out of the woodwork to attend the service, so they brought in "extra chairs" for those souls that wanted to be saved that morning.  I knew my style-not necessarily fitting for a Methodist church, only in the privacy of my shower, kitchen or living room- bluesy, sultry, vocal improvisation...everything but slinking on the grand piano, so to speak. However, I found one. One with  a message that even the “extra chairs” could understand and appreciate.


"Were You There " arranged by Crystal Lewis.


It was just a piano on the track. I didn't know anyone at that time to play for me so, my point? It was me and a whole lotta eyeballs looking AT me. I remember the nerves, the shakes, the breathing... I was a mess.  In my bold attempt to agree to do this, I failed to confess to myself, the music director and his wife that I suffer from SEVERE stage fright, even while competing on the big stage at the Mabee Center way back when.  It was too late now. My name was in the program.  I was front and center and the music was cued. No turning back.


“Damn”....oh yes I did, but to myself. (God understood).


Man -Child and Endless Pit were strategically placed sitting next to their daddy.  I loved to sing to them and with them at home and knew they would want to be a part of hearing mommy sing for the first time at church.  I remember closing my eyes during the intro, praying I would a) start on key, b) remember the words and c) ask God to forgive me... because I was going to fail this attempt in telling this story that I so badly wanted people to open their hearts and apply accordingly.  Raising the microphone to position- and yes, my eyes still closed- it was time to "throw it out there". The first phrase, I heard myself resound over the sanctuary. Continuing on, I realized I had to do the unthinkable.  I had to open my eyes.  This was not for me, this was for the congregation and the performer in me knew I had to acknowledge them. Slowly I opened my eyes, looked toward the back and there was Man- Child, leaning out toward the aisle so I could see his big brown eyes. He was smiling, hanging on every word and note I delivered. Then I saw Endless Pit’s baby blues right beside him, equally as entertained.  Deliver I did… completely outta the ball park.


My boys are my smiles, my reason to sing, and my comfort and confidence in knowing that yes, through Christ, I can do all things. :)

my scepter

My earliest memory of a vacation was the summer of 1975.  I remember being with my brothers, sister, mom, aunt and “Munner” (my grandmother).  We all piled in the big blue station wagon and put all fellow travelers to shame as we visited EVERY tourist trap imaginable in the Ozarks.  Shepherd of the Hills (the fire)… the Fantastic Caverns (the trolley bus)… Silver Dollar City (lollipops)… well, this is all a 5- year- old can lock in her overactive brain for safe keeping 35 years later.

Of course, my favorite was Silver Dollar City.  I took it all in.  Grandpa's mansion- the huge lollipops, the tree bridge- and the huge colorful lollipops everyone had, the log ride- and the big huge colorful lollipops everyone had but me….SIGH- A vivid memory indeed!

By golly, I wanted one of those lollipops. The big round one, with blue and orange and pink and yellow on a long wooden stick just like the one everyone in the park seemed to be showcasing and devouring.  Next thing I knew we were all  in one of the stores with all kinds of treasures… t-shirts, stuffed animals, wooden games, glass animals, taffy , chips, different items you would find at a grocery store and (squeal!) BIG HUGE LOLLIPOPS!! It was then I knew…

Heaven exists in the Ozark Mountains. 

Yes, I was in heaven and heavenly angels were shining their light on a tree of lollipops as I was blinded by one that was perfectly colorful, just low enough for me to reach (the angels planned it that way, of course- just….for….me).  I grasped the celestial gift in my hand and took it upon myself to go ahead and unwrap the technicolor confection, sit on the closest “throne” I mean bench, and voila! It was just me and that lollipop. No one even came close to touching this dream, ‘cause I was officially royalty.  This was my scepter.  My tiara was in the back pocket of my dirty holey jeans and my smile implied...

“Yeah- y’all go ahead and settle for the Chiclets, this is my destiny.”

Munner knew her “rough and tumble” was in a good place, and paid accordingly.  I remember.

Like I said….there is only so much a 5- year- old can lock in her brain for safe keeping 35 years later. ; )

brilliant

I learned a little gem of a lesson the other day.

I went too far with my sassy, sarcastic banter while chatting with a friend.

In a text, I said…

“I’m sorry. No more sass, promise”.  

In no time wasted, my dear brilliant friend said… 

“Don’t apologize, embrace your sass, I do.”

Creatively speaking, I was ‘that close’ to changing perfect lip gloss to petroleum jelly in one quick gloppy swipe just to make it “go away” and was completely ready to lose that feisty quality to maintain composure.

Shiny lips.  No sass.

Friends don’t let friends lose themselves for the sake of saying “I’m sorry”.

Flying by the Seat of Our Pants- Duke's Southern Kitchen review (because I can)

I have a friend in the FB world who is a complete smartass. 

He is deliciously witty and hilarious…an amazing daddy and a very proud family man.  He passed the word along that his wife was the new sheriff to a new restaurant in town serving “Gulf Coast and Southern cuisine with a more upscale approach”.   The owner currently owns Sonoma and the Brasserie on Brookside.  I could not wait to try.

Being the Princess that I am, I have been dropping subtle hints to Handsome that we need to try Duke’s Southern Kitchen.

“We need to go try this new place”

“I really want to go to Duke’s”

“Okay, really? This weekend. ”

YAY!  This weekend it was!!!!

I have seen pictures of the restaurant, knew what type of food, familiar with menu….in no way those pre-conceived ideas even come CLOSE to what we experienced for a 5 top on a Saturday, 6:45 in the evening ‘walk- in’ with no reservations. The experience BLEW ‘EM OUT OF THE WATER!

Heather Kingham, General Manager of Duke’s, asked for my name.

 “Minnix, 4 & ½”.

“Did you have reservations?”

“No, darn it, I’m one that likes to fly by the seat of my pants. I’m sorry.”

“No problem” (whispering numbers and other parties to the hostess).

 “Okay, your table is ready.”

I was fascinated with the décor of the dining area.  It was warm and inviting, yet simplistic. Not cramped, workable for large parties (did not see what was upstairs, but only guessing they accommodated large parties there).   The bar area looked trendy and fun…not too uptight and rushed.  It was the perfect venue to simply walk up to the bar, have a drink and be completely comfortable and FABULOUS!

Once we got our seats, we were approached in a very timely manner by a little firecracker of a server, Stacie- who had AMAZING tattoos on her arms.  SO wanted to ask all about them, but figured Handsome would not go for the banter and it would push Man Child and Endless Pit’s fascination even further. That will wait for my next visit at the bar…

 …but I digress.

Stacie was ready to take our drink order. I knew EXACTLY what I wanted… “Carolina Cocktail, please”. Handsome ordered the ‘Velvet Elvis’ (I think both of us were ready to take a “mental vacay”-numb gums and all).

Delicious x2 for me, Responsible x1 for Handsome.

Time to order.  I will say, the kids menu had nothing to be desired for our 9 year -old (dammit) so, he chose the Hoecake Sliders with Pulled Pork and Spicy Peach Glaze from the appetizer selection, Man Child was quick to choose the Chicken Fried steak with Collard Greens and Potatoes, Handsome chose the Catfish with Green Tomato Relish and Sweet Corn Stuffing and I chose the Hickory Smoked Chicken with Apple Au Jus and Cheese Grits.

O…..M…..SHIZZLE, LET THE PLATE SHARING BEGIN!  All of us were celebrating our first bites with an eye roll of ecstasy , nods and smiles. The only complaint came from Endless Pit, who stated he could not finish his “because it was just so rich with the bites of Chicken, Chicken Fried Steak and Catfish”.

Once our plates were cleaned (doing everything but licking them ), Stacie approached us about dessert. The boys chose the blackberry cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream. The serving was nothing obnoxiously big, but a size that catered to sharing among Handsome, Endless Pit and Man Child VERY WELL.  They did the right thing in saying “It is good, but not as good as yours”.

Time for the check…

I will say it was a little pricier than what we wanted to pay for a “fly by the seat of our pants” family meal out, but Handsome and I agreed it is Spring Break!! We chalked this up to a fun night out with the family with fab food and fun cocktails!  Would we come back??? ABSOLUTELY!

…all in the name of my FB mentor of sarcasm, KingDaddy!

I want a "do-over"

Being born and raised in Oklahoma, you learn not only the fear of possibilities, but how swiftly those possibilities change in an instant.  We see that familiar green/grey wall cloud and the slight damp breeze and you know to immediately check the weather for patterns and plan to act accordingly for the following…

Thunderstorm watch

Thunderstorm warning

Tornado watch

Tornado warning

…when actually we are looking to see how much “red” is coming to our area. Then we know to bolt when we hear the comfort and panic of one statement.

“Take…cover…immediately”.

_______________________________________________________________

Regarding the catastrophe in Japan, I don’t know WHAT I feel at this moment.  I am not sad, not angry; certainly not comfortable…just numb. NUMB.

I want a “do- over”.

I want to go back 48 hours, where I knew the international cycle of production and well- being was on auto pilot and our biggest concern was still jobs, gas prices and “winning”.  I want to go back to where we felt secure knowing life was good and living it no less than to its fullest with no worries of things beyond our control.  Sure, we have experienced devastation with tornadoes and earthquakes and flooding and yes, even tsunamis before…but as we continue to recover, we grasp at the hope that the devastation will end and we learn from our shortfalls and lack of preparation. 

We wanted to believe we would be prepared… next time.

Now the horrific content that we were so grateful we could only imagine has become our new reality.  Nuclear radiation…no utilities….missing persons…explosions… you can’t help but pull your head out of the sand and think..

“This is not about what has happened…it is about what WILL happen and what will CONTINUE TO HAPPEN without a “red” area to observe and no “take cover immediately” to lean on to help us predict and act accordingly.”

I will continue to pray for those both directly and indirectly affected by this international tragedy, just as I will continue to pray that we, as an international body, will continue to come together as devastation and destruction strikes again.

Living the Dream

As the family sits and watches American Idol, the question always comes up like clockwork from Endless Pit…

“Who do you think is going to win?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Do you think you could have won American idol if you auditioned…auditioned…auditioned….”

In a dream-like state, I look to my left….

”Yo, Dawg, what up?!” 

“Oh, not much Randy, keepin’ it real, but I ….am…WIPED!  The boys had a pretty busy day and I just didn’t feel it.  It felt like I was on Broadway or at karaoke night just waiting for the moment that would do it for me.  It just wasn’t my night. ”

I look to my right…Jenny from the Block tilts her head to the side. ”Well, I went through that exact same thing Erin, with my twins, you know what I mean?  Be like me.  Just trust your nanny will take care of it, and if all else fails, put on a fabulous glitzy number and ACT THE PART…let the song come through, BUT BE TRUE TO YOU!  She throws Handsome a wink and a ‘high-five’ as he is frozen by shock, awe and drool.

(Blank stare…head to the kitchen)

“Well, hell-OOO  there OK-la-HOM-a!”

“Steven.  Darling.  What are you doing in here- besides looking fabulously adorable?”

“I thought I would help myself to a little brownie and Coke.”  

My sweet Steven is lounging on the counter leaning up against the cabinets.  He is eyeballing my boots, the suggested glitzy number cut down to ‘there’ (being true to myself) and my necklace -strategically placed to hang right above my cleavage… just to make him look.

“You look beautiful.”

 As I flash him a coy smile, blush and start the dishes, I randomly start humming a tune as his eyes twinkle and he smiles his brilliant smile.  He starts to do what he does best; improvising drum sequences on the dirty dutch oven as I begin to sing my sultry version of Jeff Beck/ Joss Stone’s “People Get Ready”. I let him go ahead and take the lengthy guitar solo with a nasty scat pattern as I wipe down the counters and bag up the trash. He doesn’t miss one move I make or one lick of soul.

Heading out to the garage with the garbage, I pass Handsome talking to J.LO and Randy talking music uploads with Man-Child and Endless Pit. Ryan Seacrest stops me. “Tell us what you were feeling as you were singing with Steven.  What can you tell our audience?”  I look back at my judges- Randy, J Lo, Sweet Steven, Handsome, Man Child, Endless Pit and Bilbo- each holding up score cards with smiley faces….

“….Mom….Mom…Mom….Mom…Mom…”

I shake my head and smile. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you think you would have won?!”

“Poots, I already have.” ;)

The Pantry, the TV and Flannel Pajama Bottoms

Buds are sprouting, birds are chirping and the lawn guy is spray- painting the teal green emergent on the brown, lifeless grass.  All signs of the new beginning- Spring.  Can I hear a resounding “WHEW!”??

It’s hard to believe that a little over month ago, the view was white and quiet- which for a minute there SHUT…TULSA ….DOWN. 

Yes, most would think being “holed up” on this ship for 2 weeks with a newborn and his two big brothers was a “blessing”…a “joy”… quite the entertainment to keep anyone busy.  However, this cruise director experienced something a little different.   Quite honestly, dare I say it; it was an illusion to cover a post-partum “funk”.  My lofty goal of being super mom and making it look easy slapped me on the ass as I was gasping for the breath of accomplishment. 

I found myself introverted, reclusive, moody, weepy, laughing in hysterics while staring at the crown molding and of course, tired from waking every 3 hours to feed the little blue babe.  Sure, Facebook, Twitter and WWF saved all of us from going too batty with our rants of disbelief (i.e. temperatures, sand trucks and lack of bread, milk and eggs), but as much as we all love each other, eventually you step away from the cross- eyed crack and realize you are posing as a persona that you cannot keep up with.

Here was my 2 week reality… the pantry, the TV, and flannel pajama bottoms.  All were my detrimental vices, simply because they translate into “gaining weight, boredom and disgusting comfort”.  But then again, they eventually saved me from total destruction- I had to cope somehow!  I knew once the snow melted, I had to become presentable and functional again.  I needed to get back to work.  How I yearned to breathe and discover everything would fall back to some kind of healthy routine.  I was grasping at the idea of light, the laughter would follow.  I could go on a walk… take Bilbo out to the store…get my hair done…nails done….I could even feel social with my true friends without staring at a screen or a phone (GASP!). 

So a month later, I am happy to report the sun is out, the pond is melted and collecting ducks and geese, I report back to work Monday, and the family is functioning and thriving to the fullest.  The cake???  I smell the sweetness in the air.  The icing??...

My constant vices are now mascara, lip gloss and my wedding ring…

Those translate to “Eyes, Lips and SPARKLE”! J