A Mother's Second Wind

I have said for months, maybe years now, that being a mom is a thankless job.  It's hours and hours, days and days, of diapers and midnight feedings.  Then later there's nightmares, first-day-of-kindergarten jitters.  Followed by homework help, the first day of junior high, acne.  Then, before you know it, there's broken hearts, driver's licenses, and graduation.  And behind all of it is a dedicated mom who wants nothing more than for her child to succeed.  But while moms do it out of love, it can sometimes seem difficult to keep going, knowing there are very few, if any, times the words "thank you" come out of the mouths of those very same children.  It can definitely make it difficult to stay motivated.

I had been feeling a little bit down about my job as stay-at-home mom.  I had even been considering going back to work, feeling like my kids didn't really need me anymore.  I had all but lost my drive to do the difficult job of laundry, shuffling kids to and from practice, grocery shopping, homework help, and dishes.  But as the new school year was approaching, and I had no other prospects in line, I prayed that God would show me what He had in store for me.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,

as working for the Lord, not for men

Colossians 3:23



Over and over again, God brought this scripture to my mind.  It even came up in a sermon recently at church.  Obviously, God has a message for me.  And once I stopped running from what I thought I didn't want to hear, I opened my ears and my heart and heard God speaking to me loud and clear: Why are you running from this job, this important job I gave you, when this is what you are supposed to be doing?

I haven't felt enthusiastic about these mundane jobs and chores that are required of a stay-at-home mom... until just two short weeks ago, when I heard God's voice speaking to me.  And I immediately prayed that God would put it in my heart to do this job to the fullest, as if I were serving Him, and always doing my best.  Granted, it's only been two weeks, but I have thoroughly enjoyed my mundane jobs.  I feel renewed and re-awakened.  I feel like God has given me a second wind.

Gun. Control.

I live in Texas, where gun laws are pretty liberal.  Most folks have at least one gun in their home, and likely at least one in their car or on their person.  My husband, in fact, is a Concealed Handgun Licensee and we own multiple guns.  Someone trying to break in to our home wouldn't stand much chance with the small arsenal we have.  I like guns.  I like to shoot.  I have never shot anything but targets and maybe a beer can, but it feels good to gently squeeze the trigger and cause a chemical reaction to abruptly and rapidly launch a projectile to wherever I choose.  It feels good to be in control.

I have been asked how I feel about guns before.  There was a time, in my youth, when I was afraid of guns because all I knew of them was their power to destroy.  But I got a little older and learned more about them.  In the Navy, I learned about the physical and chemical properties of bullets, and the mechanics of the gun, that cause it to be effective (or ineffective, as the case may be).  I married a hunter, and he taught me about the types of weapons and ammo needed to bring down everything from a large white tail deer to a tiny squirrel.  I began to respect the class of weapons we broadly call "guns".  And, honestly, I began to really like them.

I hate that there have been so many instances recently of people abusing their opportunity - and their constitutional right - to bear arms.  From school shootings, to church massacres, to movie theater terrors... it's all terribly sad that someone used guns in such a terrible way.  And because the instance of such shootings has become too common, people begin to throw around terms like "restriction" and "gun control."  At this, I shudder.

Constitutional amendment aside, there are plenty of reasons why the government should not be allowed to take my guns away.  Making it impossible, or at least difficult, to own or buy a gun does not keep shootings like these from happening.  Only law-abiding citizens abide by laws.  So, creating laws to keep people from owning guns doesn't stop the bad guys from buying, trading, or otherwise owning and carrying guns (can you say prohibition?).  It just keeps the rest of us from legally being able to enjoy the sport of shooting, or defending ourselves.  In essence, we would be punished for following the law.  That hardly seems fair. 

Like I mentioned, I live in Texas - a state known for it's gun laws.  I believe, in all seriousness, that should a federal gun law pass forcing Texans to register their guns, surrender their guns, or give up their right to carry their guns, Texas would once again become a sovereign republic.  Mark my words.  That mess ain't gonna fly in Texas.

Look, let's be honest.  If we applied the logic that these kinds of tragedies should mean loss of privilege, none of us should or would own a car, a cell phone, or a steak knife.  Stuff happens.  There are always folks who do stupid, irresponsible, reckless, and nasty things.  But I'm not one of those folks, and I don't believe I should lose out on the constitutional right to keep and bear arms. 

"A well-armed populace is the best defense against tyranny."                                  -Thomas Jefferson

Because we are responsible legal gun owners, my husband and I have both taken safety courses for handling and firing our weapons. We have trigger locks where appropriate.  We have our guns out of the hands of our children, who have also been taught proper gun safety.  We treat our guns with the respect they deserve - after all, they can be deadly weapons if not handled properly.  We do things the right way.  And for that, we should be praised, not penalized. 

Don't take away my guns.

I believe in gun control:  It's called a steady hand and a clear head.

Consumer Alert!

I know I've mentioned it recently, but my husband and I just moved into our new home.  We are extremely delighted about the office space, the home theater, and having an extra bedroom.  But we quickly discovered that our phone reception was almost nonexistent.  If Matt wants to work from home, which I'm assuming he does, given the fact that we now have a home office from which he can work, he needs reliable phone connectivity.  So, we had to bite the bullet and go old-school and get a "land line".  Fortunately, this is a pretty inexpensive adjustment.  


My beef in this post is not with AT&T, although it puzzles me that I am receiving a "no service" message on my phone in an area so heavily populated.  No, my beef isn't even with Comcast, who is now providing the home phone bundled with my internet, though I have plenty of other reason to fuss about Comcast.  No, this is a warning to potential customers of ADT Security.


So, back to the home phone.  See, we had to get a home phone, which means we had to get a new phone number.  For FOUR DOLLARS A MONTH Comcast would ensure our number would remain unlisted.  Yes, they actually want to charge a fee for that.  Matt & I decided it wasn't worth the cost - after all, who uses a phone book anymore??  But it became evident that we were wrong not to pay the fee.


Enter ADT Security.  Two days after our home phone was installed, we got a solicitation call from an ADT Security salesperson.  My husband politely said we weren't interested and hung up.  Within an hour, call #2 from ADT.  Again, we aren't interested.  This is day 5 with the new phone number.  All but 18 of the calls listed on the phone's received call list are from ADT Security call centers across the country wanting for us to buy a security system.  SEVENTEEN sales calls in 5 days.  This doesn't include the half-dozen or so calls I haven't answered.


I tried to be polite at first.  I even requested that my number be removed from their call list.  But the calls keep coming.  I just took one about 30 minutes ago.  Their speech is always the same, and I always interrupt to tell them about this crazy saga - boy meets girl, boy marries girl, boy and girl buy house, boy and girl are harassed by relentless ADT sales people.  And finally a sales person informed me of the problem.  She said, "ADT call centers are not linked, so we have no way of knowing which call center has your number on the Do Not Call List."


So let me see if I understand this.  You are one of the largest security companies in the country, and yet you can't tell if a customer in the Houston market has already said no seventeen times?  And you're not concerned that your sales methods border on harassment?  But I should trust you to monitor my home for theft, fire, carbon monoxide, etc?  How can this possibly be a good idea?


The plot thickens.  I signed up for the National Do Not Call Registry at www.donotcall.gov, but this process can take weeks to take effect!  Is there no help for consumers - or I guess, in my case, a non-consumer - who do not want to be the target of dozens of cold calls that only result in unkind words and harsh tones followed by the deafening slam of the phone??  


I told the most recent caller that not only did I not now want ADT, I didn't want it 17 calls ago, and I won't want it in the future.  In fact, I told her, I would recommend that my friends not seek ADT as their security provider.  I would not in any way support a company that felt it was okay to pester people in their own homes, or that was so disorganized that they were unaware as to who had been called and declined!  Worse yet, what if I had told that first caller that I would love for them to come out and set me up with a security system and then I got 16 more calls wanting to know if I would be interested in their "secure monitoring"?!?  Can you say awkward?


I don't do this very often, but I will do it now. I highly encourage anyone who might be considering a security system to consider this: how secure can you really feel when the company that supposedly has your back doesn't even know if they have it or not?  












PS - we have gone another route for our security needs and I'm happy to say that our new system works great, without the harassment.  :)

A different side of a familiar lady

As I was unpacking boxes from the recent move, I came across a package of old pictures and slides.  I enjoy a good trip down Memory Lane, so I opened the envelope and began thumbing through goofy pictures of my brothers and sisters and I in our youth.  The 70s were not kind to any of us.  But after a few moments, and a lot of giggles, I came across a picture I was sure I had never seen before.  While the rest of the photographs had yellowed and faded, this particular picture was immaculate and crisp, like the day it had first been processed (yes, this is before we had the blessing of digital photography, kids).


I must've stared at it for at least a minute before I realized what I was staring at.  It was a picture of my mother, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her.  At first I didn't recognize her.  In nearly all the pictures from my youth she has short hair, glasses, and no makeup.  But in this picture, she looked incredible.  She was thin, but not sickly, and wearing very tight jeans (again, the 70s).  She had on high-heeled sandals and a low-cut pink blouse.  Her face was freshly made, with matching pink lipstick.  Her hair was shoulder-length, layered, and glossy.  If I didn't recognize her eyes, I might have thought it was a model.  She was absolutely gorgeous, leading me to believe this picture must've been taken before my brothers and sisters and I were around - we had a tendency to leave her looking tired and disheveled.  


Of all the things that looked incredible in her picture - her makeup, her clothes, her figure, her hair - there was one thing that was completely unmistakably "Vicki".  She barely cracked a smile - something common to all of her pictures, even dating back to her childhood photos.  And then there were her eyes.  Even if she had grinned from ear to ear, her eyes would never reveal what she was really thinking, and I guarantee that she was thinking about something.  Her mind never stopped.  And her eyes, never sad, but always deep in thought in some other time or dimension, wouldn't ever really let you see inside to what was going on behind her beautiful exterior.


I always thought my mom was pretty.  Especially in the pictures my grandma showed me of her sweet baby girl all the way through high school.  She was long and lean, with gorgeous hair and skin, and elegant and graceful.  She always looked confident, without looking egotistical.  But as pretty as I thought she was, she seemed to want to be photographed.  She enjoyed being on the other side of the camera, with the ability to do what cameras couldn't ever seem to do for her - see past the beautiful shell to the inner workings of one of the most intelligent, determined women I had ever had the pleasure to know.  In every picture, her eyes seemed to put up a barrier that wouldn't allow for emotion to show through.


My mom didn't dress up much when I was a kid.  She said pantyhose were uncomfortable, and high heels made her feet hurt.  She said she was glad when my dad's business took off and she was able to stay home with us kids.  Ironically, she once told me, her feet hurt from that job worse than an entire day in heels.  But the job of stay-at-home-Mom didn't allow for glamour.  She stayed busy running after us, shuttling us to and from school and practice, cleaning, running errands, and keeping a tight ship.  Now that I am home with my kids, I definitely understand - and appreciate - why she didn't have time or energy for dresses and makeup.  There were very few occasions for wearing something other than blue jeans and tennis shoes.  But in this picture, with her hair done, her makeup looking incredible, and figure-flattering clothes, my mom looked like a completely different woman.  I could see why my dad was so attracted to her.  


My mom was an amazing lady.  I treasure the memories I keep of her - even the sloppy, disheveled, messy ones.  But this was a side of her I rarely saw.  And I am so thankful that it was captured on film.