Move Over Chez Ami, It's Chez LB!

I think I've said it before, but my mother was the craftiest of the crafty. She came up with awesome ideas, and turned the most minscule, unassuming thing into a piece of artwork. When I was growing up, I remember the house being scattered with bridesmaids dresses, Mardi Gras trains, wind chimes made from spoons, sun catchers made from stones and pieces of glass, etc. She had a real gift.

All these years, though, I figured that gene just skipped my generation. My sister couldn't even match a decent outfit much less create an ensemble of beauty. And me?? Well, I took home ec and hated it. "Screw cooking and sewing," I thought. "That stuff is for frumpy old ladies with nothing better to do. If I want something good to eat, I'll go to a restaurant. If I want a pretty dress, I'll buy it!"

I've always been like that -- I want it, and I want it right now! I don't want to wait on anything. I am too impatient which is why my husband says I'm hard to buy for. Anything I want, I just go get it myself. You can only imagine his frustrations at Christmas. I usually end up getting my own gift, having it wrapped at Macy's, and letting him be surprised on Christmas morning.

Now that I have kids, though, I have gotten better. I still like instant gratification (Dave Ramsey's biggest nightmare), but I am a bit more patient. I don't get nearly as frustrated with tedious tasks, and I can wait out a temper tantrum like a champ.

Better yet, a positive side effect has come from the patience needed to be a mom. I am actually more apt to do things that I wouldn't attempt before -- those things that require me to focus for more than a few moments. It is true that my self-diagnosed ADD gets in the way some times, but I can stay focused if I don't have many interruptions. Let a boo-boo on the slide happen, though, and "now what was I doing with this?" will come to mind a few days later and the original task will never see completion. I'm typically able to work around it, though.

Now don't get me wrong; I still hate to cook. My kids love hot dogs, and I can eat cereal every night until I die. However, I have discovered my inner artist! I first noticed it when my kids became interested in coloring. I can literally color with my kids for hours on end. I love to color, and find it a natural cure for a bad attitude or overwhelming stress. When my mom was in the hospital withering away, I colored. My dad thought I was a nut job, but I was cool as a cucumber when he was falling apart.

Recently I decided to give sewing another try. Since I despised my home ec teacher, I figured maybe she was the reason I never got into it. My husband bought me a basic sewing machine for my birthday. (Well, I did since he doesn't buy gifts for me anymore.) I went to the local Hancock fabric, bought some material and an "easy" pattern, and cranked out a little outfit for my daughter.

Yes, I've discovered my inner artist, but it will never dominate like my inner perfectionist. It took me literally 2 days to sew this thing. I sewed and ripped out and sewed again and ripped out... It's a good thing I was working with cotton. After 2 days, it was done except for the needle work and trim. Awww.... Success??

Only partial success as I left it sitting for 2 months unfinished. Yesterday, though, I decided to do the needlework while I watched the kids ride their 4-wheelers. I even added a little decoration to it. The seams aren't the best looking and the arm holes have a few "bumps," but overall it looks pretty good. So good, in fact, that I let G-baby wear it today. To top it off, nearly everyone I came in contact with raved about the outfit! Honestly, I had 3 people in Walmart alone ask me where I got it.

However, I don't know if or when I will try again. It took so much time! Who knows...maybe I'll find some inspiration from an $80 dress at The Freckled Frog. I hate paying so much for those simple, yet ADORABLE, dresses and outfits. Now, if I can only figure out how to make shoes...
;-)

I just added this one because I can't ever get them to be nice to one another. This was a first!

I couldn't get her to put down the make up, but the pocket has a daisy coming out.

There's another daisy on the leg. The stem and leaf are white ric rac.

My posers... Don't tell them I cut off their heads to get a shot of the outfit.

20 lbs. in 5 days???

If anyone has any great ideas or full-proof diets that will help me lose 20 lbs. in 5 days, I am all ears! The dreaded (I mean that lovingly, of course) reunion is next weekend. How did I let it sneak up on me?? Uuuggghhh... I really wanted to lose about 15 lbs. before this weekend. With all the chaos known as my life, I've just not been able to pull it off. Now I'm desperate! I need a quick fix -- laxatives, a colonic, self-induced vomiting, a magic potion -- ANYTHING!

I wish cosmetic surgery was available through a drive-thru window for $9.99. I'd get my "fix" every week. Some people think Joan Rivers looks bad, but hell, she's 100 years old! Yes, she's had a million cosmetic surgeries. But she still wears a size 6, and you can't find a wrinkle on her face or neck. You put her up against any 100 year old lady, and I bet you'd be impressed.

Screw the pedicures, give me liposuction! Hey, maybe the Asian community would get their entire families trained in operating that lipo vacuum and the chemical peel lasers. They have the nail thing down to an art. If a nail salon isn't owned by an Asian family, I won't even go inside. Why bother?!? I already know the pedicure will be nowhere near as good as that which I can get for $27 at T's Nails.

I hate that I am so obsessed with my weight. I wish I could just be happy with my body. I am so jealous of my friends who are able to accept themselves for who they are. I am too much of a perfectionist and way too critical of myself. It's not just my weight, either. It's in everything I do.

Last weekend, we went through some pictures from back in the day. I remember how obsessed I was with my weight back then, too. I always thought I was too fat. Now that I see myself, I think "WTH?" I don't care what anyone says, 120 lbs. is NOT fat. I can remember being obsessed with the scale in college. I would drink Slimfast for a week if I went over 110 lbs. I weighed 103 lbs. when I first went to college. When I left, I was 120 lbs. How I wish I could get there again...

Hmmm, I wonder where I can get a high colonic in Memphis this week.

The Silver Lining in My Dark Cloud

Today we put my mother to rest. She is buried near one of her very favorite locations -- the beach. Our lives will never be the same now that this beautiful person has passed, but I am content knowing that she finally has a piece of beachfront property.

While preparing for the funeral service, my family and I had the longest, most awesome trip down memory lane. I found some incredible pictures of my parents when they were dating! They were high school sweethearts married nearly 44 years so you can only imagine all the memories captured in those photos. I went through hundreds of pictures, and noticed a common theme. In every picture of my parents, they looked extremely happy.

It was obvious how much they loved one another, and had a great time together. I found pictures of them dancing, playing at the beach, hanging out with friends, celebrating Mardi Gras...just basically living life to the fullest. I also found some of my mom's poetry. I knew she was the artistic type. That women could make a precious keepsake out of two cottonballs and a toothpick. However, I was further amazed at her ability to write. There was even a poem about me! I always knew she loved me (she was never scared to say it), but I didn't realize just how much and how much she admired me. As a mom of my own two precious gifts from God, though, I totally understand those feelings.

Then, of course, we had to reminisce about all the great times we had together. If you think I'm hoot, you should just meet some of my relatives! The stories were great. I laughed until I cried. We talked about how our Maw-Maw stalked us when we visited. The woman lived in a house with 4 rooms that totaled roughly 700 square feet, but she'd follow us around the house scared to death that we might touch something. God forbid we opened her fridge!

We talked about my mama and her sassiness. I have such fond memories of my Aunt N and her sitting at N's kitchen table drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. They talked about everybody and everybody's business. No one was safe from those critique sessions. At the funeral, I found myself praying that they weren't in heaven discussing how much weight I'd gained.

Yep, memory lane is probably the most therapeutic place. In those hours and days spent with my cousins, aunts, and uncles, I rarely cried, frowned, or felt sorry for myself. The only sounds heard when we were together were the sounds of laughter. We laughed at all the crazy things we'd done, and all the crazy people we loved.

We laughed at the big hairdos and the clothes, how skinny or fat we were, how 18 kids played "Mother May I" on a 3 foot x 3 foot walk way... We remembered in great detail every event at which each photo was taken. We laughed about Aunt S sleeping on a bean so she'd have a dimple. We laughed about how we'd shove 15 kids into a pinto to chase fire trucks. We laughed at how my daddy could pull some story right out of his rear and make you believe it. It was wonderful and touching, and my heart still melts when I think about it.

As quirky as my family is, it is the only one I've got. We may not call as much as we should or visit as often as we'd like, but our bond remains as strong as it was when I entered this world. I certainly hope we all stay true to our word and try not to drift apart. I hope we will start to have planned, organized family reunions instead of impromptu gatherings at funerals. I don't want my kids to miss out on memory lane. Nor do I want them to ever forget any of the looney, beautiful people that made me who I am.

These are just a few of my favorite pictures found...

Mom and Dad cuddling at some Mardi Gras ball

The young couple (maybe 25 years old???) with us kids

Mom and Dad as teenagers playing at the beach

Ode to Mother

My mom is barely hanging on. Her vital signs are steadily weakening. To keep my mind busy, I wrote my mother's obituary. It was hard, but I think it is fitting. For the purpose of my blog, however, I did not include full names because some people are kinda funny like that:

It is with deepest sorrow that the family of CJT, 61, announces her beautiful soul passed from this world. After a long, hard-fought struggle, she passed peacefully at the University of Alabama (UAB) Hospital in Birmingham, AL, surrounded by loved ones.

A longtime resident of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, she was a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, sister, daughter, and friend. She was happily married for over 43 years, and she raised three loving children. Her family and friends brought her great happiness as she did them. Her charming persona
touched the lives of many people, and her legacy will remain.

CJ is preceded in death by her father TWD, Sr., her mother MJD, and her daughter MT.

She is survived by her loving husband, GJT, Sr. of Biloxi; her son-in-law and daughter, JPB and LTB of Tennessee; and her son GJT, Jr. of Biloxi. Surviving siblings include her sisters MD of Jackson, LP of Gulfport, and DL of Lumberton and her brothers, FD and TD of Biloxi. Her grandchildren are
JT, JMD, and JD of Gulfport; GJT, III of Biloxi; and EB and GB of Tennessee. In addition, she had three great grandchildren.

The family would like to thank the team of doctors, nurses, and other staff who cared for her at Gulfport Memorial Hospital and UAB Hospital. Special appreciation goes to the staff at the Palliative Care Unit at UAB as well as all those who offered prayers and support.

Visitation and burial services will be held...

I think I will work on a eulogy next. Morbid, but necessary.

EDITED TO ADD:

My mother passed away peacefully at approximately 8:40 p.m. CST on Friday, June 12, 2009. God just needed her more than us.

Thank God for Xanax

Today was another very long day. I slept all of about 3 hours last night so I was extremely tired and irritable. Not to mention, my face looks like the before picture in a Pro Activ Solution advertisement, and I started my period. Life pretty much sucks!

My heart is racing, and I can't catch my breath. These are either signs of congestive heart failure or severe anxiety. Since I described my symptoms to my mother's nurses on multiple occasions without her so much as flinching, I'm assuming my problem is the latter. Lucky for me (and my relatives), my wonderful doctor called me in a prescription for Xanax. If the referring WebMD physician (i.e. myself) has misdiagnosed my condition, I'll at least be able to remain calm during my heart attack.

As for my mom, she is still hanging on to every breath. Her breathing has become more and more labored, and the frequency of morphine and Ativan shots has increased. In my eyes, though, she is already gone. No more moaning and wretching. No more grimacing as the blood pressure cuff tightens. No more jerking away from the oxygen mask. Her pupils no longer dilate with light changes, and I no longer recognize her beautiful face anymore. She's gone to join her mother, daughter, and best friend at the big Crawfish Festival in the sky. (I am certain God will not keep her from enjoying the finer things in life - even in the after life.)

I am in a state of panic, however, because I am afraid of forgetting her face. Like when my sister and grandmother died, I'm trying to concentrate on something that I will never forget. With Meme, it was her thin hands and nobby fingers. With grandmother, it was her twisted, crooked index finger and her long, strong fingernails. Since I inherited those fingers, I will never forget them. With my mom, I'm drawn to her hands as well.

Mama has beautiful hands, too. They are small, but not frail. They are thin in the ring area. No pudginess below the knuckle. Her wedding rings always twisted around her ring finger making her look so delicate. She never liked really long nails as she loved to sew and create things. But her nails were always nicely shaped except for that finger that was smashed in a car door when she was a kid. That fingernail never fully recovered.

The last time I visited her before she was admitted to the hospital this time, I gave her a little manicure and a pedicure. I clipped and filed her nails, washed and massaged her hands and feet, and painted her nails a deep pink. She still had the polish on her when she was administered to the UAB. We finally took off the fingernail polish yesterday, but her feet still look freshly pedicured.

Uh-oh, the Xanax is kicking in... Thank you all who posted to me on Facebook. It means a lot. Unfortunately, however, FB is a blocked website here at UAB. I cannot post there, and can only read my wall postings and messages via email. I hope to be home soon. Until then, please pray, and if you find it in your heart, register as an organ donor. The website is:

http://www.organdonor.gov/

From Chocolate to Morphine

I haven't felt much like blogging lately. My life is like a roller coaster right now. We spent a terrific week in Disney with the kids. They are a bit older now, and really enjoyed it. E wanted to ride Splash Mountain over and over and over... He loves roller coasters! Unfortunately, G is about 1 inch too short to meet the requirements.

Before I even got back from Disney, the proverbial "other shoe" dropped. My mom was hospitalized on Saturday, May 30th, because of an agressive infection in her digestive tract. She was transferred to UAB a few days later. So as soon as my plane landed in Memphis, I had to pack my bags and head to Birmingham. I've been in my own bed only twice since summer vacation started.

Today I received word that the end is very near for my sweet little mother. The doctors have done all that can be done. They are now administering morphine to stop the pain. For this, I am glad. My mother has never been one to take pain medication. Even when she needed it, she wouldn't take much more than plain Tylenol. In fact, I think that chocolate was her favorite pain reliever. Now I know why she kept that stash of M&Ms. Regardless, she probably refuse the morphine if she were able to have a say. She hates being "goofy," as she'd put it.

I am trying to keep my composure as much as possible for my dad's sake. The poor man has been with her for 45 years. His life will never be the same. I try to comfort him, but I'm pretty certain God is the only one who can do that.

God, if you are listening, please give my daddy the strength to go on. Give him the peace he'll need to smile again. Above all else, give him the selflessness it's going to take for him to let her go...

Here's my mom with me and the kids at Christmas in 2007. That was the last time she was able to make that long drive to TN.

Mama and I opening Christmas gifts with the kids.