Gone, Not Forgotten

Spring Break 2015 is in the books. We had an awesome time. Unfortunately, Mr.B couldn't join us because of work. (Stupid salt mine strikes again.)

The kids, me and Papaw loaded up in his minivan and made the trek to Arizona to visit my brother and his family. If you're driving that far, there are things you must see. Here are a few highlights:

1. Albuquerque, New Mexico - there was a lot more to see here. But we were short on time and had bigger sights to see. I have a feeling that if my dad had known that I was on a mission to see Walter White's home on Breaking Bad, he would have thought I'd been the one doing meth. I was on a Heisenberg mission though.  We made it before dark. It was awesome.

2. Painted Desert/Petrified Forest - I'd seen this as a child and forgot how awesome it is. The Painted Desert is stunning. The Petrified Wood? Meh. But okay. It's part of the trek.

3. The Grand Canyon - Pictures do not do this place justice. At all. It is truly majestic and powerful. The kids were actually impressed. I could have spent a ton more time there with different camera lenses. The kids would have been miserable and the Mr. B didn't let me leave home with the good lenses. (He's a touch protective.) Maybe he and I can go back someday without our kids.

4. Winslow, Arizona - Yep, from the song by the Eagles, "Take It Easy." We stood on the corner. Just like in the song. I'm easily impressed.

5. Route 66 - It's just kind of cool. Tons of kitschy stuff.

6. Gold King Mine & Ghost Town - This is located at the top of a mountain in Jerome, Arizona. It had cool stuff. Lots of old trucks and LOTS of junk, too. One visit is sufficient. It was cool, but I can't imagine I'll ever go back.

7. Organ Pipe Cactus - This stuff is SO cool. There's a lot near Phoenix.

8. Border Patrol Checkpoints - We didn't get stopped. But the van in front of us did. Whew. That would have delayed us.

9. White Sands National Monument - We've been several times before. The kids still love it. In the spring, it rocks. It's not too hot. Warning though, you need to be thoroughly prepared to clean your kids off when you leave.  And no matter how prepared you think you are, you aren't. Never to fear, there's a great car wash in Alamogordo where you can vacuum your vehicle out.

10. Mexican Canyon Train Trestle - First of all, Cloudcroft, NM is one of my favorite places on the planet. It's gorgeous there. The hike to the trestle on the other side is pretty awesome, too. I wish we'd had time for that, too. But it takes time and willing participants. Cam would have. Next time we're out there, I'm totally taking him. 

2030 miles later, we made it home. It was a lot to cram in one week. SO worth it. My only regret is not adding a day to the trip and going down to Tombstone on the way home. I'll save that trip for when Mr. B can join us. We also missed seeing the Texas Rangers at spring training. Which is a total shame given that it's only a couple of miles from my brother's house. Our schedules never jived though. Oh well.

All in all, it was a great trip. Fantastic memories were made and nobody got into a fist fight in the car. In fact, we all got along insanely well. 

Good trip. Good times.

Because of this...

I love me a good blog. And I stumbled on a good one today through another friend. Please go read Becky Melby's blog post that got me. Thanks for pointing her to me, Shelli Littleton! 

The prompt alone intrigued me. So before even reading the entire blog entry, I follow the prompt. And I went with the first thing that came to mind. The prompt simply said, "Because of this..."

Here's what I came up with - -

the idea for the image hit me like a ton of bricks. It's my reality. Not in a pity way. But a blessing way. And as much as junior high is KILLING me right now, I wouldn't change a thing.

Two pictures. Four words.

Because of this...

Beauty in the Scars

I was honored to speak recently at Flourish (our Mom's group at church) about friendship. I was able to share my friend testimony. It was difficult and beautiful at the same time. 

From the loss of Shannon (Yoda) a few years ago to the story of redemption and grace with Renee. In the weeks leading up to speaking, and in the weeks that have followed, I have heard God speak some truth into my life. I am so thankful that I serve a God who loves me in all of my imperfection. 

I still have many broken relationships. Some with friends, former friends, and even family. There are days when my heart physically aches over the brokenness. I fight God over it. I know better than Him. Right? Proverbs speaks a lot about relationships. 

Still consumed by the betrayal of a friend, I sought wisdom in Proverbs this morning. Wow. Such good stuff. Proverbs 2 was where I landed. It felt comforting. 

I believe that God brings us friendship for seasons in our lives. And that there are, indeed, times that come when we have those Kenny Rogers moments. "You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run."  

With Shannon, I had no choice. God chose to take her Home. My heart was broken. It's still broken. I miss her every day. So much. Our good-bye is really just a "see you later."

Renee and I were in the process of running. Both of us. Running fast. AWAY from each other. But God had a plan. In HIS plan, we found grace, mercy, forgiveness, redemption, peace and beauty. 

Know this. Walking away from a friendship does not mean you were never a good friend to begin with. Satan is a master of lies and darkness. And where there's darkness, there is no light. I am so thankful for the Light of Jesus and the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. In HIM, I have peace. Through Him, I seek wisdom. Don't listen to Satan's lies. And he seriously lies, y'all. Through half-truths as much as full on lies. Be aware!

I continue to be somewhat guarded. I bear some pretty bad scars from burns that cannot be undone. I am trying hard to let go and let God continue to heal me. To heal that which is broken. To know that it's OKAY to run from toxic relationships. It's not my job to fix anyone. I am not the Savior. 

Let me be clear - I cannot and will not burn any bridges. I will not be the one holding the matches when I walk away. I will walk with integrity and dignity. I will be respectful. I've held the matches before. And I'm not proud of that. Never again.

My passive-aggressive days are over. It's immature and ugly. I refuse to play the manipulation game. 

I'm 45 years old. It's about time I grow up. 

Given my history, through all of the ugly, I wouldn't change anything. Because in the process, the Father has shaped and molded me into the woman He wants me to be. He continues to polish and refine me. I wouldn't trade who He's made me. 

I am a Daughter of the King. 

Blessed by your friendship,

Princess B

Big Change on the Horizon...

...actually, effective immediately.

A few changes with the Mom's the Word column that runs in the San Angelo Standard Times. This won't impact the majority of you guys - - since most of you don't get a hard copy of the paper. Like me. My subscription is online only. I found that those papers just STACK UP on my coffee table. So, in the interest of hugging trees, I cancelled our home delivery. Like - - a long time ago. (You're welcome, trees.) Anyway, the big change: the column will no longer run in the printed version of the paper. I have the sads for a few of the older folk fans I've accumulated. They don't read stuff online. They like to get ink on their fingers. I get that. To each their own. The sad part is not getting to tell them good-bye. It's going to look like we got cancelled.

Which we didn't.

And that brings me to part deux. We will still be online and we will appear more often! That's right, baby. We will be in, at the minimum, every other week. Or more like weekly. But if we get the "itch" to write an extra that applies to current events or when the mood strikes, we can write then, too.

So - - in the end, it's all good. Except for my "ink in the hands fans."

It's a mom column. And honestly, the e-mail feedback I get from readers is mostly from those who are retired and they are high-fiving (because they don't fist bump yet) the heck out of me for getting on to disrespectful kids and the parents who raise them.

Please feel free to spread the word. When you see the sad, lonely, visibly shaken retired teacher who is riddled with grief wondering where the "moms" are, please direct them to the Standard-Times (Go San Angelo) website. I'd be most appreciative.

Seriously though - - I adore the heck out of those ladies. They were so reassuring. And validating.

Rest assured, Mom's the Word is not going away - - just embracing change.

Celebrity Deaths

I don't get particularly wrapped up in the lives of celebrities. So when personal news comes out about them, I don't feel invested enough to let the news consume me. I don't know them. They aren't my friends. Good actor? Maybe. Good artist? Probably. But in the grand scheme of things, it does not phase me. Any premature death is a sad thing. I could get on a soapbox about the insane numbers of babies killed every day and how we should be grieving for them or for who THEY might have been had they been given a chance to just BE. But I rarely cry over celebrities when they die. I might be a little sad. But I don't cry. They're people, y'all. People. 

Last year, I was sad for my former neighbor who lost her husband to cancer. Our family knows them. We interacted with them. I cried for her loss. I'm sad for our friend, who in the past 14 months who has lost both of her parents AND her husband. They are our friends. I cried for them. A lot. I was consumed with grief when another friend lost her youngest son in a tragic accident. There are still days I cry about that one. It is too close to home for me. Parents should never have to grieve the loss of their children. It's out of order. My sweet old girl, Ally the Cat, died last summer. I cried a lot of tears over her. 

Did the world know any of these or care? Some might have. But my world did. They were part of my world. Celebrities in the life of B. They are the ones worthy of my grief and tears. 

So, no, I haven't been listening to David Bowie's music non-stop since his passing. I don't believe I own any. I never saw or read any of the Harry Potter books. So no need to binge watch or read those for nostalgia purposes. I'm sure Alan Rickman was great in those. I know he was an awesome Hans Gruber and Sheriff of Nottingham. I don't feel led to pull those movies out and watch them.  I'm sure their talents will be missed by many. That's fine. To each their own. 

For me? I miss seeing Dave and his monster mug he got filled up at the convenience store every day. I miss him talking to my kids over the fence while they jumped on the trampoline. I miss Joe popping in to see David. I know David still misses one of the best adult friends he's ever had. My heart breaks at the mere thought of JoNell and how she'd give anything to have Alex back. I think about Alex's big goofy grin. I think about my sweet fur baby curled up on my legs seeking warmth for her old, tired body. 

I won't even go there with Shannon. Lord knows I miss her everyday.  Or our special friend Joe Stegall. Or Traci's daddy. 

If these celebrity deaths have impacted you that much, I can't judge you. You grieve however you need to. There's no shame in that. 

Death is a part of life. It happens. And it's hardest on those of us left behind. 

Grief sucks. But the hope I have in Christ sustains me...

Dinner With Friends

It is not often that the Brays dine with friends. I'd venture to say that we almost never do this. We have invited several exchange students over to our home to eat. But rarely do we sit down with another family at meal time.

Tonight was an exception. Some very good friends of ours lost their mother/grandmother over the weekend. It's been a very rough year and the third significant loss for them. Our hearts have been broken, we've cried heavy tears and prayed fervently for God to carry this sweet family through one more trial.

Because I'm a Southerner, one of my first thoughts go to food. We have to take them dinner. So I texted my sweet friend who took on the task of assigning meals to this family and requested that we be put on this list for tonight.

When we spoke on the phone earlier today to discuss other funeral/obituary type stuff, they insisted that we join them for dinner. It wasn't just a polite invite. It was a "from the heart" invite that we simply could not turn down. I accepted the invitation on behalf of my family.

I am SO glad we did. It was a fun time of laughter and smiles. Our boys were, for the most part, on pretty good behavior. They did "boy" things that made our friends giggle. It was so refreshing to see the smiles on their faces and to hear them laugh.

Death is hard, y'all. Not because of no hope. There have been some beautiful reunions in Heaven. And we know that these earthly losses are merely "see you laters." It's just hard on the hearts left behind. We long for one more conversation, one more smile, one more hug, one more...

Please be in prayer for our friends. They're pretty special to us.

Tonight was a good reminder. We need to slow down and have dinner with friends more often. Even on school nights. Life is too short to neglect our friends.

Tonight - - my heart is full.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

I'm not particularly sorry to see 2015 go. It was a challenging year for my extended family. It's like the devil took particular interest in attacking us. Hard. Strained relationships that still need mending. I can assure you that family is way up there on the prayer list.

I'm not big on resolutions. I do, however, like the idea of fresh starts. I like the newness of things. And something about moving the calendar ahead a year always seems like a good time to bring on the change. Cliche? Sure. But it works for me.

I have lofty goals. A lot of them revolve around my prayer life and time with Jesus. I don't want to go into that too much. But know that I'm far from perfect. But I'm going to do my dead level best to chase after the heart of Jesus. With all of my heart.

I desperately need to attack my planner. I'm absolutely LOVING using The Happy Planner. I still use Google calendar. But there's something about a physical planner (that I can be creative with) that makes my inner nerd VERY happy.

On a more "worldly" note. We moved into this house in July of 2014. We had no idea how much work the house needed. It's been a loooooooong year and a half. But I'm happy to report that the hard stuff is nearly done. The kitchen is tiled and cabinets are painted. The master bathroom has been tiled and the shower has been re-built. The cabinets in there have been painted as well. The tiling needs to be done around the tub. But hey, the tub still works. So I'm okay with that. It can wait. But knowing Mr. B, it won't wait long. We also have to order a shower door. Then the decorating can begin. A blank canvas. What to do? Hmmmmmm. I've been all over Pinterest.

Mr. B started installing new wood floor in his office space, the living room and our bedroom. I'm loving the dark wood. And it's great to not be on concrete floors anymore. I'm ready for this project to be done so that I can give the floors a good cleaning. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Possibly by tomorrow night. Then baseboards in the WHOLE house.

Oh - - and a new fireplace. There is a hole in the wall where the old one was. We're going all gas and have one picked out. Just add it to the eleventy billion dollars we've spent to far. No big deal. Eeeeeek! All that lacks is ordering, paying for it and having it installed.

At this juncture, I want to stay in this house forever. Never again do I want to live in the midst of a remodel. It's very trying on an already healthy marriage. Mr. B is a machine though. And once we decided on tile and wood, he has worked like a beast to get it done. And get it done right.

When this is all done - - it's going to be gorgeous. I'm very happy.

Loaded baked potato soup is in the crockpot. It's very cold outside (for West Texas) and warm comfort food sounded perfect for this New Year's Day. Tonight it's leftover snack from last night.

I'm working hard on blogging again. Add it to my list of "do-overs." Haha!

Time to hop up and get back to work around here.

Have a blessed 2016. I hope it's awesome for all of you.

<3 p="">B

Cranberry Limeade Haiku

Here's what happened. A year ago, some lamebrain at Sonic corporate decided that the San Angelo stores should be a test market for removing the cranberry flavor. Personally, I'd like that knucklehead's head made of knuckle on a freaking platter.

Worst freaking year of my life. I kid you not.

And misery loves company. So anytime we ever were on the road, I begged Mr. B to stop and let me get a fix. My friends were bringing me drinks in from out of town. It was like a crazy cranberry bootlegging scheme.

I called and complained.

I asked EVERY time I went there to get slushes for the ankle biters. "When is cranberry coming back?" I'd whine into the speaker.

It was pathetic.

Then, in early December - - it was if the clouds opened up and the cranberry flowed from Heaven. Straight to San Angelo.

Behold: the deliciousness - -

The drought lasted an entire year. It sucked, y'all. It really sucked. But I'm drinking one right now. Yes, it's 11:30 at night and I should, oh, I don't know, BE ASLEEP, and stuff. But I felt the call to be all artsy and stuff. So without further ado, I present you with some cranberry haiku.

You're welcome.

It's an addiction
Diet Cranberry Limeade
Sonic happy hour.

*takes a bow*

I'll bet they've noticed that their profits are up already. Why don't they just listen to me? I am an expert.

My Three Fears

Because I get a little neurotic about these three fears phobias of mine, I feel like I ought to explain myself. Just a little insight into my sick, twisted mind and a fair warning as to why none of the three listed are joking matters to me. At all. They are off limits. If you ever violate one of these, intentionally, our freaking friendship is over. You feeling me? I'm serious.

This is long. You may need to break up the reading of these fears into sections. (Which I've conveniently divided up for you. I'm kind like that.) I want you to be able to digest the severity of each one.

Snakes

My absolute greatest fear, unequivocally, is snakes. I don't care to hear how awesome your pet snake is. I don't want to see pictures of it. I don't want to hear about how they eat pesky rodents. I don't care that they are an important part of the food chain. Understand this and understand it well. I hate all snakes. All of them. Don't even give me the "Awwwwww, Bex, come on. A little cute, garden snake?" Negative. No. I hate them. They are evil and know this - - I WILL kill, by any means necessary, any snake that crosses my path. That is, of course, unless I have keeled over from a heart attack having just had an encounter with said snake. In which case, someone please kill the snake for me. Kick his ass good, too. Because you love loved me.

Y'all, the struggle IS real. I can barely even look at pictures of them. There's a particular scene in Lonesome Dove that KILLS me. I won't watch that one part. And because of it, I don't ever get in lake or river water. Ever. Water moccasins are particularly evil because those little bastards can swim. My feelings go way beyond fear. Fear is rational and healthy. I have a legit phobia.

Now imagine the horror I felt when my Mom, the woman who birthed me 44 years ago posted a picture on Facebook of a snake my dad caught IN THEIR FREAKING HOUSE. I kid you not. There's since been a little debate about the size of said snake. Mom insists that because she cropped the picture, the snake looks larger than it actually was. She says it was only about four inches long. Against all good judgement, I'm going to post a picture and let you decide. How long is this snake? And what kind is it? If it's a garden snake - - then crap. Those dudes are too dang big for me, too.

I know. Four inches my badongadonk. Right?

Regardless - - it was in her home. A place I used to visit. I felt safe there. It was a good run. I hate to see it come to an end like that. She told my dad that she hesitated posting a picture on Facebook for fear that I'd never come over again. You should have listened to that little voice there, Ma. Those grandchildren you adore - - yeah. Good luck with that. I will need convincing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was an isolated incident and that there isn't a nest or even nests of snake babies somewhere else in your house. And a word of caution to my husband. If this nonsense EVER happens in our home, I will drive myself straight to the nearest hotel and pay whatever rate necessary for a minimum of one week. Luckily he knows I mean business and he never jacks with me on this issue. I love him.

Tornados

My second fear is tornadoes, crazy wind and large hail. Or West Texas in the spring - - we call them  thunderstorms. This time of year, I watch the weather app on my phone like a dang crazy woman. And if the sky turns black and the city warning sirens sound - - there will be tears. Lots of them.

Look - - we live in a very dry, drought-filled part of Texas. We need the rain. I get that. I love the rain. I love thunder. I do not like black skies. I've been through a tornado. I was alone in my apartment back when Mr. B and I were dating. He'd gone home for the weekend and my parents had left town, too. I curled up in my closet and cried my fool head off. Several business in town were destroyed and there was significant damage to trees, cars, windows, etc. It was awful.

So please. Stop trying to be cute when the radar looks like a freaking blood bath. Don't say stupid stuff like, "Oh yeah! Bring on the storm." Because when you do - - you will achieve idiot status in my book. You don't want to be on my idiot list.You have obviously never felt the fear of being sucked up into a tornado. And by the way, those hail stones can do a lot of damage to your house, car and your person. So shut up about how "cool" severe weather is.

Once again, I place some of the blame on my mom as well. When I was 13, my dad was out of town on business. I vividly remember standing by the sliding glass door watching the wind do horrific things to the trees. The sky was black. She looked me square in the eyes and said, "You know, we'll probably have a tornado." What the heck, Mom? How about one of those cute little white lies moms tell? Humor me. No, she chose scarring me for life instead.

It wasn't long after that when she ran over my beloved cat. He was deaf. Yeah. It was an accident. But still traumatic. She apologized for running over my cat. But never for the storm remark.

Vomit

I fear puke. So much that I made a deal with my husband when we had our children. I would handle all poop related stuff if he'd handle the puke. We may or may not have even shook hands on the deal. I know he attempted to change a few nasty diapers. He even puked once. How's that for irony? So, we sealed the deal and we have a standing agreement.

I can't handle the sound of it, the site of it and certainly not the smell of it. It's just nasty. If a rumor of the stomach bug starts going around I embrace my inner germaphobe. When my kids puke, I try to dismiss it as a fluke or something. Then I disinfect the snot out of everything. I wash my hands constantly. The last time I refunded? I'm glad you asked. September of 1999. (Stupid antibiotic on an empty stomach.) Yep, I have quite a streak going. Before that, it was in a K-Mart when I was in Kindergarten (1976ish.) No joke. I don't puke. I fight it. There have been a few times where I was certain it was about to happen. I've been nauseated plenty of times. As someone who is prone to migraines, it's the nature of the beast. I'm sure I'd feel better if I'd let my self urp. But alas, I fear it too much.

If I'm sure I won't catch it, I'm not as deeply affected. For example, my youngest gets car sick. He used to get altitude sickness, too. There was one trip driving home from my parents' cabin in the mountains where he refunded the whole way home. My brother really took one for the team (he's afraid of the pukes, too) and he drove my van while I held the bowl in the backseat. At one point, I was noshing on a hamburger with one hand and holding the bowl with the other. He pretty much admitted I was a bad ass that day. I knew I wouldn't catch it. Mind over matter. And I was hungry.

There you have it. I realize that I just made myself vulnerable to my legions of fans. I trust I'm in good hands with you.

If you're still with me, after all of this weirdness, I officially bow to your awesomeness.

And Mom - - I love you. For real. Even though you ran over Pee Wee and convinced me I would die a horrific death in a violent tornado. So please make sure all of the snakes are gone when you have my kids next weekend.

Chiropractors - - yay or nay?

I hurt my back in college. It's a stupid story. Something I have regretted ever since the moment it happened. I went to kick my brother (shame on me) and he grabbed my foot and shoved me backwards. I landed right on my tailbone. No bracing. Just a hard fall with direct impact. I didn't see the doctor for a long time. Mostly because I was younger and could tolerate stuff like that. I was injured, but the pain went away rather quickly.

I went to the doctor for it about ten or so years ago. An MRI confirmed a herniated disc. The neuro wanted to do back surgery. I was like, "Uh, no. Let's live with the pain."

Twice now, it has become unbearable. Long bouts of sitting really screw me up. Recently we traveled just over 2000 miles in the car for Spring Break.

I am a mess. I can't sit for any period of time. Which doesn't work for me. At all.


A friend recommended a chiropractor. I've always joked that they were "kooks" and not even real doctors. But I'm desperate. I don't want to spend my time down at the hospital. I don't want to go for back injections that last maybe a week. I want some dang relief. So - - I'm seeing a chiropractor today. I'm a little nervous. I'll let you know how it goes. Eeeeeeeeeeeek!

But I Finished It In Class...

A friend posted this link to Jen Hatmaker's blog post on my Facebook wall today and I got a total chuckle out of it. You must go read it.

So - - you can imagine how happy I was when I picked the ankle-biters from their holding facility today and the oldest said, "Good news Mom! No homework!" I was elated.

Then reality sunk in. I thought to myself, "You know. That doesn't make sense. He always has class work. They were doing Stanford Achievement tests for three days last week. There's no way they did nothing in class today." Why that thought process didn't hit me earlier is beyond me. Perhaps I wanted to live in the "no homework" fantasy world a little while longer.

So I checked the teacher's website.

*face palm*

Here's the thing. No homework doesn't necessarily mean no homework. And here's why. He will rush through classwork and turn it in so that he doesn't have homework. I understand wanting to get classwork done so that you don't have homework. I totally get that. But it doesn't work for him.

And here's a hint, kid. If it says "possible quiz" there WILL be a quiz. It's not a suggestion. She's not toying with your emotions. She's subtly telling you that you better be prepared.

It just proves that I can't take my foot off the gas with this kid. Not for one second. I'm tired of nagging. But apparently I will get to retain my title of "Nagatha Christie, Secretary of Nagrigculture" until the very last day of school.

Here's what worked for us before. And we're going back to it. Sunday through Thursday he is "unplugged." No electronic devices. He's in such a hurry to get to them. So we take them out of the equation. Boom.

I'm irritated. I place the blame entirely on the kid. NOT the teachers.

I feel like we're coming in for a hard landing. And I'm on fumes at this point. I'm all out of fuel.

Let's land this bad boy and finish strong. Or - - just finish.