Suburban Goddess

Despite the bravado of strength I like to put forward, I suddenly feel pretty vulnerable.  In fact, the feeling is so overwhelming that I really just want to throw up right now.

In my quest to become a better Christian, I’ve often found myself evaluating the people around me who call themselves Christian. I wouldn’t call it “judging,” because no one is perfect. I’m just looking to surround myself with people who share my morals and values, since that’s something I’ve neglected for so long.

The first person who springs to mind immediately is M. She is, in my opinion, the perfect Christian. She states her faith without fail, and sticks to her principles. I’ve never seen her judge anyone, and I’ve never heard her speak negatively about anyone. (That alone, in my book, should get you into Heaven!) But she lives her life with, for lack of better terms, grace. She is graceful with her love and is graceful in her mistakes. She takes responsibility for her actions and the choices that she makes, and never passes blame.

I’ve met my fair share of hypocritical Christians; it’s part of the reason I stayed out of church for so long. At one point, M & I talked about it, and she told me that it was sad that those kind of people gave faith such a bad name. (Insert Bon Jovi riff HERE). So it was partially at her request that I gave faith another try… and set foot into church, half expecting to be hit by lightning on the spot… but I went anyway.

She restored my faith in faith… that there are those out there who live the principles…
Even in hard times, her faith is unwavering. It’s amazing to watch, and very inspiring.

It makes me realize I have a long way to go.

But that is what’s so great about her; she looks past the mistakes and inspires me to move forward, to never give up, and to continue to do the right thing. She’s God’s cheerleader, always pushing me to just BE BETTER. Hard times are part of life; don’t give up. Don’t cave in to the low road; look where it got you. Look where you are now. Look where you’re going!

Thank you, M. You’re an angel!

My best friend’s new home is absolutely beautiful; it’s the classic New England style that dollhouses are patterned after. The only thing that’s different in New England is that for some reason, the steps always seem shorter than they are in the South.

I guess Southerners just have big feet.

Anyway, we were getting all the girls dressed up for pictures when I heard the sickening “thud-thud-thud” of someone falling down the stairs. I immediately jumped up and ran just in time to catch Alex’s first wail.

As a mom, your heart stops when you hear your child cry out in pain. My baby sat in the middle of the stairs, a pile of white cotton and black tulle, and her hair was covering her face. I swept her up in my arms quickly and began the check; head, shoulders, torso, knees, and toes…. nothing poking out where it shouldn’t be… check…. but when I swept her hair back from her face, I could see her left eye starting to swell.

A few moments later, a packet of frozen peas, many kisses and hugs and soft spoken words, and she was fine. But it’s moments like this when you are aware there are so many perils in the world…

So many stairs.

Alex & I are headed to Cape Cod for the weekend… and I have to tell you, I’m dreading the plane ride.

It’s the baggage. I’ve never traveled light; it’s just not in my nature. I have to be prepared for any social situation. Then you add the toddler clothes, (which in theory should be smaller, therefore taking up less room, but the insane amounts of applique, ribbon, and glitter add considerable bulk) and the toddler TOYS (“Mommy, I NEED it!” while you pull the six Elmos and four Doras out of the suitcase). But then you have the weather factor; we’re going to CAPE COD in FEBRUARY.

Those of you who know me well can hear me whining already. Anything below 50 degrees is all the same to me; TOO DAMN COLD.

So add the turtlenecks, flannel, sweaters, and long johns to the mix. Oh yeah, and the boots.

Then the electronic paraphenalia (because I can’t go anywhere without the Blackberry, the iPod, the laptop and all the various accessories. You never know when a design dilemna will arise.). And of course, the camera equipment (too much too list)…. so immediately my back begins to ache before we ever even get started.

But the true pain begins as soon as I attempt to drag all this stuff to the Jeep, where my precious 30-pound sack oof potatoes looks up at me with the cutest smile and her arms stretched up towards me:

“Mommy, I want to HOLD YOU.”

“I don’t think politicians and elected officials and bureaucrats and even the media are responsible for the greatness of the country. I think it’s individual Americans laboring in anonymity, not seeking fame, just trying to get by, play by the rules, work hard, ordinary people doing extraordinary things.”

You might be surprised.

I’m knee-deep in what I would tentatively call a “relationship,” and I am (scared to say for great fear of jinxing the situation) happy. This person is everything all the others were not. Razor-sharp wit, deep intelligence, a sincere interest in who I am (not to mention damn sexy)… and yet, there is just one tiny problem.

However, this one tiny problem is actually HUGE. It will, in time, resolve itself if I can remain patient… however, in the meantime it’s like trying to ignore an elephant in the room. He & I go about our daily routines as if it’s not there. And to be honest, when I’m with him, I DO forget it’s there. But every now and then, something or someone will bring attention to it.

“Hey? Are you crazy? Don’t you see that big, F-ing elephant????”

(sigh) Yes, I know.

Alex & I are set to march in the March of Dimes walk again this year. I want to give a very special thank you to everyone who has donated to us so far; I always feel weird asking for donations, so when I do I’m always surprised at how willing people are to give back.

I’m determined to get Alex on tape this year talking about “Saving Babies.” It’s so cute it makes you want to eat marshmallows and sugar until you barf.

Yes, I know the badge hangs out past my margin. Yes, it drives me stark raving insane and the OCD makes me start twitching, but it’s for a good cause, dammit.

had the urge to sail over a table and strangle your co-worker?

I haven’t laughed this hard in quite a while.

“Alex, go to your room.”

“No!”

“No back-talking!”

“NO, I NOT BACK TALKING!”

I find the past week has slipped by without realizing how quickly it was gone… while my calendar isn’t exactly FULL, I’ve somehow managed to stay busy every waking hour of the past few days.

On Saturday, OMC volunteered our services at a benefit for the family of a motorcycle accident victim. The man left behind two small children, one who hasn’t even made it to a year yet. When I heard the story, it touched me in a way that I was moved to help. Nestled in the small rural community of New Caney, everyone I spoke to about the benefit would look at me a bit of condescension… why waste my time?

Because there are two tiny children who will never know their father. Because I struggle as a single mother with ONE child and a great job; I can’t imagine the struggle ahead for the young mother of two. Because people who live in the country and don’t make a lot of money aren’t necessarily BAD people. And because I remember how amazing growing up in a small country community can be…. and being amongst all those “rednecks” reminded me so much of home.

As I photographed the sunburned, weathered faces of these interesting people, I remembered so many things I hadn’t thought of in years. Playing on the river, marathon poker nights at my best friend’s house, crawfish boils at my grandmother’s house… all the things that make “growing up country” so incredibly special.