Grandpa Henry

Some of my first memories are of hay bales, coffee cups clinking on a glass kitchen table, the bed of an old truck that babysat us while the tractors went around the field and steering the pickup in the morning while my grandpa kicked hay out the back for the cows.

My grandpa took me  ice “skating” on the old pond, helped me dig a 100 year old turtle out of the mud, took me swimming in the creek after a hot day in the field and I spent afternoons on the back porch with my cousins drinking pop and eating Little Debbie’s while my grandparents drank coffee. 

I snuck in the old bed across the hall every morning, was asked if I needed an allowance when I’d come through the door and I cried if my parents didn’t turn off the highway to their house. 

My grandma is my best friend. She has been since birth I think. I was always “theirs” probably because when your baby has a baby at 17, you help raise her daughter as you finish raising her. My grandma helped raise me. When the first few years of life were so unstable, my grandparents were our calm in the storm. 

My best friend lost her sweetheart yesterday. Even though her heart prayed, believed and begged for the opposite, my Grandma’s sun browned, gravelly voiced, hard of hearing sweetheart was finally able to let go and find a place to rest. My whole heart is broken over the loss of a man who helped fill the role of Dad for me, but my heart is shattered over my grandma’s loss of her “honey.” My brain can’t quite comprehend that he won’t yell HELLO!? in the phone when I call on my way to work every morning, he won’t be sitting in his chair waiting to scoop up McCoy and put him on the kitchen table but the thing that hurts the most this morning is thinking about my Grandma drinking coffee and her glass being the only one to clink on the kitchen table. 

She’s called me on the morning of my birthday to sing to me for 36 years but if she didn’t do it this morning I wouldn’t blame her. My heart had hoped he wouldn’t die today and it got its wish, but instead my precious Mama and my Grandma have to plan his funeral. No...today’s not really a “Happy Birthday” kind of day. 

He was tired. His old body was worn out. He worked hard, he loved his grandbabies and especially his Sweetie, my grandma. But he was tired. It was his time, his way but he leaves a Grandpa shaped hole in our hearts. We are thankful his struggle is over, but now we pray for my Mama, her brothers and my Grandma as we go through the next few days and learn to live without him. 

Rest Grandpa. Find you a cup of coffee and a field that needs to be baled. Get you a four wheeler and take a ride around your new home. Hopefully you can find the baby boy who was named after you and take him for a ride this morning. 

Papa Doug

Yesterday was one of those days you never want to experience. The kind with phone calls that leave you with mascara stains on your shirt and quick coverup explanations for your five year old. Friday, January 12 we lost our Papa Doug to a heart attack. It’s amazing how the world can change, fall off its path in the course of 24 hours.
I’ve only know Papa Doug for about seven years. But over the course of those seven years, Mike’s grandparents went from being Doug and Susan, to Papa Doug and Susu. Papa Doug was one of those people who would do anything for anybody. Acts of service must have been his love language. I’ve watched three generations fix a fence in the backyard on a blistering July morning. I’ve listened for the gunshot from Papa Doug’s gun when McCoy and I unexpectedly ran onto a snake after just moving into the new house. When our electricity went out one especially brutal July day, Doug and Susan went to a hotel and sent the generator that was running their house over to ours so our newborn son could have a fan. They have babysat our children from eight weeks old, first driving in from Wagoner two days a week until they later moved about five minutes from us. They’ve taken my Parker to preschool, picked her up and have even driven her to my school so she could do running club with me or be nursed if I had to work late.
Of all the kind things Papa Doug did, the one that topped them all was how he treated my babies. He wasn’t just their great grandpa, he was...he is...their best friend. He has napped with my son and played in the rain with my daughter. He taught them about water balloons, took them on walks to investigate the neighborhood, been the patient while Parks doctored him and McCoy spoon fed him jello. He’s had pillow fights and played in the office until Parker thinks that room belongs to her just as much as it does him. He fostered their love of ice cream, played basketball in the driveway and filled up the baby pool in the shade on a hot day so two little kids could play. He walked our land with Parker planting seeds and tying pink ribbons to mark where they were planted. He held McCoy as he went around the garage touching all the tools, getting things off shelves and really just seeing what kind of trouble they could get into. Those two and their orneriness made Susu and Parker roll their eyes. He and Susu gave up two days for the past five years and he shared his life with my babies. He loved them and they knew that without a doubt.
People say sometimes a person gets a 6th sense about upcoming life events. I don’t know if that’s true but I do know he did everything in his power every day to take care of Susu or Susie as he called her. He loved her in a way that once again left me confident he took joy in serving those he loved. They were inseparable and my heart breaks for her this cold January morning. I think he’s thinking about her though. As I’ve been typing this I glanced up and out the small window in our bathroom, I could see the most beautiful pink, red and purple sunrise. I’ve never noticed it before and even after I got up to take a picture and continue typing, it’s disappeared already. I think he sent it for his sweetheart. An early Valentine maybe.
He’s with Jesus this morning. He taught my ever inquisitive daughter about the Bible and I heard them especially focused on Bible stories and angels over the past few weeks. She knew her Papa Doug loved Jesus. Just like every other part of his life, he shared his heart with her.
The world...the family I’m ever so protective of is heartbroken this morning over the loss of a great man. They just don’t make them like Papa Doug very often.
I hope the time he had with my babies has left a mark on them that causes them to love their family in a way that reflects how he served his.

Another year

This birthday. Thirty five. Jeez...it snuck up on me. This birthday looked like an early morning donut trip with my girl, a later than normal morning with my babies, LOTS of rain, an updated address and pic on my driver's license (I sure as HECK didn't update my weight?!), and an afternoon spent with my phone call receiving...text message sending hubby. I'm not complaining. We spent six hours together. 

Antiquing and shopping. 

Bless. His. Heart. 

Tonight I sat and just talked and ate and drank with some of my most favorite people. You guys. This day couldn't have been better. 

In the midst of today and this week, my brain has been running. How am I going to make the most of this trip around this sun? What is my heart longing for? What part of my soul is being ignored? What about my life am I pleased with?? What do I want to make better? 

I know people make bucket lists...and jeez, I don't know...maybe that's what this is...all I know is, I'm gonna start off my 35th year with these things in my line of sight. 

1. Positive. I want to be positive. I'm about to hyperventilate just speaking that into space because that adds a crapload of responsibility and accountability. I read an article. (Surprised?!) It made me realize what my growling frustration is doing to ME and more importantly to my most precious babies. I'm going to make purposeful changes to be positive. Don't worry, I've set positive alarms on my phone. Sh't's gettin' real.😳

2. Take a vacation with my husband. Bless his heart, these babies sleep in our bed. These babies consume our lives & while we love them more than chips and salsa, our marriage needs some space. Whether it's one night or five, I want to take a vacation with my handsome husband. 

3. Be brave. That sounds so arbitrary but it's time ya'll. This is ridiculous. I'm a chicken in so many areas of my life & because of that, I'm negative (#1 item to change on my list) so it's time. Whether it's a professional step or a personal one, it's time to be brave. It's time to get the heck out of this safe little lane I've been riding in and venture out there and make some waves. 

4. Me. Work on me. Build my character. Develop who the heck it is I was put on this Earth to be. My NY resolution was to be someone my Parker could look up to. That's my life's ambition. I want my babies to be proud I'm their Mama.

This time last year I was on the last stretch of being pregnant with McCoy boy. Since then we put a new roof and a new floor in our house, had McCoy, listed our home, I went back to work, we've sold our house and we've moved into our forever home. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. The past year has been about stuff. About moves and changes. This year...this year is about growth and foundation. Letting my heart and being grow to what God intended and laying a solid foundation for my marriage and my kids. 

Pray for me you guys. Send me positive messages. My being turns sour pretty easy but my heart WANTS to grow. Sarcasm is my lifeline though. What can I say? I walk a narrow line. 

35...I'm about to the downhill slide to that number that starts with an F. 😖

When I think of that word, a few other words that start with F come to mind...& then I'm right back to that reminder to be POSITIVE. 

It's a process. Ya'll pray for me. I'm obviously gonna need it. 

Joy

Parker knows today is our baby angel's birthday. She asked me if we could put two candles on his birthday cake and if she and "Tot-baby" could blow the candles out. Yes was all I could say out loud. In my head...my heart...that yes was spoken a thousand times over. 

Yes to every day, every moment with my babies. Yes to every late night, early morning, every argument, every birthday candle, each hectic moment, all the happiest days & even a quiet yes to those that sting. Yes to the very idea that I get to spend those moments with the two Littles that God not only gave me, but let me keep. 

Even though we don't really bring him up a lot, our Angel Baby has been on my precious Parker's mind lately. While driving in the car one day I overheard her sweet voice tell her brother, "God took our other baby to heaven. He went to celebrate Jesus' birthday. Mommy really has three kids. You, me and Hayes Andrew. " I had to rearrange the rearview mirror so she couldn't see my eyes when she looked up at me. She has the purest of hearts. She thinks deeper than most adults I know and while my knee jerk reaction is to shelter her from all the painful things, with a mind and heart like hers, it just won't work. She needs to think and talk and feel. I think she waits to see how the adults she loves and trusts handles the hard things. 

My girl is the one who got me through the worst loss I've ever felt. She gave me hope and a reason to keep smiling, keep breathing and keep showing her how to live. The baby boy who has blessed our lives since losing Hayes Andrew is nothing short of an answered prayer. Parker and I say God gave him to us because He knew we had love saved up in our hearts that we needed to share. There have been few days in our sweet MAC boy's life where I haven't looked into those eyes that are so similar to his sister's and remind him that he is my Blessing. He is our miracle and he has healed so many cracks in my little family's hearts. He completes us. 

Our Angel Baby's 2nd heavenly birthday feels different than the first. At this time last year we were still trying to recover but this year is a different shade of remembering. This year our birthday celebration, our day to remember our 2nd born comes at the end of a year filled not with sadness, but with joy. We've done a lot of growing this year. A lot of healing.

This morning instead of letting my head (and my heart) relive the worst morning, I'm going to focus on joy.

Joy of listening to my McCoy boy "ooh" and "coo" on the pillow next to me. 

The sweet joy of hearing the patter of Parker baby's feet as she whispers around looking for her elf's new morning hiding place. 

The joy of a friend who walks the hallway to deliver a hug, a sweet handwritten note and the most beautiful wooden angel wings. 

And the understanding of a coworker who simply whispers, "whatever you need" when asked if she can cover my kids for a few minutes today so I can get a start on my drive to Tahlequah. 

And the thousands of other reasons I have each day to smile, hug the people God has let me keep and tuck the ones in heaven deeper in my heart. 

Last year's sprinkles of joy have multiplied. 

This Guy

This guy.

We have our rough moments & Lord knows I get frustrated, but I have to say I've been pretty proud of him this weekend. For his birthday, he decided it would make for a good memory to take the kids to a Cardinals game.

The icing on the cake was his parents and grandparents also being able to go.

Even though it would've been easy to go on in, he missed the first inning or two of the game yesterday because the kids and I couldn't check in to our room yet and he didn't want to leave us (he went to two games, the kids and I just went to the one on Sunday). As I'm sure with most parents, we've come to learn movement is slow when both kids are in tow.

You can either take it in stride or spend precious time aggravated and frustrated instead of enjoying the moment.

While he could've been impatient with us at lunch today (McCoy was sleepy and Parker is THREE), he ate lunch with us in a very busy restaurant, waited in line and then walked us into the ballpark happily.

It was our first time to ever be there so to walk with him and see a place that holds so many memories for him was something.

To top it off, he wrestled McCoy almost as much as I did during the game (every Mama knows how much that makes ya love your husband😍😘). 

Michael Curtsinger-while I don't always acknowledge it, there are moments where I'm so proud of the dad and husband you are. This weekend was one of those moments. Thank you for recognizing that this weekend was about family; about introducing our little family to something you love so much and making a memory that won't be forgotten.

After watching the game with you today (& hearing the crowd chant their love for Holliday), I can say I'm a fan.

I love you babe. Here's to a great 30th year.

Grace

The day has finally come. I'm leaving my precious babies five days a week and heading back to the classroom. I've only had one meltdown so far...but it's 5:30am. The day is young. :-)

It's going to be a good day. The sweet kids in my classroom have waited 27 days to have their teacher show up for them. That's me. I'm their teacher. Who knows how many times those babies have waited for someone to show up and that day never came. However sad I may be on the inside, I'm going to show up. I'm going to high five them, hug them, guide them and maybe even teach them something. I'd want someone to do that for my kiddos. 

I needed last year. I lovingly referred to it as my "mental health year." People (teachers) take mental health days, well after we lost the baby, I needed a little more than a year. I got it. I don't know if it was enough, but It'll have to be for now. I may not be perfectly healed, but by the grace of God, the birth of McCoy Andrew  and all those who love me, I've healed perfectly. Every time I look into the perfectly matching eyes of my two kiddos I know that. 

The name of the game this week is GRACE. Grace for myself because I'm leaving my baby boy (who so sweetly only allowed me about 4 1/2hrs sleep) and because there are abundantly too many emails in my inbox at school that after 10 years of teaching, don't make any sense to me. Should make for an interesting first day.

Grace. 

I'm going to show up though. I'm going to walk through that door and care and remember; just as I had to leave my home and my most precious people this morning, each one of those little people left their home and their people too. 

It's a great day to create a great day...even if there are a few tears involved and it stands on the backbone of a whole lot of coffee.  

It Takes Confidence

Have you ever been crazy protective of something? Like when you're a teenager and you get some awesome pair of shoes/jeans/sunglasses and there's no way you're going to let your younger brother/sister/cousin borrow them. You aren't trying to be mean. You're not! You have just really wanted the shoes/jeans/sunglasses for so long, you aren't willing to trust anyone else with them. 

Or maybe a new relationship. You aren't really sure what it is yet, it may be SOMETHING...or it may not work out...but either way you keep it close to home and sure as hell don't drag him/her to Sunday supper to meet your embarrassing storytelling aunt or dirty joke sharing uncle. Not until you're sure. Sure it'll last. It'll stick. It's the real deal. Not something you're going to shout from the rooftops and then have to take back a week later. 

I know some people are an open book. They have the confidence to share -what seems like- everything. Confidence. Sharing your life, letting people in, takes confidence. That kind of confidence is one of my weakest areas. Especially if I've been hurt by sharing too much, too soon before. 

All of this is to say, when we found out we are pregnant again after losing our precious boy, after gut wrenching sorrow, after another, almost year of trying, we didn't shout it from the rooftops. Actually when I first found out, I sat down in my closet floor, hugged my legs close and prayed to God above to be present. To help. To protect this baby and my heart in a way only He could. Right or wrong, we didn't tell anyone. We went to the doctor before we told our Moms. We had full ultrasounds before we told grandmas. We were over 12 weeks before we shared the news with Parker. We just couldn't "take it back" again. We couldn't share our greatest joy while we were holding it with the most fragile of hands, fully prepared to be shattered at any moment. 

Of course baby #3, by 14 weeks was more than showing, so the people in our every day lives had to know. Still, there was no proclamation. It was whispered. If we said it too loud it might disappear. 

As the weeks have gone on, we've become a little more comfortable. Every two weeks our doctor confirms the heartbeat. Every two weeks I hold my breath until we hear the hoof beats. At 18ish weeks kicking/physical movement finally started.  We had gender ultrasounds and still everything's ok. It's better than ok, it's been less of a roller coaster than Parker was. 

This weekend I went home and ran a race with my daughter and numerous friends and family members. This weekend, I decided it was time to stop keeping the miracle in my stomach a secret and not delete a comment about my belly or a picture that's of more than my head from facebook. I just decided (along with Mike) that it's time. It's time to take a deep breath and stand in the hope and the uncertainty that IS growing another human being. To not shy away from seeing someone on the street because they might see my belly. 

We are pregnant. Seven months, 28 weeks pregnant. Good Lord willing we will know the joy of having a baby boy on the ground in July. Parker could not be more excited. We could not be more fearfully hopeful. 

Pray for us. Remember us. And bless your heart, if your toes are currently feeling stepped on because we haven't shared the news with you sooner, try to put yourself in our shoes and understand that us protecting the presence of this baby boy was about self preservation and love...and fear. Not about anyone else. 

He's coming though. In T-minus 12 weeks, we'll have a baby brother to love. Some days are easier to believe it than others, but the kicks and tumbles along with the belly kisses from my sweet girl  help reaffirm the joy and hope that God has put back in our lives.