There is a scripture that tells us to be prepared to give a reason for the hope that is in us. I'm pretty good at the "why I believe what I believe" aspect of that, but yesterday, I was put in a position that was different. I only hope I didn't mess things up....

A lady I work with is a member, should I say WAS a member, of my congregation. She admitted to me that she has not been very involved or has not studied as much as she should. She was concerned about something she'd heard at worship on Tuesday night, and wanted to know my stand on what she'd heard. She was really upset, and I knew I had to choose my words carefully but be truthful. We spent about 20 minutes, and I think I did okay. I pray I did- I want her to study more and learn from the truth what should be. I hope you'll pray for me that i might continue to have dialouge with her about this, and that she will make peace and return to our fellowship.

I get LOTS of forwards. Sometimes I send them on, sometimes not - like those "do it in 10 days or else you will DIE and the earth will implode!" ones. There have been several that contain all those little words of wisdom, and I usually read them through, just looking for new ones. Well, not so long ago, I cut this one out and hung it on my file cabinet at school: "There are worse things than a wrong number at 4:30 in the morning." Yesterday, I got one of those calls. It wasn't at 4:30 in the morning, but the message was just as scary.

Erin had been in a wreck in Houston, and Gregg was calling to give her Dad and me the news. His voice was one of calm terror - trying to ease the news and yet not scare the life out of me. She is okay, he said, and then proceeded to give me the details. Later, when Andy asked me a hundred questions, I could not recall detail one, but my girl is okay. Jerk in the red car that spun her around like a top kept going like a coward, but several nice people stopped to help.

Later in the evening, she felt like talking, so she called. I was really okay, until she told me about heading for the guardrail the seperated her from becoming a projectile out over the skies of Houston. I managed to swallow that big lump and keep talking to her, but the image shook me pretty good. She is okay. She is okay.

Thanks to all the nice folks who came to her rescue in the midst of craziness - I take back all the mean things I've said about Houston drivers!!

More and more, I enjoy sitting back and watching people around me interact. Tonight after church services were over, I was talking to my friend Jackie about something that was really weighing on her heart. I was listening to her, she had my full attention, except for the people behind her that I was watching. She asked me if she was bothering me, and I assured her that I was with her, but just checking something out. The two people I was looking at were as close as two people could be, face to face, arms around each other, bodies in full embrace. The beauty of this picture is that, only a few months ago, these two had gone through major trauma in their joined lives, and their relationship had appeared doomed. A long-term, intimate friendship, shattered beyond repair. Or so it seemed. I don't know who initiated the healing between them, or if they will come out of it anywhere near what they once were, but tonight, they were back and talking. Loving. Forgiving. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and renews my faith in the resilience of the human spirit to overcome the most broken of hearts. I believe it was truly something only a loving God could do. It made my night.

Really nothing burning to blog about tonight; kinda tired from the busy weekend and headed out in a minute for more dynamic preaching and dinner after with dear friends.

Come to think of it, how much of the world would consider going to church on a Monday something peaceful and uplifting? I'm glad I share this blog with those of like mind, who do understand that, no matter how tired I am, and how I'd love to stay home on my couch for "Deal or No Deal?", I will go anyway and be so glad that I did.

What does the world know about contentment, anyway?!?

I love you guys, out there in my blogland!!

Ode to Erin

Everyone ought to have an Erin in their family. Over the years, I've observed things in common with girls named Erin, and most of them fit mine. They are outspoken. They stand up for the underdog and don't care what people think of them for being friends with such. They question. They get what they want; usually by wearing down the opposition (i.e. parents!) They are loving and fiercely protective of those they love. They are not easily led, but are loyal to those they follow.

Dana was 2 yrs. and 8 months old when Erin was born. I think that is the perfect age, for they have been best sisters all their lives. Other than Gregg, Dana is the one person I don't think Erin could live without, which makes me so happy. Erin loves her father fiercely and has always wanted just to make him proud. And me? I think Erin thinks I'm kinda easy; she's always known how to persuade me, to make me laugh when I wanted to be SO mad at her I could scream (and did, a few times!) and can say "MOM!" in more than 100 ways - well, maybe not.

We tease Erin a lot, because she's given us so many wonderful memories to use at her expense, but the truth is, she is the perfect daughter. There is not one thing about her I would change for all the money in the world. There's not another mom in the world with a daughter like mine, and I thank God for her every moment of my life.

Happy Birthday, Erin Elaine LaMore Johnson September 24, 1982

I have several things on my mind today to blog about, but I think I'll do the one most specific to this day... the others will come later.

This afternoon, Andy and I attended an Eagle Scout ceremony for a young man we know through church. He told us that he has been working on his Eagle for 4 years; I can't control my eating for a month. What does that say about me!?

Anyway, back to Aaron. His scout leader told the group gathered today that only 1 in 200 scouts make it to Eagle; the highest rank on scouting. My dad was a scout master for the majority of my life, and he only had 4 or 5 that I can remember. He loved those boys and kept in touch with them all his life. In fact, one of them threw a water balloon and broke my car windshield and I wouldn't tell Dad who it was because I knew he would be so disappointed! One of the neat things is that most Presidents were Eagle Scouts, along with members of Congress and many high level business leaders.

So what does camping and wearing that goofy uniform have to do with being so successful? I have to believe it is more that the process, it is the care and influence of the adults in that boy's life that enable him to have the perception of himself that he can accomplish the difficult without quitting when it gets hard. They learn to dream and plan and depend on others to help them along the way.

I hope to learn in the future that Aaron has done great things with his life; he certainly has gotten off to a great start!!

Five years ago today, Margaret Young, my mom, died. I miss her humor and her ability to see the best in people, her desire for equality and justice for all people and her generosity of spirit. I hope her spirit is at peace.

One of the most frustrating things about mom-dom is having to sit back and watch your kid hurt. Whether it is to help them learn a lesson, or grow a little more independent or just survive one of life's lovely little tragedies, it is what I have hated the most about being a mom. When babies cry, you pick them up and give them a bottle or passie or blankie and most of what is hurting them is gone in two seconds. Then, they are able to put into words what is wrong, and you can talk them through the rough spots.
When they go to college or whatever life takes them to, you are suddenly separated by miles, and you hear their voice over the phone. The anguish and disappointment over the lines breaks your heart, but you KNOW they have to handle it. Although there is not a lot you can do, you'd do whatever if it would just make the pain go away. You know that life will be better and that the days ahead will get better as time passes, but they are dealing with the here and now. And it hurts. All you can do is love them through it. Man, it's hard.

Who says Texas doesn't have seasons: we had Fall today! I saw and felt it myself. First, Andy came and got me up to go to the back porch and feel the air. No mistaking that feel - Fall! You can stand and inhale all day long and never get tired of it after months and months of triple digit dry weather. Unfortunately, I had to get ready for school, so I went back in. But - later in the day, I was walking back to my building, and looked down and saw a beautiful red leaf, laying on the dirt for my pleasure! Now, it WAS a crepe myrtle, and they do turn when nothing else will, and it is a little early, but I don't care. For that moment, I was in Vermont or Maine, or where ever; where you actually need long sleeves and corduroy pants and mittens of all colors. It was great!! "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!"

I really didn't know what I wanted to write about today until I checked my comments from the last entry... YIPPEE!!! Shanon's here! My dear friend that makes my heart smile just by reading her name was there in black and white for me to see!! WELCOME, dear one!

Shanon and I had our first daughters within 4 months of each other. We lived next door to each other and our husbands worked together in the prison unit down the road. We ate cheese dip and played games, and new each other's families. We were both teachers and involved in our respective churches, so life was just grand. After Dana was born, I was staying home the rest of the year with her, and everyday, Shanon would pull in her driveway and go put her stuff in her house. Then, she'd walk over and come see us. She'd take Dana in her arms and lay her across her growing belly and say, "Look baby, here's your friend Dana to play with you." Then, we'd visit while Dana just lay there. How do you top that?!?

Well, the years have passed, and we've both made lots of other friends, but for me, she's still among the very top in almost every way.

My heart is still smiling, just thinking about my friend. I hope you have some one like that in your life.

When my mother died and my sister and nephew left town, my sweet father-in-law asked us when we'd be moving back over toward Houston. Andy has 2 brothers and a sister and we are the only ones who've left the area. We see them a few times every year; mainly holidays and birthdays and now graduation kinds of times. I feel my nieces and nephews don't really know me, but that is how things are when you do live apart.

Anyway, after he asked us that, we talked about leaving and finding a new life closer by. Andy checked openings in his field and I hit the houses in the towns he brought home, and we talked about being closer to Erin and Gregg. Then, we came to a conclusion that my father-in-law just doesn't "get." Pleasanton IS home. So much of our lives are rooted here; our history, our church family - we are not ready to walk away from that into an uncertain place. Tonight that was shown to me again, when we went to the football game. Former students, co-workers, folks from church, etc. were all around us. Kids that we've watched grow up are now in band and cheerleading and playing on the team. We sit on the bleachers where we've sat for several teams, right at home with our crew. It was all so familiar, and felt so right.

I'm not saying we'll never leave - only God knows those kind of things, but for now, we'll stick with Pleasanton. Why? We've been very blessed and feel like no other house could be our home.

I am SO tired of reruns!! I am ready for the new season to begin, so that I can get back to my obsessions: Lost, 24 (but not until Jan. for that one!), Medium, CSI, and ER are full of old friends and unfinished business!! What in the world do these people do when they aren't making new shows for me to watch?!? I know, it comes across as a terribly mundane life, but after a long day of reality, I want escapism and fiction! They even saved 7th Heaven after the WB was going to kill it, so now I can keep up with Eric and Annie and their brood of pregnant kids. (By the way, how can all 3 sets of kids be having twins - that's even too far-fetched for me to conceive. Pardon the pun!!) Just a week or so to go, then it'll all start up again.

I know - get a life, Amy.

I really don't feel like being serious tonight - just got through watching Sybil and that will put a downer on any day. So, let's talk about dolls !

When I was little, my mom had a part-time job while Gary and I were in school. Her purpose was to get out of the house that she felt cloistered in, and she would do various little jobs around town. Every payday, she would cash her little check, load Gary and me into the car, and off we'd go to San Antonio. My mom knew one way in to Sears on Military Drive, and one way home. We never ventured off that road, and never went anywhere else, except to the bowling alley down the road. At Sears, I would get a new doll and a bag of malted milk balls from the candy counter. Gary would get candy and then we'd go bowling. I'd play with my doll while he and mom bowled.
Needless to say, after just a little while, I'd have quite a collection of dolls. Gary, being the great big brother that he was, did his best to destroy them, but I got them faster than he could plan their demise.

Now, I know I had favorite dolls, but to pick one would be very hard. I don't even consider Barbies in that group; they were a world of their own. But if I had to choose, I'd pick Tiny Tears. A lovely little baby face, made of hard plastic, but sweet to behold. You'd fill her "tummy" with water in her bottle, and then when you'd squeeze her, the tears would flow. Looking back, it was kind of odd to set your baby up to cry, but I'm sure there's nothing psychological in that - it was just fun. I played hours and hours with Tiny (she never had a real name that I can remember!) and have her to this day. She gave me lots of practice for holding Dana and Erin, and for that, I'm thankful!

Do you recall a favorite doll of your own?

Isn't it funny how you do something everyday and think nothing of it, and someone comes along and makes a BIG DEAL about how wonderful it is that you are doing that thing you do everyday?

One thing I've learned about teaching Special Ed kids is that they are just kids like any other. I'm not talking about the severe/profound kids; just the everyday kids with learning disabilities. I don't want to try to figure out how many I've taught over the years, but it's been a few dozen at least, and some have been more trying than others. However, they are "what I do" and to me there are others out there much more trying and frustrating than my kids. Well... today, my teacher with whom I do inclusion came up to me and said, "God bless you, God bless you for working with _____ like you do!" She was very flattering and kind, and I felt good but it's really not that hard. Perhaps I shouldn't tell that out loud; I may be "found out." But really, it's not a big thing. I just look at them as if they were my own, and treat them with the respect I would want my own daughters treated. The rest is plain old teaching. I feel blessed to do it everyday - really. The rewards are immeasureable.

Rain, rain, rain!! Finally, nice, measureable, sweet-smelling rain has come back to Pleasanton! The earth is drinking it up as quickly as it falls, and will take all the skies have to offer. Our cat is even enjoying being out in is, as it cools things off so nicely.

It's nice to have prayers answered, isn't it?? Thanks, Father for taking care of us this day.

Don't you love eyes?! Everything you need to know about a person and what they feel and think can be learned by one glimpse at their eyes. Yesterday, I had two amazing glimpses into a person's feelings.

One was a man I was speaking to about an event in our not so distant past. This is a calm and yet passionate man, who never fails to show compassion for others and still hold people responsible for their actions. As we talked, and I mentioned a specific event, immediately his eyes flamed with intensity and I knew I'd opened a can of worms I shouldn't have. My husband's eyes do that; they glow with fire when you've said something that sets his blood to boil. Stop while you can or be ready to hear the truth as he knows it.

The other instance yesterday was when I was working with a 4th grade teacher in her classroom. I was across from her with a group while she was testing a little boy I have in Resource. At just the right minute, we met eyes across the classroom, and her eyes were looking at me in amazement that this child could not read a letter, much less words and sentences. The look of horror that said, "What will I do with him!?" shot out of her eyes and was sad and humorous at the same time. Forget Vegas, Tracy - you have NO poker face!

Eyes - they sometime betray us and yet they give us so much that words fail to convey.

Today was library day for a couple of my dyslexia groups. We walked over and the boys knew exactly what type of book they were looking for, so it was an easy trip. Wish they always had an idea of what they wanted before we walked into the place....

Anyway. School nowdays is rush, rush, hurry, don't take time to talk, look, wonder, think, etc. 5 minutes here, 20 there, don't go off the treadmill for a minute or you'll throw the whole thing off. Well, not today.

On the way back from the library, we stopped. Right on the sidewalk, in the open for all to see. Why? There was a wonderfully entertaining squirrel hiding from us on the trunk of the tree beside the sidewalk, and my two little 9 year olds were transfixed. We took the time to watch, in silence and awe the movements of the squirrel, and then, as an added bonus, two little sparrows taking a bath in the sprinkler in the grass. When the animals moved on, so did we. Back to the room for the remaining minutes. Did we finish our work today? No. Are we behind and have to catch up - yes. Was it worth it- you bet. For a minute, school was fun today.

I'll bet I know what the boys talked about doing today, and it wasn't work.

Every marriage has its problems.

I don't like to go to bed by myself. I need more sleep than Andy does.
Thus, our problem. I should sleep from about 9:30 to 6:30, and he can run on only about 5 hours of sleep. So, if I try to match his pattern, I am grumpy and miserable and the little children at school have to put up with me. My eyes water and I yawn a lot - it's not pretty, people. I'm on the couch, waiting for him to come to bed, and I turn into the Bobblehead from Pleasanton. It's really not nice- it hurts when my head goes bashing into the back wooden trim of the sofa, or I drop what I'm holding, or I SNORE really loudly. All so we can go to bed at the same time.

If he gets up and comes to bed when I go, then his five hours of sleep runs out about 3:00 am and he is awake the rest of the night. Makes for a long day of keeping the criminal element in check.

But I want us to go to bed TOGETHER! It's really important to me, even after all these years.

I'm open to suggestions.

Teachers are such whiners - I admit it; I am one myself. One day, not so long ago, I was listening to some of us and it sounded like such a bunch of babies. I try not to do it anymore, but it happened the other day...

We've been in school all of 3 weeks; two with kids. Just had a nice, long break from the rigors of last year, and should be refreshed and eager to go with a new group. WRONG !! Everyone was so ready for this Labor Day holiday that you'd think we'd been working months on end with no time off! I mean, I don't like it when people insinuate that "June, July and August" are my reasons for being a teacher (see previous blog), but hey, I do like a long weekend just like the next guy.

So, Andy is home, and we are heading to SA for the most fun place homeowners can imagine - Home Depot!!

So... how long till the next day off ?!?! Enjoy today!

Breakfast with the LaMores...
I've been a LaMore for 30 years. Loved everyday of being a part of a great family, but I do have one issue. Breakfast.

To be a genetic LaMore means your eyes open before dawn and you are ready to be up and eating a full meal breakfast. Doesn't matter if you want to sleep in; breakfast is waiting until everyone is up and seated at the table together.

Now, I don't talk when I first wake up, and I"d rather wait a while until I have to eat, but that will not do. Andy gets me up about 2 hours after they have all been up, waiting to eat. I bumble out in my robe and washed face to see them, seated at the table. I know I have offset their routine, and I feel badly - really. But they are all happy and talkative and express to me how happy they are that I am up. I "smile" and jump in to join Andy on the final preparations for the morning meal. My brain is fuzz, but I attempt to make conversation and to clear my brain. I fell awkward and boring and lazy - it hasn't changed in 30 years, so why do I think today will be any different.
We eat breakfast, I wake up somewhere in the middle of the meal, and as soon as it is over, they leave. Gone. Another meal enjoyed
followed by hugs and kisses. Just when I am ready to talk!

Drive safely, mom and dad; I'll see you in Oct. I love you!