Is Mike Home Part 3

The people of Sweetwater had always been very friendly. It was also the kind of town where you couldn't sneeze without the local drugstore calling to ask if you need a box of Kleenex. We stopped at some mom and pop gas station/diner to ask for directions. I walked inside and found two men in their mid to late sixties talking about the weather (no joke). I directed my question to the man on the left wearing a green John Deere hat. He had never heard of Kirkland Street but asked the waitress pouring coffee. The waitress and John Deere's friend argued for a while but finally came up with a route to get us to our destination. Jeffrey and I climbed back in the car and headed towards Service Road 472. We traveled up and down the road but never found the turn off they told us to take. I stopped at a Diary Queen to call my mom and let her know I was okay. While we were there the idea came to me that we should ask a police officer for directions. A very kind man in a large red truck, accompanied with his son, led us to the police station. I walked up to the white building, that looked more like strip shopping than a safe haven, and knocked on the door. After waiting a while I knocked again...and again. Listening carefully for noises inside we heard country music playing around back. We walked around the side of the building to find the door open and no one in the office. After calling hello a man emerged and asked if we needed help. I explained the situation to Officer Jackal who kindly offered help. He pulled out his detailed map of the city and began to draw his own map. We thanked him and headed back for the car. I was full of a mix of emotions. I was so close to knowing the truth now.

As Jeffrey drove I rehearsed all the things I might say if I found him. Would I tell him how angry I was for all the pain he had caused me and my family? Would I throw my arms around his neck and be thankful he was still alive? Did he even want to be found?

I wasn't sure.

Is Mike Home? Part two

Time passed and I tried to convince myself that Charlie had not found the right Mike. There was no need for me to worry.

I couldn't shake the feelings.

I came to a conclusion; the only way I would find peace again would be to find him myself and to see with my own two eyes that he was okay. The first thing I needed to start my search was a little help. I went to see my stepbrother Matt, who I also hadn't seen in years, to see if he had any information about Stephen and Debie, my stepmother. Matt gave me the last address he had for them but told me that if I did find Stephen not to let him know where I got the address. I saw no reason to worry Matt with my phone call from Charlie.

Two weeks later I started my trip with my friend Jeffrey. Our first stop was Cherry Blosom. I stepped out of the car and took in all the sights; the trailer that held many memories of visits with my father, the old tree swing that I spend hours on, and the woods that we played hide -n- seek and war in. It was all still there. I walked up the steps and peered into the almost completely covered windows to see furniture still in place. I descended the steps to walk around back. I found our scooters still sitting under the trailer where we had left them, covered in age, dirt and spiders. To my surprise I found my father's chair outside and weathered. I couldn't imagine him leaving that behind. My eyes filled with tears remembering times when I had crawled into his lap and other times where I watched him drink beer after beer in that very chair. I couldn't find the words to tell Jeffrey what I was feeling. All I could say was, "It's dad's chair.". We spent some time walking in the woods while I shared childhood memories with him. I took him on walks to places I had not been to for almost a decade. I believe I went back to this place first to prepare myself for a world I had long ago put away. In my mind, my father had ceased to exist seven years ago when we had last spoke.

Hours had passed and I wanted to begin my real search now.

Is Mike Home? Part one

For the next few days I will be posting an old narrative I had to write for college. I will break it up into sections so you won't be bored to death. I am going to attempt to have a garage sale soon and this will let me get a break from blogging to work.

I don't claim to be a writer by any means but I did get an "A" on it. I, of course, will be changing names of places and people for my own privacy. Some names will be changed just to hold down confusion as some names were too similar.

Is Mike Home?

I had not seen my father in seven years so the night I received the phone call asking if he had passed away came unexpectedly. I was watching some no name magician on TV when the phone rang. A man, by the name of Charlie, asked if I knew Mike Thompson. I explained my father's name is Stephen Michael Thompson but he had gone by Mike as a child. Expecting Charlie to be one of many solicitors or another bill collector looking for my father I irritably asked what it was he needed. He began to explain to me that he was a friend of a friend looking for Mike because they had heard he passed away. Dread flew into my heart and many questions entered my mind and yet Charlie kept speaking. He wanted to know if my father had ever been to California. More fear tightened my throat as I tried to answer his question. My voice quivered as I answered yes. Stephen spent his basic training there in the sixties. Charlie asked more questions and I answered as many as I could. There were so many questions I wanted to ask but he wouldn't have the answers. We ended our conversation, neither one of us satisfied wit the outcome. He was still uncertain if my Mike was the right man and I was left wondering if my father was alive.

Brendon: "Hey Mom! What's that squishy thing on your tongue?"

Jeffrey: "That IS her tongue Bear."

Flashback Friday

It's been so long since I have done a flashback friday I am almost to embarressed to try and start it up again. It's been nearly three months. I blogged before about how Timbo looked somewhat like Jesse as a baby, but going through photos again he now looks like Jared at around age one. Funny, huh? Now don't judge to closely because it was hard to get photo's of the exact face that Timbo makes that makes them look so similar at times. Did that just make sense?

I think it's mostly in the chuncky cheeks, nose, and brown eyes.

~~Tell me, who do your kids look like?~~

Timbo's first year

Miss Esther Sophia
(I just love those bare feet)

Things will be answered in His own time, not our own

This picture was taken the day we found out we were pregnant with Kati.

We had waited and wanted her for so long. That may sound funny to you if you know us and know that we were only 21 when she was born, but what you must keep in mind is that Kati had her name long before we were even married. We dreamt of her. What she would look like. How her voice would sound. The kind of woman she would become some day. Just the simple dream of holding her in our arms.

Of course it was difficult to see all the people around us pregnant, some unmarried kids. I even had a woman ask me if she needed to draw me pictures on how it all worked. Those words cut like a knife. Just teasing words but painful none the less.

While reading the bible one day I came across this passage and highlighted it, out to the side I wrote just this one simple word, "baby", along with the date January 20, 2002.

Proverbs 3: 5 & 6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make your paths straight.

Exactly one year from the day I read that, exactly one year from the day that I highlighted those words and hid them in my heart, we learned that the Lord was blessing us with a child. Our Kati.

Bear: "Hey mom, I'm building a Batman Castle for me and Timbo."

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with the post. Her silly face just tickled me so much. How can such a beautiful girl make such a weird face. I think I will have to save this one for future blackmail.
Last week for the first time our little girl sat through an entire sermon with us. What a blessing. I loved sharing it all with her. Surprisingly I wasn't at all sad. This is the first time any of our children have reached a stage in their lives that wasn't mixed with joy and sadness. I can only be happy to feel her warm, slim little body next to mine as I hear Randy speak about the Lord that I love.

Right now in the evenings we are watching Matthew videos. It's the book of Matthew, word for word, being acted out. It may sound boring but Jeffrey and I are enjoying it very much. It's having me look at Jesus in a different way. Although this is just one person's interpretation, I had never thought of Jesus being a playful silly man, but who knows maybe he was.

I got a little off topic, where was I headed..........oh, yes, my Kati. It is thrilling to have her whisper to me, not so quietly I might add, questions while we watch. "Who is that?", "Why did they just say, 'and Jesus went off alone'?". She is listening, really listening.

The most exciting way I have watched my girl grow wasn't her first step or the first time I heard her say 'mama' but it has been spiritually. She is asking so many questions now. Wanting to understand this and that. And although I don't feel worthy enough to have been the one appointed her teacher, I know that have been, that Jeffrey and I are. That's a big job to fill but I am glad that we have the job to do.

This morning the kids made a new game called slip punch. Oh, to be young again.

Who buffed?

At our house we don't say fart. I hate that word. In fact I even cringed writing it. Instead we say "pongu" it's the Korean word for the "f" word. I say all that to say this:

Just now all the kids were playing in the living room floor when Bear let a tiny little puff come out.
Jeff: "Who pongu-ed?"
Bear: "I did"
Jeff: "What should you say?"
Bear: "That was me."

Boys!

So I have a few blogs that I read everyday and others that I read every couple of days. I love to read blogs that are true to life, as Pioneer Woman says "keepin' it real". No one's life is perfect and I love a person who can admit that. It tickles me to read sassy things that someone else kids has said, it helps me to know I'm not the only out there. A mom that can admit her faults and can give me a real glimpse into their home is the kind of blog that I like to read. So in interest of keeping my blog true to life I will now share some things.

Bear asks, "Mom, do we get to brush our teeth today?"

and

While driving.........
Bear says, "Mom you forgot to honk at them."
Me, "At who baby?"
Bear, "The people who got in your way."

Clearly I have some things to work on as a mom.

Happy Happy Birthday Baby

Help! I need your help!

Okay, I can tell that some of you are looking but not letting me know which one you like best. I won't name any names, Aunt Tommie. :) Please leave your name too, it's nice to know.
I would love for y'all to leave comments any time. I enjoy getting them.

We had Timothy's one year pictures taken yesterday and can't decide which one to get. What I would like for you darling viewers to do is look them over and leave me a comment right here at the blog. I will leave this post at the top of our blog for a few days so everyone can get a chance to vote (you will have to scroll down to read new things). Please, tell us which one you think is the best and help us choose.Picture A

Picture B

Picture C

Picture D

Picture E

Picture F

I will just be impatiently waiting here to know what you think.

p.s. you don't have to be a member of blogger to leave a comment.

Let me put out this disclaimer, my musing here are not facts but just that, musings.

As I sat there tonight in this room full of Godly women I am jealous. Yes jealous. No, not of the beautiful furnishing around me or of the clothes worn by other women, but I am jealous of their knowledge. I have read some of the same things they have read this week and yet I still feel lost. Confused. Why is it they can read the same things and yet glean all this information when in my mind it is a jumble of words with only some understanding.

If God hardened Pharaohs heart, and he did, does he also close off my mind. Will I ever be able to understand the way they all understand. The words do not make sense to me until someone else directly and clearly explains them to me. I am by no means saying that I think that I should just give up, that because I don't understand I should just put away my bible.

Will I ever understand?

But if God did choose to close off my understanding then I wonder why. I so desperately want it. I am listening to them speak and think, "Ugh, why did I not see that? That makes so much sense. Why did I not see that application? Why did I not relate?"

I am so thankful to sit there every week and just listen. True, I am not really being a participant but I am learning. Please be in prayer for me, as I am in prayer for myself, that I will have understanding. That without the assistance of others I can look at Gods word and receive his truths and grow in Godly wisdom.

" 'Who owns this horse?'.......
His nose was blue-veined and bigger than I'd remembered, and his eyes were even smaller and more piggish. He was a wide an, the sleeve of his dirty
white shirt rolled halfway to his elbows, his big boots scuffed and worn. His hat was too small for his big head and he was unshaved and dirty.

'It's me,' I said, and suddenly I knew I hated this man.
I was wondering, too, if he realized Mary Tatum was in town. Or that she was married to Logan Pollard.

'It was you made all that trouble ,' he said. 'I ain't had no luck since. You an' that
skirt your pap played with.'

Right then I hit him. I hit him on the mouth and he staggered back two steps and almost fell. Blood started to come and he grabbed for his gun. Then something bucked in my hand and he stepped back and sat down as my gun bucked again, and he was settin' there dead almost half a minute before he rolled over on his face and stretched out, but in that last split second of life I saw shocked surprise on his face. And there I stood with that old Shawk & McLanahan in my hand and Big Jack McGarry dead at my feet."

I love a good book.

I love a really good western.

I love that as I sat there on that new shiny red bench with the slight breeze blowing my hair, listening to the birds chirp as cars drove behind me that I felt like I was there on that western street with them. That L'Amour can make almost smell the dirty horse and choke on the dust from the street as I watch the scene unfold. That I am nearly as surprised as Rye about the murder he just committed.

It makes me feel as if I am almost there. The Bible says that heaven is unimaginable and sometimes I would like to think that just for a moment I could be a part of the west when I got there. That I could put myself into all the hard work women had to do and have a sweaty Jeff come home to me at dark. To watch my children grow up learning new things about the land everyday. But, I know that wasn't all the west was about and since the west wouldn't have really been the west without a man having to make his own justice I guess, of course, that I will never get to experience it in heaven either. Maybe ol' Louis will be there and make up new stories for me to listen to.

**excerpt from To Tame A Land by Louis L'Amour

I have a confession to make.

Timothy is one.

He turned one last month.

I have kind of been avoiding it.

But I guess I have to face the fact that my baby is now considered a toddler.

This may seem like an odd gift but I specifically asked for it. Bear has one for a dirty clothes basket and I continually find Timothy doing this with clothes all over the floor. This way he gets to have his fun and the dirty smelly boy clothes stay where they belong.

Most of the time.





This was a great idea. Timothy loves to butt (or is it but) heads. Grandma thought this would keep him from hurting all of us.

Now he just hits both.

He got other neat gifts too I just did show them all. He also got a great trip to Incredible Pizza, which Jeff called Chuckie Cheese on steroids. I think that is a pretty accurate description. The kids and adults had a great time. Thanks Uncle John and Aunt Gena.

This is Timbo's birthday cake. It's a frog in case you are wondering. A frog might seem like an odd choice unless you have been to our house and seen how much he loves his two stuffed frogs. It was Jeff's idea and I am glad he came up with it. Nothing would have suited Timbo better.

Now let me warn you, you are about to embark upon 10+ pictures of just eating cake, and you should know that I spared you from many more but I just love to see a baby dig right in. Because his birthday party was seven days after we came home from camp and we had VBS all week long I didn't get to make a practice cake. Which is what the kids normally get to dig into. Instead I made him his own little cake, which I had seen a friend do for her sons first birthday.
And plus, I wasn't at all avoiding making my last babies first birthday cake.
Bear got to help blow out the candle.







Those lashes are just incredible gorgeous.
I don't know why but this may be my favorite one. Just look at those apple cheeks.

So happy.
I guess we will keep him.

Get your veggies

Have you ever put forth a concerted effort to be kind to someone?

I mean really kind. You talk when you don't really feel like talking, you ask questions about their life when you normally wouldn't, only to be met with unkindness. Sometimes down right rudeness.

I put forth my effort. I was rebuffed, more than rebuffed down right ignored in some cases. And I also learned that this person is not who they appear to be. Really they have a lot of people fooled.

A lot.

Well, I have been stewing in it. Really stewing. At this point this person can do no right in my mind. In fact, I am now rebuffing and ignoring and being rude.

Until I was convicted last night...........

by..........

the Veggie Tales.

Yes, that's right, by the Veggie Tales. How embarrassing. I was suppose to be working on my Bible Study but didn't have all the supplies I needed so I watched a movie with the kids. I was not even thinking about the situation, the person, or myself for that matter because what could I possibly be doing wrong here. And then the little asparagus dealt the blow.

"He has a shoe,
I have a pot.
When we look deeper
there is more that we've got.
God made us special
and now I can see
If you are special to Him
then you are special to me"

The Lord does work in mysterious ways. When I was stewing in my yuck yesterday, multiplied by the fact that I would have to see her, who would have thought that a cucumber and an asparagus would point out my own sin to me.

I can't change her but I can change myself.

She amazes me daily, and not to say that the boys don't because they do. Maybe it's her age. With Kati we get to experience all kinds of things we never have with the boys and just with the simple reason, because she is our first. That's not to say that when the boys get to this stage that they won't amaze me, I know that they will.

I want you to look at what she made after we came home from the zoo. She built a hippo zoo exhibit. If you look closely you can see how she even put food in there for him. Notice the on lookers. I love kids!

A day at the zoo can wear a little man out

First Day of School

As of today Kati has now been in Kindergarten for one week and she loves it. This is a picture from her first day. Just looking at that happy grin you can tell she is enjoying herself and it's not just the new glittery pencils that make her smile. One of Kati's love languages is words of affirmation so she is thriving on all the praise she is receiving.

I don't want to jinx myself but Bear is doing better too. At first he would sit right outside Kati's shut door and play, loudly. Or my other favorite was when he sat in the living room and yelled over and over and over again that he needed a drink. But yesterday he did really well and I was proud of him. Of course the living room was a mess but at least we got threw school. Baby steps.

Why do I even bother...........

less than three hours before this photo was taken I was on my knees scrubbing that tub. It was sparkling clean and now I have a ring from one bath. But that smile is worth it. He sure does love to bathe.

Happy 4th of July

Camp