Category: Family

I am wearing corduroy pants and a 3/4 length sleeve shirt, inside, perfectly comfortable. My son is playing in his swimming pool with his boats, outside, sweating to death in a swimsuit. Happy Deep South Fall, everyone!

I’m posting two of the greatest “mom emails” I’ve gotten in awhile. I always hate forwarding this kind of stuff, so here you’re subjected to it under your on free will- if you’d like a copy, let me know.

The first is a great reminder of how important our work is not only to our children, but to us and our relationship with God. When you’ve dried your tears, watch the video. You’ll probably cry again, but this time because you’ll be laughing so hard at our day put to music.

Enjoy! :

I’m invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, “Can’t you see I’m on the phone?”

Obviously not. No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I’m invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, “What time is it?” I’m a satellite guide to answer, “What number is the Disney Channel?” I’m a car to order, “Right around 5:30, please.”

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude – but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.

She’s going – she’s going – she’s gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, “I brought you this.”

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: “To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”

In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

* No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.” And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.”

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, “My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, “You’re gonna love it there.”

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

The underlined statement makes sense. When things are done wrong, everyone sees it.

“Therefore encourage one another, and let each one help to strengthen his friend, as in fact you do.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11

This was the picture from the first day that we were completing at 8:00 that night because he didn’t want to get his hands dirty at school.

Red Circle week

Painting skills- each week they have a color and shape that they look for

The above 2 are from the “God bless my friends & family” week

This week is “I am special”

As you can see, I think it’s time to get my camera serviced- sorry these are blurry. Guess we’ll be having a field trip to De Ville Camera later!

A few months ago Wilson went into a maternity store dressing room with me. I had several things to try on, one was a dress. I got the dress over my head and shoulders, but that was as far as it was going. When I tried taking it off, it was quite apparent that it was not going the other direction either. After a few tugs and hearing a few threads pop, I called the cashier to come remove me from her merchandise. This was apparently more embarrassing for Wilson that it was for me because several weeks later we were in another store and as I entered the dressing room with an arm load of potential purchases, Wilson stopped. He looked at me and said, “Mom, you not gonna get stuck”!!

Our best pal, Nathan had his birthday party a couple of weeks ago. It was a bug party and everyone had a blast. As a favor he gave out small, plastic magnifying glasses and plastic bugs. Wilson has been attached to these treasures like they were gold since we left the Werne’s house. He momentarily left them on the coffee table and went into another room while we were at my mom’s a few days ago. His daddy picked it up and, being his “curious” self, began to fiddle with it, ending in the glass coming off of the handle (in his own words, Pat Pat & Paw you’ll appreciate this, “it came apart”). He slyly stuck the glass back on the handle and waited for Wilson to return. As soon as Wilson picked it up, the pieces of course “came apart” again. Phil gasped as if in shock and asked what happened. Wilson looked right at him and said “who did it!?”

Wilson is very aware of any and all flags flying right now and lets you know when there is an American flag or a Mississippi one. We were watching a video the other day and he recognized that there was a flag on a ship, but didn’t know which it was. I explained that it was the French flag- it goes with the country France. When I asked him what country we live in he replied “Big Daddy’s country” (my dad’s undeveloped land near Pisgah).

“Where’s my Granna . . . where’s my Granddaddy . . . where’s my Grandjohn?” (that would be my 18 year old brother) I said where’s John? “He’s in Mississippi” (he’s currently a freshman at MS State).

After asking him multiple questions about his day at preschool, “Mama, your driving me peanuts!” I guess a combination of me telling him he’s driving me crazy and making me nuts.

Well, after much debate and a horrific view into the names on my side of the family’s ancestry around the dinner table yesterday, we have settled on a name for little Shu-Shu (assuming we can break the habit of calling her Shu-Shu!). Her name will be

hope you get a minute to read it!

Lori is a friend of mine that I met in my former, pre babies, life when I was working. After years of claiming she and her husband beyond a shadow of doubt, would never, ever have children, they are joyfully expecting their first baby a couple of days after Shu Shu is due! In response to an email I sent her wishing her well and letting her know how excited I was that a wind of change had blown her way, she replied that I was such a GREAT mom, and should offer workshops, and blahba-dee, blah, blah, blah. I have not replied to that email, because quite frankly I am overwhelmed by the praise and find it quite misplaced. So Lori, just in case my greatness is casting to big of a shadow in your general Floridian direction, here goes. . .

I had cheeze-its, brownie bite cookies, and a coke for breakfast. I yelled at my dog and banished him to his crate for scooting his behind across the floor thereby leaving a trail- someone needs to invent doggie toilet paper. Wilson is watching Toy Story 2 for the second time today- it’s only 10:15. I cried this morning because thinking up something to wear was just too overwhelming (I decided on a t-shirt and sweat pants- an outfit worthy of a melt down). So, this my dear friend, is how I respond to the marathon of all parenting challenges- spending the entire night in your child’s bed while he cries out in his sleep every half hour for you (who is RIGHT THERE) due to a high fever.

Here’s how Wilson has greeted his day- no fever, down from 104 less than 12 hours ago. Watching a movie, eating his breakfast, running to me, thrilled to pieces that he “finally” found the picture of the the Radiator Springs sign in his Cars book. It has sound buttons to match certain pictures placed in the story line. He can now push the sign button. I had no idea that he had been on the hunt for this wily Where’s Waldo of illustrations, but he’s in there “reading” right now (which means pushing each button as he comes to it on the page) and he came running in here and in an astonished voice said, “Mamma, I FINALLY found that sign, I found that picture of the sign!”. I, having no idea what he was talking about, of course had to follow him into the den to relish in the discovery with him.

All of this just makes me want to look at him and say, “Were you THERE last night!? How in the name of WHATEVER do you have the clarity to make new discoveries and the energy to RUN to tell anyone about them. How can you be WELL! We were in the same twin sized bed, right? That was you feverishly crying, whining, chattering, and flailing around ALL NIGHT LONG like a crazy person, right?”

Maybe not. Maybe I’m the crazy one. We all know our own mom’s are a little nuts, maybe I’ve just finally turned the corner.

So, Lori, I’m calling off the workshop today and your homework won’t be due until next week- I’ve got hot dogs and cheez-wiz to cook up for lunch. And if I’m not in class on Monday, call Whitfield, I’ll be in the pretty padded cell singing Woody’s Round-Up (Wilson’s new favorite song, that we play on repeat).

What a peaceful little sleeper- on mom’s side of the bed, head on her favorite pillow! Wilson came and got in our bed one morning last week and fell back to sleep. He looked so cuddly and sweet I really couldn’t do anything other than take his picture, even though I would have given anything to be in his exact spot!

Too bad that peaceful sleeping doesn’t happen all night every night. Like last night when his high fever kept him up so he slept on a pallet on our floor. He had a low-grade fever on Monday, but it did not affect him at all. Then Tuesday he woke up asking to go to school. I told him we’d have to take his temperature, but if he still had fever he couldn’t go. To which he replied, “P-leeease let me goooo to my BIIIIG school!”. 97.7. He went to school. Then I spent the better part of yesterday fussing at him to quit whining so much, only to discover at 7:00pm that he had 102 fever. Mom of the year, right here!

I think the official diagnosis is the crud. Thankfully, though, not strep. I have to say he braved the swabbing of the throat much better than I expected. Of course, it was the first time- I’m sure from now on he’ll be much more wary of 10″ Q-tips.

As we were leaving the office one of the nurses gave me a “bless your heart” look as she asked when I was due. When I told her January 16th her jaw about hit the floor. Then, I guess just to double check, she asked how far along I was. When I said 20 weeks she just about passed out. I guess it’s safe to say that Shu Shu (no, we still don’t have a name yet- does anyone know the Chinese meaning of Shu Shu, we may just stick with that!) is going to be a big baby. I’ll round up and say I’ve gained about 2 pounds and at our last appointment she was measuring at 63%. Maybe she’ll take after her great grandmother. My grandmother has a note from a relative congratulating her on a childhood achievement and being a “large girl”. Shu Shu has made her first visible flip- apparently she likes Hello Kitty candy. I was taking a bath last night and had some cherry sours. I looked down to see her making some very big gestures of approval.

Well- those slice and bakes aren’t going to put themselves in the oven. I better go . . .

“My new BIG School”

The new smile

A little better- is he going to preschool or 1st grade!?

Jack wanted to join in the fun

Today was Wilson’s first day in Mrs. Erika’s (“E-ika’s”) room at Trinity Preschool. I think it went quite well from his description (new songs, not old ones, he got to play in the gym and tried to catch the green ball, they read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, and had cheese crackers for snack). He didn’t cry when I dropped him off, which is a HUGE milestone, but when I asked if some of his friends cried he said they did. Then I asked if he cried and he said he did, so maybe the day got more emotional as it went on! Their art project for the day was paint prints of their hands on a piece of paper labeled “My First Day at Trinity”. Wilson’s is blank. He didn’t want to get his hands dirty.

Hand on forehead- “I can’t believe you didn’t bring the video tape or dad or my brother this time!”

Full profile- she has legs!