Today would have been my mother’s 59th birthday, it’s the 3rd one she’s spent in Heaven. Two years, five months, and 11 days ago she left this earth very unexpectedly and way too soon. But just like any other great person in history, her legacy lives on. To honor her on her birthday, I thought I would write a tribute to the things I learned from her and loved about her. More importantly, she didn’t do these things just for me, she shared her love and learning with all who knew her….

• Her character was unquestionable. Never in my life did I hear anyone question my mother’s integrity, never once did I question it. We loved her honesty. We learned your character is the only thing you can take with you wherever you go.
• She was consistent. She was the same yesterday, today, tomorrow. Always smiling, always dependable, almost always a calm voice of reason. I swing a little wider than mom did, but I learned the value of being who you are and sticking with it.You almost always know what to expect from me.
• She was dependable. Do what you say you are going to do. Sometimes more, never less. If my mom told you she was going to do something, you could count it done with utmost quality. If she knew she couldn’t get it done, she wouldn’t commit to doing it.
• She could forgive big, and she forgave often. Many times and many people screwed my mom over in major ways. I didn’t know about it because she told it, I knew about it because I either witnessed it or the offender told on themselves. Many people probably thought they got away with it without her even noticing, they were most likely wrong. My mom lived “turning the other cheek” like no other human being I’ve ever met. She completely trusted God would deal with her offenders on how they had wronged her, and she let it go. All the festering and worrying was left with the offender. The times I would talk to her about something, she would just say it wasn’t worth letting it steal her joy. I’m still working on learning this….
• She showed people how much she loved them. When it comes to your family, you can never show them too much. I was 35 years old still sitting in my mother’s lap. She would kiss me right square in the mouth. If she saw something she thought I or the kids would like, she’d send it my way. If it was your birthday, she’d bake you a cake or your favorite pie. Always doing little things to let you know you were special.
• She was your biggest cheerleader. She never sported a mini-skirt and pompoms, but she was an excellent encourager. She convinced me I could do anything I wanted to do. I kinda wish I hadn’t believed my mom so much on that one. But, she convinced me I could achieve anything I set my mind to. I’ve had some pretty crazy ideas along the way, and some things I probably should have given up on. But, because my mom believed in me, I believed in me. There are countless people that tell me the stories of what they accomplished thanks to my mom’s encouragement.
• She was a great listener. Mom was always one to listen more than she spoke. She always had time to hear your story or concern. And, mom won many arguments without ever saying a word.
• She taught us the importance of hard work. She started out as a minimum wage employee and worked her way up to plant manager. There wasn’t a job she couldn’t or was afraid to do. She would go in early, she would stay late. I begged my mom to retire as soon as I started having kids. She could have financially, but she believed in hard work. I offered to meet her salary to come watch my kids a few days a week, but she wanted to earn her own way. She never made a dollar she didn’t work her ass off for. All of her employees respected her and talk about what a great boss she was. I think it is why I love working so much. I was blessed to be able to stay home with my kids when they were little, but I truly find joy in being at work.
• She was a great neighbor. If someone died, my mom was the one walking the street with an envelope collecting money for flowers and organizing meals. If you were new to the ‘hood there was cake coming your way. If you were out of town, your mail and plants would be taken care of. You didn’t even have to ask her to do it, she just did, because that is what good neighbors do.
• She taught me to enjoy being in a neighborhood and doing life with other families. Enjoy sitting in the front yard with the neighbors, and watch the kids grow up together playing in the street. As I sit in our cul-de-sac and back yard, I can’t help but think back to the good ‘ole days on Ridgeland Drive. All the dads with beer in hand, moms laughing and talking, kids running amuck riding 4 wheelers, jumping on trampolines, playing softball, and putting on talent shows.
• She taught me a little fear is good for a child. I probably had the strictest parents of my peer group growing up. I was afraid of my parents to a certain extent. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt they would find out when I screwed up, and I knew they’d beat the hell out of me if I needed it. It kept me out of a lot of trouble, and taught me to respect authority in all facets of my life. It also taught me how I want to parent. Full of grace, yet full of discipline. Kids want structure and discipline, and being forced to obey will only prepare them for the future. Letting things slide is the easy way out. Mom never took the easy way out with me.
• Mi casa = su casa. There is always room for one more at dinner; if you’ve been here more than once you might as well live here, make yourself at home. You know where the toilet and fridge are, help yourself. I don’t know that anyone ever entered her home and felt uncomfortable. Our house was just a good place to be.
• If your kids want their friends to come to your house, and you have no other conflicts, say yes. Sure, it means your house is going to get messy just after it was cleaned, your grocery bill will probably be double that of most, but if the kids are at your house, you know what is going on. One of the things I loved most was hearing how comfortable my friends always felt at my house, like it was a second home.
• She was a good friend. Being a good friend means showing up. Even when your friends say they don’t need anything, show up anyway, and bring cake. If you were lucky enough to be in my mom’s inner circle, you knew she had your back. Her circle was small, she wasn’t that outgoing. But those who were in, knew they’d never have a need go unmet.
• She had an amazing sense of humor, and she taught us a sense of humor will make life bearable. Mom’s sense of humor was very dry. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she was telling a joke or had just cussed you out in a passive aggressive sort of way. But, her laugh was contagious. I’m thankful mom taught me to laugh to keep from crying.
• She loved to read. She taught me a good book can be great therapy. I loved watching my mom read, you could just see the joy it poured into her.
• She taught me to take the kids to church. My mom actually didn’t go to church with me when I was a young kid, but she took me to church with my Grandmother- every single Sunday. She dropped us off, and picked us up. Even the weekends it was my dad’s weekend to have me, she picked me up and took me to church. Sunday nights, Wednesday nights, and any other time there was something going on, we were there. After I accepted Christ in 5th grade, my mom and step dad started coming to church with me, and we all made Sedalia Baptist our church home. She served in church. I still remember those little kiddos she taught for years in 2-3 year old preschool class. Most of them have their own kids now.
• We loved that mom was an excellent cook, and I love that she taught me how to cook.Our (my busy) life dictated that I needed to help with dinner. As a middle school cheerleader, I had dinner ready at 4:30 so our family could eat as soon as mom got home from work and we would head to the ballgames.She could cook dinner for the 3 of us, or prepare food for a party of 50, whatever she touched always turned out amazing.
• It was important to have dinner together as a family. Almost every night, regardless of what we had going on, and even if it was a bowl of cereal, we sat down and ate together. It was our time to check in, reconnect and plan what was going on. Today, even with our crazy schedules, we all have a meal together every day.
• Mom loved to travel, she taught me the importance of taking family vacations. We took family vacations every year. Those memories are some of the best I have growing up. It doesn’t have to be big and expensive, just carve out time to get away. One of my favorite travels was taking my mom to Hawaii for her 45th birthday. It was a trip with just the two of us, somewhere she always wanted to go. I’m beyond grateful I was able to do that for her. I’m also thankful that we had one family vacation with my mom and my kids before she passed away.
• Mom was a quiet soul. She taught me everyone needs some time to their selves to recharge. My mom was quieter than most, and happier alone than most. I’m not like her in the quiet respect. But, I also learned that sometimes I need to be alone and recharge, and that is okay.
• She taught me that ironing was highly overrated. My mom was Suzie Homemaker. She worked full time, fixed lunches, cooked dinner, cleaned house, hosted parties, and kept it together in ways to make Martha Stuart look silly. But that woman hated to iron. She tried to make ironing my chore when I was in high school. I burnt a hole in a shirt, and we just let that go away. To this day I hate ironing. There’s a perfectly good dry cleaners around 3 different corners from my house, it’s supporting the economy….
• She taught me to never burn a bridge you might have to walk over again some day.
• She was never late. To her, being on time meant showing up five minutes early. Only fitting that she made it to Heaven way ahead of schedule for the rest of us.

Mom, you loved us all so well. I hope you felt that love in return. You were a rare treasure, your legacy lives on in what you taught us and who you raised us to be. Fifty-six years wasn’t nearly enough time for this world to enjoy you; but you accomplished more in those 56 than most do in 80. I hope someone made you a delicious chocolate pie today. Happy Birthday in Heaven.

It’s been a super fun week at our house. My 9 year old follows my hormone cycle with her moods, and needless to say not only do I not feel great, my daughter is crazy this week. It is super duper awesome. We’ve been dealing with some bad choices this week. And, admittedly in the grand scheme of bad choices she could make, these are absolutely minor. But, at our house bad choices have consequences.

This morning it all came to a boiling head. “Mom, no other 9 year old in the WORLD is expected to have the responsibilities I have! No other parents hold their children so accountable as you do me. Everything is always all my fault and you don’t let me be a kid!” Granted, there may be a very few weeds of truth in there. But, sister if you think no other 9 year old in the world has the responsibilities you have, I need to put your ass on an air plane to a third world country, and you’ll see what responsibility really looks like. When you live a life of great privilege, you also must live a life of great responsibility. And trust me, my kids live a life of very great privilege.

So, this got me thinking about a few points to make…..

(1) My job in this parenting life is not to raise bratty children. My job is to raise a responsible adult. You become a responsible adult by practicing responsibility as a child. When you fail, I will help you recover, but you will get lots of practice.

(2) You are 6 weeks away from being 10 years old. That’s double digits. More importantly, it means you are over half way to “adulthood”. I have less time left to prepare you for the adult world than I’ve already had to train you thus far. You’ve got tons of crap left to learn. For heaven’s sake you can’t even find a shirt in your room. How are you going to find your way to your first real job? We’ve got to get busy sister.

(3)I’m about tired of adulting with fellow adults who are (a)totally irresponsible human beings and (b)have absolutely no concept of being held accountable to professional standards. Rest assured, I will die trying to make sure you are not one of these nearly worthless adults. You will be able to get a job, you will know how to get to work on time, you will know how to make a budget to pay your bills, you will know the value of doing what you say you will do, it will not be second nature for you to half-ass everything you do, you will hold yourself to a higher standard than any supervisor every thought about holding you to, you will know how to admit your mistakes and recover from them, and for heaven’s sake you will not blame the rest of the world for every problem that comes your way or every mistake you make.

(4)If none of your friends are being held accountable and taught responsibility, even more the reason for you to learn. Because, guess what! These fool kids aren’t going to be living at my house when their parents turn them loose, and since you are apparently going to be the only one trained to be an adult, you better have a damn good job and plan to take care of all your pals. You are way too kind and compassionate to let them be homeless; I know you, you are going to volunteer to take care of them. And, if they aren’t able to be responsible- you’re going to have a lot more work to do that I thought.

So, yes child. I expect you to come home when I tell you it is time to come home-even if that means telling another parent to call me to come get you if they aren’t willing to bring you home at that time. I expect you to clean your room, and no, I won’t pay you for doing it. I expect you to keep up with your clothes and uniforms, and I will not buy you a new one when you loose the one you had. I expect you to be kind and deal with people you don’t like. It is not my fault that you do not feel like practicing a skill to get better at it. You are not always going to be the best and greatest at everything you do, but you will show up and keep trying anyway. You will not talk back to me or question my authority in this house. It is not my fault that you made a mistake, that your friend is mad at you, etc. I don’t really care if a certain kid doesn’t like you, and you really shouldn’t either. If your friends think I am too strict, I don’t really care about that either, maybe I will make you get new friends.

And, yes I realize you are only 9 years old. Yes, I want you to be a child and enjoy the world. If you take a moment to pause and look around you, I think you will see just how much world you have to enjoy. You have more stuff and experiences than you could ever recount. For the love of Pete, I was 19 before I had a passport, you’ve already been to 3 different countries besides the one you live in. I hope you enjoy swimming and playing in the dirt tonight. And, my feelings aren’t hurt that you think I am the worst mom ever. I know tomorrow you will love me again and think I am the best mom ever. But, more importantly, when you are 25, I want you to be able to look into my eyes and know I did my part. I want you to be a bold and confident young woman who isn’t always stressed and worried about what comes next. You are going to take this world by  the horns, you are going to kick ass and take names. You, my child, are going to be ready to be an adult when that time comes. And, the rest of the WORLD who never had responsibility and accountability, they are going to really wish they were you. They are going to really wish their parents took the time and had the courage to raise adults instead of children.

Our motto for parenting has kinda always been that “We aren’t raising a cute child; we’re raising a responsible adult.” So, on all the “big stuff” we try to have a well thought out plan on how we’ll handle situations….. Who am I kidding, I hate surprises, I have a well thought out plan on for everything. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go according to plan. But, that’s a whole other story, back on track….

Our oldest is 9, chasing down 10 in a few days. Entering her last year of elementary school, too smart for my own good. She asks lots of big questions, she understands more than she should about life. She’s a pretty black and white logical thinker. And, unfortunately, she’s been circling that question parents hate to answer for some time, “Is Santa real?” I could go into another whole dynamic on Santa and Christmas, but I won’t. We’ll just say that our family celebrates Christmas, and we do Santa Claus. He isn’t a real big deal at our house, as we’re also 3 gifts were good enough for Baby Jesus, 3 gifts are good enough for our kids Christmas people also. We do the damn Elf on a Shelf, I hate that thing, but we have 2…. So, here’s how it went down last night. I’m working on my computer, tired, trying to get things finished for the day. Lexi Kate comes up to me, look me right in the eye with a glare only she can give. “Quit lying to me. I’m almost 10 years old. Santa isn’t real.” I didn’t know whether to cry or vomit. I just looked over at Jeff. I bought us a few minutes to get her out of the room. Then I asked, what did we do with that letter, it’s time. I found the letter, we re-read it to make sure it was what we wanted to say. I locked LK in my room so Sam wouldn’t interrupt, and we came clean….

Dear Lexi Kate,

You’ve asked many times, “Is Santa real?” “Are you and Daddy Santa?” “Are the elves real?” “How do they move around?”

So, now it is time to explain. Yes, Santa is real, just not exactly as you have believed. Santa got his origins from the Legend of Saint Nicholas. Saint Nicholas was born around 280 in the area near Turkey. He gave all his inherited wealth away taking care of the poor and sick, primarily children. December 6th was declared Saint Nicholas Day to commemorate his death. Santa Claus made his way to America in the 1770s. The name Santa Claus evolved from Saint Nicholas’s Dutch name Sinter Klaas. Other countries have legends of Kris Kringle, his name was transformed from Kristkind, meaning Christ Child. In 1822 a minister wrote a poem for his daughter titled “An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas”. This poem described much of what we think of Santa today. (Jolly old man in a red suit with little elves helping him at the North Pole.) Between the 1820s-1840s shopping malls began their commercializing of Christmas with holiday sales and “live” Santa Claus’s in their stores each December. The story of Rudolph was created in 1939 by a writer for Montgomery Ward department store. All of it centered around Christmas, as Santa was bringing gifts reminding us all of the greatest gift we’ve ever been given- The Christ Child born on Christmas Day. So, NO, I am not Santa; Dad is not Santa. There is no one, single Santa either. Santa is a legend of good things living in the hearts of others.

Mom and Dad are the ones that fill your stockings, and put out your Christmas gifts. We do this because we believe in the magic of Christmas and Santa. Our parents did this for us, and you will likely choose to do it for your children some day.

However, putting out gifts could never make us Santa. Santa is people who keep the Spirit of Saint Nicholas alive. He lives in our hearts, not at the North Pole. Santa is the magic of love and the spirit of giving to others. What he does is teach children to believe in something they can’t see or touch. Throughout life, you will need this capacity to believe in things you can’t see, things you can’t measure, things you can’t touch, things you can’t quiet understand.

Now you know the secret of Santa. How he gets into all those houses on Christmas Eve. He has help from all of the people whose hearts he has filled with joy. With full hearts, people like mommy and daddy take our turn helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible. So no, we are not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. It will probably make you a little sad to lose some of the magic you once believed now that you know the secret. But, now you know a different kind of secret. You get to help spread the joy as a member of Santa’s team. We ask that you keep Santa alive for your brother and all your friends that haven’t yet discovered the true meaning of Santa and how his magic works through the hearts of others. A child has to be ready to understand this kind of secret. And, it is each child’s parents responsibility to explain this truth. So, keep the joy and magic in your heart as you keep the secret alive for others.

And, yes that means our elves are just little stuffed dolls that mom and dad move around the house each night. Which means, I need to ask for forgiveness. I should not use a doll to manipulate or trick you into behaving one month out of the year, out of fear they will tell Santa. And, I shouldn’t use a fake elf to make you feel bad for not doing what you should. It is mom and dad’s job to teach you to obey and hold you accountable when you don’t; every day of the year. Your gifts from Santa aren’t conditional on your behavior. The whole concept of Christmas is based on the love of our Savior who was born in that manger just so He could die on the cross and take all our shame and condemnation for sin. We don’t have to earn the gift of salvation, and you don’t have to earn the gifts of Christmas. You do however have consequences for your actions on a daily basis.

But, know beyond a shadow of any doubt that Christmas is about celebrating the gift of Christ in a manger. The legend of Santa is kept alive as a reminder to be lovers of others, givers of good gifts to those who need them, and to spread kindness and joy to all every day of the year. So, although Santa isn’t a man in a big red suit putting out toys only for good girls and boys; we very much believe in Santa and the goodness he brings. And, when you quit believing in Santa that joy will fade. May you always keep Christ in Christmas and believe in the magic of good ole St. Nicholas.

Love,
Mom and Dad

She cried. I cried. We hugged. It was terrible, it was perfect. Pretty much like every other day of parenting. It’s hard. We struggle and pray we are making the right decision in the moment, and we move forward trusting our gut.

Legendary Lady Vols Coach Pat Summit passed away this week. As most of the world knows, Pat had early onset dementia, Alzheimer’s type. I don’t know the coach personally. Having moved to TN in 2001, I of course knew who she was. My only claim to her was meeting her nephew at a bar in March 2001 and dating him a few times, until I finally told my mom about it and she helped me rationalize how crazy the situation was. But, that’s a whole other conversation. Anyway, several people have asked me in the last couple days, “How does dementia actually kill someone?” They figure dementia affects your memory but most people don’t die from it.

First of all, there are several types of dementia. The most common, accounting for 60-80% of all cases, is Alzheimer’s. Alzheimer’s disease is most frequently equated with memory loss and depression. And, caused by plaque build up in the brain, twisted strands of the protein tau, and nerve cell damage in the brain. Vascular Dementia accounts for about 10% of cases, and is most often triggered by a stroke. Impaired judgement, inability to plan and make decisions are initial signs, and as the disease progresses, often Alzheimer’s type dementia sets in. Grandmother has Lewy Body Dementia. Similar to Alzheimer’s in the memory loss symptoms, but also causes sleep disturbances, hallucinations, and balance problems. Lewy bodies are abnormal aggregations (or clumps) of the protein alpha-synuclein. When they develop in a part of the brain called the cortex, dementia can result. Parkinson’s Disease, Huntington’s Disease, Frontotemporal dementia, Cruetzfeldt-Jakob disease, Normal pressure hydrocephalus, and Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrom are other recognized types of dementia. Many times, patients will have a combination of types of dementia, and this is referred to as mixed dementia.

Back to our original question, how does dementia kill you? The most basic answer is dementia is a disease affecting brain function. And, our brain controls all other functions of our body. So, when the brain starts shutting down, the body starts shutting down. Most dementia related deaths are either malnutrition or suffocation. The body doesn’t even know it is hungry, so you forget to eat leading to starvation. One of the most basic functions dementia patients lose, is the ability to swallow. The brain doesn’t tell that function to operate, so patients either choke and die, or the throat becomes blocked in their sleep and they suffocate. Because many dementia patients struggle with sleep deprivation, their immune system in general is weakened putting them at greater risk of developing other diseases and disorders such as diabetes, cancer, pneumonia, or even the common cold.

If you know my grandmother, you know she walks with a “drunken gait”. That is the dementia. It’s almost like a severe case of inner ear where her balance is just off. Sometimes, she will be standing in the middle of a room and not move. That is simply because she can’t. Not because she doesn’t have the strength to move, it is simply that her legs aren’t getting the message from her brain to walk. This makes patients extremely frustrated. They know they need to move, but just can’t make it happen. Grandmother also coughs and chokes alot. Again, this is caused by the dementia. Her swallow control is pretty rapidly declining. Sometimes she chokes on food, and sometimes it is just air. Her windpipe gets “clogged” and how most of us let out a quick cough or swallow to clear it, she doesn’t know how to automatically do that anymore.

As I have said many times, I absolutely hate this disease. It takes your dignity and self respect. It traps you in a terrible world. For several months grandmother has been wanting to buy new shoes. I got her a new pair of brown and black shoes for Christmas. But, she doesn’t remember having them, although she puts both on several times a day. Today, I finally broke down and took her to the shoe store, because I just couldn’t listen to it one more time. We get in the shoe store, and she doesn’t know where we are. I explain she wanted new shoes, so she walks around looking. A few minutes later, “What am I looking for here?” Shoes. We’re looking to buy new shoes. She picked out a pair, and of course they wouldn’t fit because of her feet problems. I directed her back to the specialty shoes that would work, and she cusses me and the sales lady about not paying $150 for the ugliest shoes she’s ever seen in her life. As soon as we get home, what does she say. “The next time you have a few minutes, I want you to take me to find some new shoes…..”

I hate that Pat Summit was taken by this awful disease. But, I hope with her death and Robin Williams wife announcing he had Lewy Body Dementia after his suicide, that more awareness is brought and we can find a way to better serve the vast population among us affected by this terrible disease.

I’ve had several people ask me why I’m not posting any funny stories about Grandma lately. I’m pretty good at making light of our situation, and laughing to keep from crying. But, the hard truth is, right now things aren’t very funny. It’s actually quiet sad.

If my “real” grandmother had any idea that her life was like it is today, she would run out in the middle of Lewisburg Pike and jump in front of a car. It absolutely breaks my heart to see her like this. What breaks my heart even more is to think how angry I get at her at times. I’m not really angry at her, I’m angry at this stupid disease, but I know I take it out on her. She’s told me on several occasions lately that I am hurting her feelings. Which, makes me want to jump out in front of a car. I often just want to call my momma and ask her what in the world to do, and apologize for not finding more joy in the journey of taking care of the woman who blessed me so much as a child. But, the good news is, Grandma does have dementia and 5 minutes after I hurt her feelings, she doesn’t remember. And, the Bible promises me there is no sorrow in Heaven, so hopefully Mom doesn’t see me on my bad days.

Grandma has been home from NHC a month today. She was a totally different person in rehab. I really think the facility is good for her. She gets the time and attention she needs to her care, and she has people to talk to. She doesn’t get that here. I have a full time job and 2 kids- there just isn’t enough of me to go around. So, she regresses. Her dementia is much worse than ever before. She used to ask the same question every 5-15 minutes. Now, she’ll ask the same questions every 5-30 seconds. It is very rare that she can recall the kids’ names on command. She never remembers eating.

We saw her doctor last week. And, he really caught me off guard. He just flat out asked me, “What is your goal here?” Excuse me? “What is your goal for her care? What is it that you want me to do for her? ” Before you jump to judgement about his terrible bedside manner, let me tell you he is one of the most compassionate, caring, and gentle doctors we’ve seen. I really like him. But, he’s right. What is our expectation here? He said, “Misty, she’s got a broken brain trapped inside a broken body. We can throw one more pill at it to give you more time, but it won’t give her better quality. She’s dying, and you are killing yourself trying to keep her alive.” Well, alrighty then. All of these words I know are true. And, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that death is not the worst thing that could happen at this point in her life. Quiet honestly, for her sake, it’s probably the best thing that could happen. But, until you’ve walked in these shoes, you have no idea how hard it is to make those kinds of decisions. There’s a part of me that sees her as the only part of my mom I have left. And, as long as I have her here with me, I have part of my mom here.

We talked over some different options, and really talked about what my goals are. Where we’ve landed for now, is palliative care. Essentially this is a step down from Hospice care. Is she dying? Yes. Is it going to be tomorrow, next week, next month, next year? We don’t know that. Honestly, sooner probably more likely than later. But, we’ve been told 4 times in the last year that she wouldn’t be leaving the hospital alive, and she’s still kicking. Basically, we’ll have nursing care twice a week and physical therapy twice a week coming into the house. My main goal, if at all possible is to avoid my kids seeing her die in my house. With palliative care, we won’t be going to the hospital, doctor, or emergency room. If we’re having an issue, the nurse will come out. However, if we’re at a phase where the nurse thinks death is more likely than not, we’ll transfer her out of the house to either a skilled care facility or hospital.

None of that is funny, and we haven’t had the best medicine- laughter much lately. It’s a stressful season at our house. Summer is both of our busy times at work, the kids are out of school, Lexi Kate’s dance recital is this weekend (and we’re not talking anything like Sue Ann’s Dance Factory ever dreamed of), we’ve got some totally pointless neighbor drama, and we’re stretched just about as thin as we can get for the moment. So, please pray for us. Pray for our marriage, pray for our kids, pray for Grandma. Pray we navigate these days well. And, pray for funny things to happen!

In my former career I had a job coach once say, you need to love your job so much that you’d do it for free. As a know it all 23 year old, all I could think was there wasn’t a job in the world I would do for free. I mean, what’s the point? Well, I grew up in more ways than one, and I found a career that I’ve always said I would do it even if I didn’t get paid. Thankfully, I do get paid, and paid well to do my job, so that theory has never really been tested. Let’s be real, most of us got in this business because the income is lucrative and the schedule can be flexible. I mean, all good realtors have been taught to use the line, “If I can’t negotiate a fair price for my services, what makes you think I can negotiate a fair price for your house….” And, I know what my services are worth. I am not trying to be arrogant, but I know I am good at my job and I deserve to be compensated for the value I bring to the table.

And, then God starts working on a bigger plan…. I had been meeting with a wonderful family over several months, and we had developed the perfect plan on when to list the home they were selling to get a premium price and still give them the perfect timing to find a home in Williamson County before school started. A little back ground for you… this family involves the sister of one of my former roommates, who was a very faithful client of mine, and had referred her in-laws to me as well. The family had provided me well over $1.5M in sales in the last couple years. The current sister I am working with is the wife of a veteran, mother of 3 children. One of the children has some pretty severe special needs. In Tennessee after children turn 3, all support services such as speech therapy, feeding therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy are offered through the school system. This family wasn’t going to be adequately served by the services offered by the school the were zoned for. And, wanted to purchase a home in Williamson County, where the schools they were considering had services that better fit their specific need.

So, the magical day rolls around. We list their home March 1, with a plan to host an Open House the following day, and accept all offers on Friday. As we expected, we received multiple offers, over list price, and the family is to net more than they actually “needed” to net to move forward with the next step in their plan. They actually picked a buyer for their home based on the letter they wrote revealing who they were and why the loved their home. The kicker for them was the ministry they were involved in and also that the wife worked with special needs children. There were some rocky moments in the transaction, but all in all, God worked it out beautifully.

The whole time we had been talking, the family had indicated 3 or 4 schools they had wanted to focus on finding a home in that district. I always pray for my families and the process, and trust that God will provide them the perfect house at the perfect time. I’m not overly Biblical or force my clients to pray with me, especially if I know they aren’t Christians and would be offended by this. However, if a customer told me they didn’t want me to be praying for them on my own, I’d probably tell them they had the wrong girl. I just honestly believe God’s hand is at work in every transaction I do, and I trust Him to handle it. Anywho…. I just really felt like God was putting it on my heart that this family needed to be in a school they told me they weren’t interested in. I didn’t really push the issue. Okay, maybe I did…. I just asked them to please come meet with the preschool teacher at this school and tour the school to see if it might possibly be a fit. They had a great experience at the school, and within a couple days let me know that God had definitely confirmed this is where they needed to be.

So, we redirected our home search efforts to this school zone. Let me just tell you, nothing makes a realtor sweat bullets like convincing clients to change their home search criteria, running the search within their price and parameters, and have ZERO listings come up. I pulled to see what had closed in the last 3 months and what was under contract, so I knew things would filter through. So, as things came to market over the next couple weeks, I showed it to them. Nothing really worked. I began scouring social media and everybody I knew that might know somebody that would consider selling in this school zone. I showed them a couple off market properties. Again, nothing was really it. So, we stopped looking and just started praying. They were two weeks away from being homeless and none of us had a clue where they were going to live. Thankfully, God did provide some short term housing arrangements. But, we didn’t have a long term solution. Renting in this area wasn’t an option, as rental rates were far beyond their monthly budget.

So, I just sat on my backside and thanked God for making me look like a royal idiot. Not exactly like that, but we did have some serious heart to hearts….. A few days later Sam was sick and missed school. The following day he was begging to go back to school. If you know Sam, you know he would NEVER beg to go to school. He doesn’t mind school, but he would much prefer to stay home any day of the week. As he didn’t have a fever, and had went 24 hours without throwing up, I decided to take him to school at 10:30 once we passed the 24 hour mark. I was that crazy mom. Again, something not at all in line with what I would normally do, but that day it just seemed like the right thing to do. As I was in the school office checking Sam in, I over hear one of the teachers talking to the secretary about considering selling their house and building something new. I just happened to know where this teacher lived, and it was the perfect neighborhood for my clients. I went out on a limb and asked them more details. My heart immediately sank when they told me how big the house was, what street it was on, and how many bedrooms it had. Without even walking in the house, I knew it was at least $50,000 out of my clients price range. With a defeated spirit, I thanked them for talking to me, told them I would be happy to interview to about listing their house, yada, yada, yada…..

Then, God starting showing up in a big way. As I was driving back to my office, I felt an overwhelming sense that this was the house for my clients. It was almost as clear as if God had said out loud this it, get to work… I’m not a hardcore sales person. If I had to hard sell to earn a living in this business I would be homeless. It’s just not who I am. But, I knew God was telling me to follow up with the teacher. And, I also knew He was telling me that meant I was going to be working for free. We had a couple conversations over the next few hours on both accounts. I mean seriously God, work for free- we need to eat too. And, call someone back, and beg them to let me facilitate this transaction without interviewing other realtors who would tell them what massive amount of money they could get for their house? Once I got settled, where I could think, I emailed the teacher and basically said, what’s your bottom line? If you could sell your house as is, didn’t have to do any work to get it ready to market, and didn’t have to pay any commissions, what would could you sell it for? I told them to talk to with their spouse, pray about it, and call me back. When they told me the number, I knew this was probably going to work out. It was still about $20,000 beyond my clients max budget. But, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing what monthly payments look like based on loan type, and I knew this could work. The other funny thing, is I am usually ultra conservative when finding people homes within their budget. If you tell me $175,0000-$200,000, we’re looking at houses in the $180,000 range. I just don’t want people to be house poor. So, my next call has to be to my clients to tell them I need them to get a lot more money.

So, I called my people and told them what I was working on. I didn’t pull the God card on them right away. I just basically said guys, we’re butt hole deep in this thing, do you think you can get approved for $xxx? Thankfully, they like me and trust me, and rolled with it. They called their lender, got the money, and 2 days later we were all meeting at the house to see if this could work. We spent about 15 minutes actually looking at the house, and another 45 minutes with the families just sharing their testimonies of how God was working in their lives. It’s not every day on the job that kind of thing happens. And, if you really want a few extra goosebumps to know just exactly how God was definitely at work, hear this. The sellers never intended on leaving this neighborhood. It was actually the second home they had owned on that street. But, one day, God just told the wife it was time to move. That week that God planted in their heart to move, was the same week we listed my clients house for sale…. Coincidence, I don’t believe so. And, since the time we went under contract, a family has moved in across the street where the wife is a special needs teacher and they have 2 special needs children of their own.

And, the terms we were able to work out as part of the sale fit everyone’s timeline. The dollars on both sides of the deal were less than $1000 off from being EXACTLY what everyone needed to make the next steps happen. God provided temporary housing for both families as we waited for the next steps to take place.

And, I was reminded that when I am praying for my clients and for God to provide the perfect house for them, He wants me to pray expectantly. He wants me to trust Him to do more than I could ever ask or imagine. He wants me to KNOW that He is going to bless their socks off in His perfect timing. My folks were just hoping to get a 3 BR fixer upper with maybe 2000 square feet. They got a 4BR house, with a living room, bonus room, den and dining room, lover 2700 square feet, a huge fenced in back yard, neighborhood pool, and amazing location. God is faithful. So, do I love my job enough to do it for free? Yep, and today I got to prove it. I went to 2 closings that should have resulted in roughly $20,000 in commissions. And, to be completely honest, I thought about that lost income more than once. But, never once did I wish I hadn’t done it. Instead of a deposit in my checking account, I got blessings deposited in my faith account. When things look impossible, God will provide. And, I can go to bed tonight resting well in knowing that doing the right thing is always the right thing.

So, friends, please don’t start praying that God needs to convince me to sell your house for free too. After all, I do have a family to support. But, I am beyond grateful for this opportunity to serve these two families and know that it isn’t all about the money.

I’d heard that SunDowners was a real thing, I’d heard that full moons made people crazy. I don’t think I really believed much about that…. until Grandmother moved in with us…… As I mentioned before, when I checked Gran out of NHC on Friday, she was doing amazing well. Totally with it mentally and physically. And, she was happy despite the fact it was pouring down rain, which previously would have sent her into major fits. She started digressing some Friday evening, which is typical with her SunDowners, so I didn’t think much about it. I had to work on Saturday, and she was a bit of a pill as I was leaving- but again normal behavior….

Saturday afternoon, she wanted to walk down to the neighborhood social with us. A good sign I thought. She had the energy to get out and walk, and she wanted to be around people. It was slightly chilly outside, so she was ready to leave about 30 minutes after getting there. So, I just walked her back home. She was a little upset that I told her I was going back to the picnic because my kids were still there. But, I just laid out her bed medicine and told her to take that if she was in bed before I got back. She was actually still up when I came in, so I gave her her evening medicine and sent her to bed around 7:30. All is good in the world, until…..

10:11- the time of the first knock. I had just fallen asleep and was in that yummy, deep sleep where you’re dreaming and feeling good. All of the sudden the lights are on and I hear people talking, and then I hear people yelling. It was taking me a minute to come to my senses, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming, or this was really happening. Gran was in my room demanding I help her go to the bathroom and get back to bed. She was yelling that this place was pathetic and she nearly messed the bed waiting for someone to help her up. Well, honey, this isn’t the hospital. You don’t have a nurse call button, so I don’t know what you pushed, but it didn’t alert Prince Charming to come to your rescue. We do our potty business and get back in bed. I’m miffed that I was waken up, but it was kinda funny, so no big deal.

10:34- Knock, Knock, Knock. “Misty!!! Misty!!! Get out here and help me right now!” You see, after our first intrusion I made sure I locked the door when I went back to bed. Grandmother, what do you need now? “I need one of these nurses to help me find my way back to bed.” Grandmother, you’re not in the hospital, there are no nurses here. You need to go back to bed on your own. I’ll show you the way. But, seriously, don’t come wake me up again. I have to work tomorrow, I need to sleep. “I’m sorry, I thought I had a nurse to wait on me, I don’t expect you to do it.”

11:17- Knock, Knock, Knock. DAMNIT! I am starting to get my feathers seriously ruffled at this point. There is a very good reason that I only had 2 kids. I LOVE to sleep, and babies keep you up all freaking night. As soon as I would fall asleep, they’d need to eat again, or have an ear infection, or poop their pants. Seriously, I went almost 3 years without a solid night of sleep, and I wasn’t a happy camper. And, they were cute. Grandmother, not cute. Waking me up multiple times, not cool. I go out the door yelling. I know it was excessive when Jeff sets up to tell me I need to cool it. But, by this time I have a major headache sitting in from exhaustion. Worse than just staying up too late is going to bed and being constantly woken up. So, I put Grandmother back to bed and assure her I will let her know when it’s time to get up….

1:15- Knock, Knock, Knock…. Somebody is about to die. Grandmother, what do you need?!?! “Well, none of these nurses would come help me out of bed so I peed on myself and need cleaned up.” WTF? How can one person have to go to the bathroom so many times in a 3 hour period. You haven’t had anything to drink since 7:30, and you’re wearing a diaper. Go sit on that toilet, raise your arms high in the air, do the wiggle jiggle. Do whatever the crap you need to do to get all fluids out of your body and go the F@$# to sleep. At this point, I am hearing Jennifer Garner read the version of the toddler book, “Go the F@*& to sleep in my head”. It’s meant to be funny book for parents of littles, it is very real in my life at this moment. And, we’re back in the bed again. I plead with her not to get up again.

2:20- Knock, Knock, Knock…. You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. I open the door with wheels blazing, tongue lashing, spear drawn…. Only to see the cutest little boy God every made, arms held up wide, “Mommy, I love you but I am scared.” (I’m sure Gran had woken him up as her room is across from his.) Come here sweet love, and snuggle mommy. Funny how I react much differently to my children than I do to Grandmother. However, in my defense, had my kids woken me up more than twice, they’d probably either be on the way to the hospital or hearing my wrath too. They’re just smart enough to know waking mommy up is a bad plan.

3:14- Knock, Knock, Knock…. Assuming it is Lexi Kate, because my kids have a keen sense of knowing when the other has snuck some private mommy snuggle time, I gently roll to the door to let another little bug in my bed. Nope. “Misty, come help me get dressed for the day.” NO!!! It is the freaking middle of the night. Go to bed! And, you have got to quit waking me up. I have to work tomorrow, I am about to die. Get back in bed. So, I walk her to her room and give VERY firm instruction for her to not get up again. I’m pretty sure it didn’t have one ounce of kindness wrapped in it. She says, “What do you want me to do, just lay here until I die?!?” That’s when I came unglued. “Grandmother, you are not dying. But, if you wake me up one more time tonight, I might just help you get there!” Go to sleep, and don’t come near my room again. “But, I need help finding the bathroom.” No, you don’t. The bathroom is right beside your room. Go to the bathroom, go to bed. She tells me to come check on her in an hour. I just walked away…. I came back to bed, and Jeff says, “I think you need to plan on sleeping in in the morning.” Really, you think. Because at this point I’m not really sleeping at all….

And, that was thankfully all the knocking for the night. Just before 7:00 I could here her and Jeff discussing coffee and breakfast, but I really didn’t care. Today has continued with more awesomeness with a shoe battle and her stealing my breakfast, but those stories will have to wait until another day.

Sixteen days ago, I thought Gran was faking being sick in order to make meats home from work to take her to the doctor. I called her doctor, and they suggested I take her to the ER. Her blood pressure was dangerously low, so they admitted her. That was a Wednesday evening. She was progressing well on Thursday, so we planned to discharge her to a rehab facility on Friday. That’s when all hell broke loose. She snapped, and totally lost herself. She punched a nurse, threatened to kill me, and cussed anyone within ear shot. They had to sedate her to keep her calm, and because of her behavior she couldn’t go to NHC. Friday and Saturday, I was pretty sure she was dying. She was totally gone. She didn’t know who she was, who I was, where she was, what date it was, anything. She could really barely talk at all. She couldn’t sit or stand, she couldn’t even feed herself. The only lucid thing she said in those 36-60 hours was, “Sunday is Mother’s Day, I want to go home so I can go to the graveyard and see Pam (my deceased mother, her daughter).” Then, on Sunday, she was back in the world. She had a little more strength and certainly knew what was going on. On Monday, she was discharged to NHC. Even at that time, it didn’t appear that Gran would ever be able to come back home to live with us. But, God once again had another plan…..

I can’t say enough about NHC Franklin. For one, I was blessed to have a friend of mine doing Gran’s Physical Therapy. I didn’t even know she worked at that facility. But, to have someone who knows us and knows our situation was a huge blessing. She had round the clock care, physical therapy, occupational therapy, and companionship with “people like her”. I’m pretty sure they missed the part that Gran was on a cardiac, diabetic diet; because, she talked about how good the food was every day. They gradually worked with her on gaining her strength and balance. The biggest concern of mine was having her to be able to get around the house by herself. Even though she lives with us, she is home alone a good 6-8 hours during the day. I just can’t be worried about her falling and me not knowing. The last 3 days, I couldn’t believe the strides she was taking. Less than 10 days before, she couldn’t even lift a fork to her mouth, and now she is walking 100 feet unassisted while curling weights. Granted, they’re like 2 pound weights, but still. She hasn’t been able to exert that much strength in months, maybe a year…. And, mentally, she is totally with it. She’s told me about 500 times to get her an appointment to get her hair done. But, I think that has less to do with her forgetting that she has already told me that, and more to do with that she is going to ride my tail until I give her what she wants. She’s very similar to the parable of the Persistent Widow in Luke 18.

So, we checked out of NHC this morning and came home. All the staff were loving on her, talking about what an amazing patient she was, and talking about how much they would miss her next week. It’s amazing what one can do when they want to be granted parole. She was home by herself all day today. From the looks of things, she even cooked some lunch. I don’t know that she has operated my stove more than 3 times the whole time she has lived with us. When the kids got home from school, they ran right up to her and gave her a big hug and told her how much they had missed her. I’m pretty sure this made her month. It’s no secret Gran and LK aren’t BFF’s, but they hugged and kissed, and both seemed genuinely happy to see each other. It blessed this mama’s heart like no other.

I don’t know how long we’ll have happy, healthy, mentally stable Grandmother with us. But, for now I am counting my many blessings that she is back and our life has resumed our crazy version of normal.

I’ve always been a pretty healthy person. I’ve never loved working out, but I’ve always been active. We don’t follow a strict diet, but we eat fairly well. Up until my late 20s, I was always pretty “thin”. I did gain a good bit of weight after getting married, and got pregnant within 18 months of getting married. When I delivered my first child, I weighed close to 200 pounds. But, I dropped that weight fairly easily. Once LK finished nursing, I did Weight Watchers, and got back to 125 pounds. And, just a few days later, found out I was pregnant with Sam. I actually delivered Sam weighing less than I did when I got pregnant with LK. After delivering Sam, I lost some weight but not all of it. Again, after nursing him, I did Weight Watchers, and maintained my weight around 140lbs.

As time went by, life got stressful, and I put on some weight. But nothing I was really concerned about. It was more an appearance inconvenience than a struggle with the number on the scale. And, I was still fairly healthy. Until December 2013. During my routine annual exam, my doctor found some things of concern and suggested I undergo a biopsy and some further testing. Thankfully, the concerns were nothing serious. But, the genetic testing I did showed that I was a “candidate” for colon cancer. Not a surprise, and this runs in my family. I decided at that point, I really needed to be an advocate for my own health. After Christmas, I was going to get my act together and make sure I stayed in fantastic health.

Life turned upside February 12, 2014 when my mother passed away suddenly. The test at the hospital showed that she had heart disease. My itty bitty mom who walked miles every day had heart disease? I will say, I worried about her for a couple years because she had a persistent cough. I know now, that was a tell tale sign of congestive heart failure. I would love to say my mom’s death was a catalyst for my health journey, but it wasn’t. I lost all interest in caring at all. Mom was in shape, got plenty cardio exercise, ate well, didn’t smoke and didn’t drink. If she could die at 56 with heart disease, anyone can. And so, my health spiraled out of control. I gained over 80 pounds. I didn’t eat often, but when I ate it was terrible food. And, honestly, I was drinking a lot as well. The only way I could sleep was to be half lit. And, I really didn’t care what it did for my cancer risks or heart risks. Without really thinking about it, I was probably more apt to spiral myself toward life threatening health…..

I felt bad all the time, I was tired all the time regardless of how much I slept, and just couldn’t get it together. I went to my general practitioner and finally told her I was ready to do something different. After doing some blood work, meeting with an endocronologist, having more tests run- they told me I needed to have my thyroid removed. I spent a decent amount of time blaming my weight on my thyroid and my thyroid on my weight. One day, I realized how much of my kids’ lives I was missing out on simply because I didn’t feel like being an active participant. And, I could tell it was really bothering LK for her friends to make comments about my weight. One day, the light bulb just switched. I decided to do something about it.

The problem is, all the gym memberships, and fitness programs are expensive. I’m not the type of person that can just do videos at home. I can’t buy a gym membership and expect to show up. I have to have more accountability than that. I totally hate working out. That’s where I discovered the Be Healthy Challenge. On a whim I signed up. What could it hurt? I also found out my insurance would cover some time with a nutritionist and trainer. So, for $225 I had a 12 week plan to get started. With the help of a mentor, personal trainer, encouragement from friends, and a solid meal plan; life started changing. But, it wasn’t easy or problem free. During that 3 month period, I was sicker than I think I have ever been in a year. I got pneumonia, strep throat and a stomach virus. Grandmother was sick, my kids were sick, work got chaotic. I had plenty reasons to quit and just forget it. But, I had decided I was worth it, so I stuck it out! I lost pounds, lost body fat percentage, gained muscle mass, and most importantly started feeling better. Quite honestly, I still weigh more now than I did when I delivered both of my babies. But, I’m on a path to do something about it. I also found out during this time that I had severe arthritis in my knees, and if something didn’t change, I would be needing artificial cartilage and eventually knee replacement surgery. So, we had to add physical therapy to my regular workout routine. As of now, my knees are improving- and I get to keep my thyroid. All of my blood levels are coming back in line, and with continued progress, I shouldn’t even need medication.

The Be Healthy Challenge has ended, and I’m still not where I want to be. So, I decided to invest in myself. It’s expensive. I’ve committed to spending almost $2000 on continued use of a personal trainer and fitness classes. My kids deserve to have their mom participate with them, but more importantly, I deserve it. I’m worth the time, effort and money it takes to get there. I spend hours every day serving everyone else. I spend nearly $10,000 a year on LK’s dance alone. I have to mentally change my perspective to spend some of my resources on myself. I can’t be my best for others if I don’t.

So, here I am, putting myself out there on the world wide web. Hold me accountable, encourage me. But, more importantly, believe in yourself. YOU are worth it too! If I can do it, you can too. If something about you isn’t what you want it to be, do something about it. If I can find the time and money to do it, so can you. Please, don’t make it a waste of damaging my pride to put a picture of my 200 pound self in a bathing suit online….

Transformation after 14 weeks

It’s no secret, I do planning well. It’s just who I am. It’s who I have been as long as I can remember. When I was in middle and high school, I was always the kid with the fanny pack of supplies that everyone needed. People made fun of my fanny pack until they needed something that was in it, then they were glad I was proud to rock my styling fanny pack. I have plans A, B, and C laid out for pretty much every situation in my life. That worked out great for me roughly the first 35 years of my life. Then, I guess I got too comfortable in my own skin and God decided He needed to toss a curve ball in to increase (check that, create) my dependence on Him.

And, for an OCD Planner, nothing will send you to your knees like a curve ball. It’s May. Here’s what you need to know about May in my world- the last dance competition of the year is this weekend; our studio recital is next month and preparation is in full force; end of year at school means a bazillion projects and things to do, Fine Arts nights and special performances; it just happens to be one of the 3 busiest months in my career each year, if my family is going to eat for the year, May is when it happens; school ends- thus my daycare ends. We’ve just got a lot of crap going on. So, I HAVE to plan things out, like every minute of every day plan things out.

Then, you come home from work one day and Grandmother says she is really hurting and doesn’t feel right in the head. It’s 4:30- the doctor’s office is closing soon. You investigate what not feeling right really means, you call her doctor and talk about symptoms and scenarios. And, then you say, “CRAP! We’re headed to the ER, and this isn’t anywhere on my schedule this month.” I was quiet certain our trip to the ER was a result of lack of attention. Jeff and I had been out of town for our anniversary the weekend prior, I worked really late Tuesday night, I came home Wednesday only to fix dinner and was planning to go back to work. And, to keep me home with her, she decided she needed to feel bad. Well, that didn’t work out exactly as planned. So, we were at the ER, and then got admitted to the hospital.

Thursday during the day, things seemed to go okay, and we planned for a Friday discharge from the hospital, with a 21 day stay at NHC Rehab to help her with some PT and OT where she could be more independent during the day. And, then Friday morning, Grandmother decided she didn’t like her situation. She punched a nurse, threatened to kill me, and ended up in a straight jacket. So, our plan to go to rehab struck out. She had to stay at the hospital for a psych evaluation and get stabilized before she could go to rehab.

Friday afternoon and Saturday, she was pretty much drugged out of her mind. It was totally heart breaking. She didn’t have a clue who I was, where she was, or what was going on. Literally, the only coherent thing she said in those 36 hours was, “Sunday is Mother’s Day. I want to go to the graveyard to see Pam.” Well, of course that tore me up. I just had to leave. I went home and just prayed and begged God to take her home. It may sound terrible to want someone to die, but this just wasn’t living.

Sunday morning, Mother’s Day, when I got to the hospital, Grandmother was better than she had been in months. I was totally over joyed, but totally taken off guard. I didn’t even bring her Mother’s Day present to the hospital, because I didn’t expect her to even know. Thankfully, when Jeff and the kids came up a little later, they brought her a card. Grandmother’s sisters came to visit her a little after lunch. It totally made her day. But, when they were leaving, she said, “I’ve said my goodbyes and seen everyone I need to see, I’m going now.” Of course I laid awake all night long wondering if something was going to happen to her…. but she was fine and dandy.

Monday, Grandmother had another great day. She was a little more confused, but not out of the ordinary. We got her transferred from St. Thomas to NHC Franklin late in the day. She wasn’t excited about it, but she didn’t flip her lid. She “understood” why she was there and committed to doing the work she needed to do in order to get out of rehab facility.

Beyond rehab, we really don’t know what we are going to do. The frustrating thing is everyone telling me what I need to do, what I should do, and how to do it. It’s just not that easy. There are insurance companies and government agencies involved here. Unfortunately, we just have to work the system….

So, once again, in the middle of my perfectly planned out week, life threw us a curve ball. And, all you can do is just keep swinging.