Honoring Tuesday: Wagie Ride Down Memory Lane

I knew a wagie ride with my uncooperative crew would be difficult, to say the least. But there was no way I wasn't going to participate in honoring Tuesday and her family. So I sat down with my box of old photos to search for anything with a wagon in it. Before long, my little Mr. Beans climbed up on the bed with me and started thumbing through our boxful of memories. To be all of 12, he didn't recognize too much of what we were looking at. So I began to tell him the stories behind the pictures. The memories that I hold so dear. It was a rare moment of that elusive 'quality time' that we all need to recharge our hearts and feed our souls. 

Anyway, a simple but heartfelt prayer is in my heart for Tuesday and her family, and I thank them for showing us what pure, unfiltered love looks like. 

Six Word Saturday: Join the Parade

Celebrate   life  in  honor  of   Tuesday.

Friday's High Five aka The Linkiest Post EVER!

I got a lovely invitation from Ms. Angela at Angela's Adventures to participate in her High Five Friday. The rules appear very simple and she seems like a forgiving soul, so let's give it a shot...

Top Five Gold Star Bloggers

1 and 2: Em and Lee... These gals knock my socks off. They are living their lives with their eyes and hearts wide open. They are leading by example and keep me in a state of perpetual awe. They choose to make a difference in this world in the most creative, smart, funny and humble ways. They are organizing a beautiful virtual parade to celebrate the short, but wondrous, life of little 

Tuesday Whitt.

3. Kacey... She originally caught my eye with her sense of style and creativity. And, as I suspected all along, she has a really big heart. She has created Project Happy Hearts, which gives us some easy yet profound ways to help others in need. We get to celebrate with her on Valentine's Day.

4. Nannette... The kindest and wisest soul. Ever. A gifted photographer whose empathy and desire to help make our world better is evident in all she does. She's donating 50% of all her sales from her Etsy shop to an amazing young woman fighting challenges that would defeat most of us.

5. Jay... Mr. Halftime Lessons, himself. You know him, you love him, and now you get to see him bald!  Talk about putting his money where his mouth is... More on him and his amazing act of charity and stupidity (just kidding on that last one) to come.

And finally, for those of you who are interested in what I am wearing (or too polite to admit that you're NOT)... I am wearing a smile. And I would like to thank #'s 1-5 for helping me with that after a long, sad couple of weeks. Be sure to visit Tiaras and Tantrums to check out the real style mavens.

College, Eh?

I am a dreamer, big time. Or at least I used to be. You wouldn't think so, considering I am such a moody, cynical, unsympathetic bitch to my friends and family. But deep down in me, there are remnants of the girl that desperately wanted to study fashion in London, or live by the beach for a year and learn to paint. The reality is I ended up at a Southern Baptist college in Texas, studying Education, leaving my dreams behind. I don't know if I was "steered" in that direction by my parents or if I just chickened out and didn't have the guts to go for it. I guess it's all for naught, as my life kind of fell apart and reassembled itself into something new and wonderful on its own, anyway.

So of course, this issue is coming full-circle for me and it is scaring the hell out of me. My beloved Moody Teen has finally decided that he does, indeed, want to go to college, after years of planning on running an international car theft ring, instead. Yay college, right? Well, not so fast. He wants to go to college in Canada.  Now, don't get me wrong... I have nothing against Canada, except for the fact that we don't live in Canada. In fact, we live very far from Canada.

And here's where the dreamer in me rears her ugly head. I desperately want to find a way to make this work. Am I insane? Am I indulging my son in his unrealistic flights of fancy? There seems to be so many potential pitfalls, mainly concerning his health. The medicine, the breathing treatments, the chest PT, the exercise... If he doesn't keep up with all of it, his health would rapidly (RAPIDLY) spiral downward. 

So would I be sending him to his death? That sounds awfully melodramatic, grim and morose, but is it the truth (or am I just being melodramatic, grim and morose)? He's going to have to take on all of this at some point anyway, unless he lives at home forever, and that's not much of a life. But at least he would be alive, because I would make sure of it. 

I have to say, that on his ski trip, he did pretty well. He remembered most of his medicine (the really important stuff, anyway). We gave him a pass on his treatments, which I think was good for him, mentally. He needed a break. He generally doesn't volunteer to do any of this on his own, but he doesn't balk too much when we pull out the nebulizer and say, "Ok, it's time...". But bottom line: He has a ways to go in the responsibility department.

Lots to think about. Am I crazy? Should I just shut this down now and insist on him staying local? He's already had one dream taken from him, I am not sure I can bear to watch another die.

WW: 1-800-Your-Driving-Sucks

I apologize for the crass title, but after reviewing the evidence, I feel confident that you will deem it appropriate for this post. 

First things first...I was tagged by my gal pal over at Tiaras and Tantrums to find the 5th picture in the 5th file of the 5th folder on my 5th computer on the 5th floor of my 5th house. Or something along those lines. Well, my computer is very new and I have no photos on it yet, so I will have to look elsewhere.

Oh, well hey...  Mr. Super Shuttle Driver to the rescue! Today, I get to kill two birds with one very muddy stone because of a professional driver's skill/crack smoking/ineptitude. When I look at the photo below, I feel very full of words, most of which can't be repeated here. 

Now I will freely admit that our yard probably doesn't seem like much, but the point is, it is our yard (read: not a road). 

I would also like to mention that Mr. Super Shuttle Driver was not driving up our driveway to pick up anyone in our house. Rather, his driving skills are surpassed only by his navigation skills, and he was at the wrong house.

In closing, I'll applaud the entire Super Shuttle team for their consistency. It seems that their customer service department is operated by folks equally, if not more, moronic, clueless and irresponsible.

As always, Angie rocks! Go check out more Wordful Wednesday delights...

Tuesday's Tribute

I was going to write a nasty 'tribute' to the skillful Super Shuttle driver who apparently has an aversion to asphalt, but it seems rather silly to be complaining about my yard being ruined when there are people dealing with real, gut-wrenching sadness and loss. 

Our silly little meme... with suddenly a significant, poignant, ironic and sad name.

I'm going to take a pass today, but Jay's going full throttle. 

And don't worry, Mr. Super Shuttle driver, I haven't forgotten you. And I have the photographic evidence to prove it!

Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.

The Hilarious Side of Cystic Fibrosis

author's note: I have been so saddened by the loss of sweet, little Tuesday. It does seem that so many of us are facing tough times (to say the least). I wanted to bring a little humor back to my own day, and hopefully yours, as well. You all are the best!

I will have to start with a little background info. One of the effects of cystic fibrosis is some pretty foul poop. Being honest, it is absolutely horrific. It can pretty quickly, without a lot of notice, and one has to be ready to "exit stage left" immediately and have plenty of spare time on their hands. 

Somehow, we were on the subject of "poop" last night (See, it doesn't end when they become potty-trained... it actually gets worse), and we were reminded of the time our little cf patient was 13 and was lucky enough to go with a friend on a private, guided tour of Air Force One (yes, that one). He came home all excited, with lots of details and stories. The highlight being him taking one of his typical bowel movements in the President's private toilet (and he told us this so proudly, too). 

I know, I know... I think he should include it on his college resume, too. It can't hurt, that's for sure.