Six Flags...Now Rated PG-13

*Note: The bottom portion of this post is rated PG-13, so you might want to keep the kids off this one.

The boys received season passes to Six Flags this year for Christmas, and since we are the parents of said minors, we get to accompany them, so we received season passes from ourselves also (allow myself to introduce myself...huh?). I know that Six Flags is supposed to make you happy...it's the happiest place on earth, right? Or is that Disney World...I forget. But my kids think it's the happiest place on earth because it's here and because we can go there many, many,...many times.

Well the day after Christmas was the first of many, many, many more trips I'm sure, and it did not make me happy. Oh sure, seeing my kids enjoy it made me happy...I'm not totally heartless.

But standing in all those lines...and people, it was hot. I know it was December 26th, but it was a humid 76 degrees when we went and probably 96 degrees inside the line buildings. And I'm a slight hater of dirty places...and yes kids, Six Flags is a dirty, dirty place.

And because this...Six Flags brings out the skank in people. I know it was warm this day, but girls (read skanks) were wearing their backless halter tops with their bikini top underneath with their low rider jeans...I am not kidding. And I know there are many, many,...many more 90 degree days where we will be lucky if they're wearing the jeans or the halter.

And I'm all for expressing your opinions, but people are getting much more vocal with them and wearing them on their shirts...AND WE GET IN LINE RIGHT BEHIND THEM.

I tried to stand really close to her so my kids could not read her shirt, but it was impossible. They didn't ask...and hopefully won't ask their friends when they get back to school. The real sweet part was...she was in line with her 7 year old. Evidently, Mothers of the Year go to Six Flags too.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Bathroom

This story will confirm 2 things: (1) I am a dork, and (b) Steve has the patience of Job.

Last Tuesday night was our last night in Mississippi where we had enjoyed pre-Christmas festivities with my sister and her family. During the night (actually about 3:45 Wednesday morning), I got up to go to the bathroom (an aggravating, irritating activity because either I am getting old, or because I have the bladder the size of a peanut). Anyway, as I get up out of bed I hear someone in the bathroom which I assume is my dad...because he also gets up a million times a night to use the bathroom (which is because he IS old...sorry I had to throw you under the bus like that dad) and as I open the door I see someone walking down the hall towards the living room in black sweat pants (the kind that make swishy noises when you walk), and what I believed to be a black jacket and shoes. I thought it was weird that my dad was dressed and walking away from his bedroom, but I was sleepy so I dismissed it...for about 2 seconds because that's when my brain starts up with all the scenarios. After I finished in the bathroom, I went into the living room and then the kitchen and didn't see anyone. Then I went to my mom and dad's room and...(play scary music here) both my mom and dad were IN BED! Okay now I'm kind of freaking out.

I go into our bedroom and wake Steve up (here's the part where his patience comes into play) and I tell him I think someone's in the house because I saw someone come out of the bathroom in black clothes, and because daddy is still in bed, and because I most certainly will not be able to go back to sleep until you get up and look around the house in your underwear. So he gets up (I think he kind of half believed me because usually when this scenario plays out in our own house, he rolls over and goes back to sleep. When we were first married he got up and got his gun about the first 6 times, but after that...no, he just rolls over and goes back to sleep).

He "clears the house" (that's cop lingo for looking behind every door and in every room in case you haven't watched COPS before) and he finds the back sliding glass door unlocked and the door leading from the sunroom to the living room unlocked (cue scary music again...I'm serious, my heart was beating a mile a minute). He tells me to wake up my brother-in-law and so I did telling him we thought someone had been in the house. He and Lisa get up and we (read I) began telling them the story and telling him the back doors were unlocked but evidently I SCARED THEM OFF because they left without taking anything.

That's when our discussion in the living room starts waking up our 5 children asleep in said living room. Ashley starts to rouse and ask what's going on and Steve told her I saw someone leaving the bathroom and we thought someone was in the house. That's when she says, I went to the bathroom a little bit ago and I didn't see anything. Then Steve asks her, "are you wearing black swishy pants?" (he is an investigator after all), and she pulls back the covers showing her sweat pants and says "yes." Omg...I totally thought Ashley was a robber and I woke up the whole house because of it.

After my apologies to everyone and telling them to go back to sleep because we have to get up in 2 HOURS to leave for home, we went back to bed. I thought Steve was going to reassure me that I did the right thing and everyone should be as good a citizen as me...but this is what he said to me before rolling over and going back to sleep..."you're killing me smalls."

Nice.

Celebrate the Day

Over our pre-Christmas trip to Mississippi, I purchased the Relient K Christmas CD at the urging of my niece, Ashley. There is a song on there that I've been thinking about non-stop since I first heard it. Some of the words are:

"...the first time that you opened your eyes

Did you realize that you would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left your lips

Did you know that it would change this world forever?

...This baby would one day save me.

And I celebrate the day that you were born to die

So I could one day pray for you to save my life."

Today I celebrate those precious eyes, and first breath that opened the way for my salvation. I pray your family will celebrate this day...and the baby that changed this world forever.

Yes Caleb, There is a Santa Clause

Well today the charade ended. There have been signs for months, maybe years, that I don't have babies in my house anymore...that my boys are growing up and I can no longer deny the fact that they are one step closer to not crawling up in my bed for a tickling/giggling session anymore, or taking bubble baths, or calling me 'mommy.' Today, Caleb told me he doesn't believe in Santa Clause anymore.

And I know this conversation should not have led to tears, but come on, it’s me...and most things that make me realize my boys are growing up leads me to tears. We were riding home from church, and my niece, Ashley, asked Caleb something about Santa. He immediately looked at me, and his eyes filled with tears. He said, “I kind of know it’s really you and daddy, but I still believe.” Just seeing him get emotional made me teary and I asked him why he was crying. He said, “ever since I was five, you wanted me to believe in Santa, but the kids at school told me it wasn’t real.” I know he was emotional because he thought it would make me sad because he didn’t believe anymore…that’s how sweet and tender he is. I hugged him, and told him that we only wanted him to believe in Santa because it’s just a fun thing at Christmas…and it’s okay that he doesn’t believe anymore. “Santa” will still visit every Christmas and we’ll still have fun “believing.” About 30 minutes later, you could tell he was still thinking about it and he said, “I still kind of believe in Santa, mom.” I asked him why and he said because he still wants to tell little kids to believe, but in my heart I think it’s probably because he thinks he might not get as many presents…either way, I’m okay with that.

And while I’m sad that the childhood innocence of believing in Santa no longer exists in my house, I want to make sure I always see the positive side of things too. Like, not having to watch what we say to make sure we don’t give it away, or not having to buy double gifts and making sure Santa looks like a rock star…believe me this gets harder as they get older and a stocking full of hot wheels cars do not cut it anymore. And then there’s not having to get up at 5 a.m. on Christmas morning to make sure we capture on video the first look of excitement in seeing what Santa brought.

But then again, we will never again capture on video those precious little faces and the first look of excitement in seeing what Santa brought. Those tubals can be reversed, right?

Yeah, They're Equivalent

Tonight our family played Christmas angels. After we finished, we were talking to the boys about how good it is to give at Christmas, and how blessed we are that we can give. This is the end of that conversation:

Me: No matter how much we give, God always gives us more back.

Caleb (my sensitive, thoughtful one): He gave us our life.

Me: (tear in my eye)

pause...pause...pause

Cody (my not-so-tender one): And a Wii!

Really, what more could you ask for...life AND a Wii.

Ahhh...Those Were the Days

I picked this jewel up at Target tonight, and Steve was all, "you've got to be kidding." Nothing makes the age difference between us more apparent than this. When I was pretending to be Karen Carpenter in the bathroom mirror at home using my hairbrush for a microphone, he was in diapers.

Hodge Podge

This is Abby being nosey about my camera...the one she'll run away from every time I try to catch her drinking out of the toilet.

Steve got a SWAT call out today. These are the times that being a police officer's wife makes me nervous...when he flips on his lights and siren, knowing that he is about to be going 80+ mph in rush hour traffic trying to get to a hostage situation. The boys love it when it happens though.

It turned COLD today...REALLY COLD. It was sleeting a little, and I heard rumors that a little snow even fell. Tonight when we came home, I was the last one to get out of the car and the boys thought it would be sooo funny to lock me out of the house in the cold garage...

They're not going to think it's so funny in the morning when I wake them up the way my dad used to wake us up...by flicking us on the face with ice cold water. I'll make sure I have my camera ready then too.

One for the History Books

This is the first year for my nephew Jeremy to participate in the Hanging of the Green at our church. I always love this service...the youth lead in worship and decorate the sanctuary for Christmas. They did a great job...that's not the history making part...this is...

Jeremy wore a tie! I bet he did wear his silky sport shorts under his pants though.

Christmas Spirit

For the past 3 years, this has officially been what has gotten me into the Christmas spirit...seeing MercyMe in concert. Tonight we were able to take my mom and dad with us. My mom asked me a couple of days ago if she needed to take her ear plugs. Um, yeah...I hope so!

I don't talk about my job much on this blog because frankly there's no way to make accounting even remotely sound fun...but I do love these guys...and their ministry...and their creativity. Alot of people have negative things to say about their bosses, but I can honestly say these guys are some of the nicest and most generous people I have ever known. I've been with them long enough to know that what you hear in their music is what their lives are...on and off stage...business and non-business. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be associated with them and get to work with them...and I am also grateful for free concert tickets!

And no, I cannot get free CD's or concert tickets for your entire family, or arrange for them to sing at your 10 year old's backyard birthday party.

Happy Time

I was expecting a package today and kept going out to my front porch about every 15 seconds to see if it had arrived. It was something that I technically "received" for my birthday, but didn't order it until Cyber Monday (which, by the way, I totally fell in love with this year!). I had several things to do out of the house today which made me antsy because I am paranoid about the UPS man leaving a box on my front porch for the whole world to see and someone stealing it...yes, I'm cynical and I'm married to a cop...there's alot of bad people out there...seriously. Anywho, the day kind of went from bad to worse.

I had taken my shot last night which always makes me feel kind of like a truck hit me the next day, and then I had a semi-emotional episode sitting in a Conn's store...I seriously need a shirt that says..."it's okay, I cry alot." I usually have a good reason (keep telling yourself that Gina), and I really didn't this time. And by now, I'm not typically embarrassed that you can absolutely tell that I've been crying...sometimes with mascara stains that actually drip on my shirt, or leftovers of kleenex still stuck to my nose where I have blown it so many times. I just look at the people who are staring at me and I'm all "what? you've never seen a pre-menopausal woman before?"

Anyway...when I finally made it home tonight, it had arrived...and it made all my gray skies turn to blue...

It's my new friend...the one I will carry with me everywhere waiting for the perfect pictures to go with the warped thoughts I have going on inside my brain that end up here...and yes, this picture is blurry because I took the picture of my new camera with my old camera which as you can tell is on its last leg. Excuse me while I go read the operating manual from cover to cover...

I Am Officially an Activist

ac⋅tiv⋅ist 
 /ˈæktəvɪst/[ak-tuh-vist] –noun
advocating or opposing a cause or issue vigorously, esp. a political cause.

The process starts by receiving a sweet, harmless little postcard that says "In a few days you will receive an American Community Survey questionnaire. Local and national leaders will use the information from this survey for planning schools, hospitals, roads, and other community needs. We would like your help in completing this survey. Kisses and hugs" (not really on that last part). We got the envelope, and it sat on my desk unopened for a couple of weeks. I mean, I'm willing to help, but I'm really busy with my job, and being a wife and mother, and cooking and cleaning, etc. (okay, not really on the cooking and cleaning part either). Then, I get another envelope which I notice on the outside says "Your Response is Required by Law." That got my attention...so I opened it up.

There it was...28 pages of nosy rosy questions such as the exact amount of income we earned last year and what time Steve has to leave for work in the morning. Also the names, birthdates and 4 pages of questions to complete on each person living in the house. Are they serious? I started completing it, and then the hair on the back of my neck started standing up. I read the letter that came with the "book" and it says "This survey is so important that a Census Bureau representative may attempt to contact you by telephone or personal visit if we do not receive your questionnaire." Okay, now, I'm ticked.

First of all, the letter says we were chosen as part of a randomly selected sample. How can we be required by law to complete a questionnaire that is not required of every one of our neighbors?

Also, if they have been using the question of what time people have to leave for work in the morning to develop better programs to reduce traffic congestion, those people need to be fired for being morons because traffic has been horrendous in the metroplex since right after Noah built the ark. And I have a bright idea, why don't you ask the schools, hospitals, and fire stations if they are overcrowded or receive too many calls and use that as a basis for where new ones are needed? The information is supposedly also used to plan for the healthcare needs of the elderly. Seriously people, go visit your local nursing homes. It seems like the time spent on making harassing phone calls and visits would better be served by, oh I don't know, actually going to the source.

So I do what I always do when I need to make an important decision, I googled it. And there I found all sorts of people who felt uneasy about this questionnaire, and the repercussions of not completing it. Evidently, I am about to endure 90 days of annoying phone calls, and possibly visits before they will back off. Evidently they can fine me anywhere from $100-$5000 for not completing it, although one of the forums I read said they could find no record of anyone ever being fined. They will send 2 envelopes (already received), then they will call our home for 30 days (okay, we very rarely answer our home phone anyway), and then they will attempt to visit our home for 30 days before they give up. I know I will be answering my door with my 80 pound black labrador right by my side clawing at the glass door to get out. That might deter a second attempt.

I always discuss my plans to rebel with Steve before I actually do it, and he was all "bring it on." I love it when he encourages my rebellion! So, I am officially not complying with the U.S. Census Bureau...and I'm downright giddy waiting for those phone calls and visits.

And, if they succeed in making an example out of me, I hope they have the orange jumpsuits. Black and white stripes do not look good on me.

Mamaw Video

Several people in my family wanted access to the video done for Mamaw's service, so here it is.

Quotes of the Week...Already

Yeah, I got some doozies on Sunday and Monday, so here goes.

On Sunday, our entire Sparks family was eating lunch before the Newmans headed back to MS. We were discussing how it was so neat that we've all connected with some old friends on Facebook and talking about sometimes you get a friend suggestion vs. a friend request...basically the whole "friend" thing.

Then my dad says, "I just deny any more friend requests I get. How in the world am I gonna keep up with 85 people? I can barely keep up with myself."


Yesterday Caleb got to go to Bass Hall on a field trip with his grade. They went to see "Jason and the Argonauts." When I picked them up from school, I was excited to ask Caleb about it and if he had fun. Here's the play by play:

Me: Caleb, did you have fun at Bass Hall today?

Caleb: Not really. It was kind of boring.

Me: Boring? How come...did you not like the play?

Cody: Those plays are always boring. I didn't like it when I went either.

Me: Well someday you're probably going to date someone who likes to go to plays and it's good that you're learning how to act in a place like that.

Caleb: "I would never date anyone like that."

I have a feeling if she doesn't ride a bike, or a skateboard, or like to climb trees, she's out.

A Week of Thanks - Recap

*Warning: This post is extremely long and could prove to be boring to anyone not in my family. This is mostly about trying to remember all the details of this week so when my brain goes one day, someone will know them.

Last week was an unusual Thanksgiving week, but a good one. As noted in my previous post, my Mamaw went to Heaven on last Wednesday morning about 9:30 a.m. My mom, dad, Karen (one of her caregivers), Fred (the hospice nurse), and I were there for her final breath. We grieved, but it was so exciting to know that her last breath here on earth ushered her into eternal life in Heaven...with no Alzheimers, no pain, no tears...just catching up with our loved ones gone before and worshiping her Lord forever. So many things happened...

I will only post this little part because I know Mamaw would totally get a hoot and a laugh from this. On Monday night before Mamaw died, she had already entered into a nonresponsive state where she was breathing shallow, but her eyes were fixed and her body was shutting down. In this stage, because your body is trying to rid itself of everything, you can develop a severe case of bad breath (basically death coming out of your mouth...pleasant thought huh?). Anyway, we were saying our goodbyes that night to go home and Cody went over and kissed Mamaw on the cheek. When he turned around, his eyes were kind of wet and he kind of shook his head. My mom told him that she was sorry but Mamaw's breath was real bad because of the state she is in. And he said, "I was wondering because it really reeks." Tactful no, honest yes.

I really loved singing to Mamaw that night because I know she heard us and she always loved to hear us sing.

Tuesday, I spent most of the afternoon in Mamaw's room with some other family members talking about alot of things, especially Mamaw. It was good because we very rarely get the chance to do that other than holidays when it is so loud and busy, you can't really talk about things. Mamaw was still hanging on, and we surmised that she was holding out for some Thanksgiving turkey. I kept waiting every night for my phone to ring in the middle of the night, but it didn't.

Then Wednesday morning, daddy called and said "we think Mamaw is going." I rushed over and made it in time to see her take her last breath. It was very peaceful and she did not struggle...which to people that love her, we are very thankful. We waited for her kids to get there, and then the funeral home came and got her. The room seemed eerily empty after that...nothing could fill that space. My mom and dad, and my aunt & uncle went to the funeral home later that day to make arrangements. It was going to be a celebration of her life.

Wednesday night when Lisa and her family arrived, we stayed up late and had fun playing with the youngest cousin in our family right now, Jordan, and helping Allison perfect her new "married" signature:





Even Tex got in on the action. Then, we have sort of developed some odd family ritual:




Thursday we did our part of the meal at home before going over to mom and dad's...and the boys enjoyed doing their part. Of course, we had to make the only stuffing Steve will eat which I give him grief over every Thanksgiving.













We enjoyed Thanksgiving with lots of family around. My cousin, Jamie, and I were responsible for carving the turkeys this year and neither of us knew what we were doing...but it was all gone, so I guess we did okay.
















We ate, and ate, and ate...

(Yes, that's an ironing board...and yes, our family is somewhat redneck)

played some football (even the dogs got in on the action)...

watched some football,

had some wheelchair races (only does the Ranch have enough wheelchairs for this!)...

played charades (somehow we always end up playing charades)...

This is how daddy normally looks during charades. He's not really that into it as you can tell.

Friday was a busy day with working on the video for Mamaw's service, working on the bulletin for her service, practicing our songs for the service, and trying to find suitable clothes for my boys to wear...they don't dress up much, so it's a challenge. We went to her viewing as a family around 2, and then all went to lunch together. That was a lot of fun spending some more time with alot of family. Her viewing was Friday night and we had many family and friends attend. She was really loved, and it showed.

Saturday was about the coldest day we've had to date, and the wind was blowing unusually strong that day with gray skies looming overhead. It provided a somber backdrop for her graveside service, and even though I am happy she is in Heaven, I am sad that I will no longer get to see her earthly body here, and that my children will no longer get to be with her.

After the graveside service, the boys asked to see the "hole." This, among other things, is a death mystery for most children and I have always thought the mystery and the thoughts your mind can conjer up is much worse than knowing and seeing the truth, so I knelt down to pull the tarp back to show them the hole and was explaining about it. Before long, I had a crowd of kids (and some adults) gathered round who wanted to see. Then as we were saying goodbye to some friends who had attended, we had a funny conversation about the "mysteries" involving death we have all encountered as children...from thinking we see the dead person breathing to being scared to touch them for fear that they will move. For some reason, I have a memory that my grandfather was in his casket with his eyes open even though I know they would never do that. Weird.

We left the graveside to go to the church for lunch, and then had Mamaw's memorial service. I think it was very sweet, and definitely gave honor to the great lady she was. My mom gave a little bio of her life, and she was so strong to be able to do that...I admire her. Then my sisters and I got to sing with the original "Girls for Christ" group. When my nieces were little girls, they used to write songs and sing them to us when we would get together for holidays. They would giggle all the way through them usually, but we got a great kick out of it. We named them "Girls for Christ", and I even made custom t-shirts for them one Christmas. We still joke about them going on the road in their tour bus...with their t-shirts of course. All the boy cousins want to be their band...they've even picked their parts.

Anyway, the girls really do sing sweet, and we all sang the song "Legacy" which talks about wanting to leave a legacy that people will remember of choosing to love and pointing to Christ enough to make a mark on things...of leaving an offering...and she did. She chose love always...and she left an offering of servitude to others. Dad talked about the woman who anointed Jesus with a very expensive perfume, and Jesus told others she did what she could to show her love for Him. And Mamaw did that...she never sought the limelight but was always willing to work behind the scenes. And then he related her to the Proverbs 31 woman...and her children rise up and call her blessed. I'm always encouraged when I leave a service like that...to be a better person, to love more, to spend more time with family.

Saturday night we went with a group of family to see Four Christmases...and we laughed and laughed. Dysfunctional families are all around us, and we know in our own way, we share some of those traits. And it's good to laugh about it.

What a great way to spend Thanksgiving...giving thanks for one of the sweetest persons I've known and giving thanks for family.

On Sunday, mom wanted her picture made with the sons-in-law. They gave their best "JC Penney Catalog" pose.

And this just proves how very redneck we actually are. Cody made a kite to fly...out of a garbage bag.