La Française et Quelque Chose Bonne!

YAY!!!! Joe FINALLY has his license! I am super happy about that if you can't tell. Now he can run errands and drive Anna to work! I'll have two more days of uninterrupted study-time!

I had my midterm today. Je sentir très bonne environ le midterm. Yesterday l'après-midi je étudie beaucoup et en le soir. Je ne étudie pas Wendy's anymore. Un homme marié il donnez-moi téléphone nombre. Pourquoi? Je ne sais pas. Il faire sentir moi très malade. Il est malade homme.

It is getting easier. I noticed yesterday when j'étudie everything was much clearer and I was able to comprendre beaucoup plus. Je vais vraiment bien avec elle.

I can write more too! Well, it's a lot easier anyways. I wonder if anything I've written makes sense if you put into a translator...?

Je vais gym et alors à étudie. Au revoir mes aimes! Bonne jonnée.

Bed or French? Read to See Who Wins!

My kind of gas prices! I'm sure they were just out of gas, but it looked funny!

So after reading my last blog I saw some things I'd written in French that was very clearly incorrect! Instead of saying I study (étudie) le française I said I listen (écoute). Yeah, well, I do that too, but that's not what I was trying to say. :)

I'm about to study (étudie) le française right now. I feel like I have a lot of work to do before Tuesday and I won't sleep well if I don't do something tonight. I literally spent all day today working on my Current Event's project for Sociology. I have to find 10 articles, summarize them, write my opinion, and then apply them to Sociology. I am pretty happy with the articles I have right now. I've completed four and have three more on their way to being complete!

I'm getting tired. I was up late last night. But I slept till after 9am. I was shocked. I haven't slept that long in forever! I'm always up by 6:30 at the latest. I plan on being up bright and early tomorrow though. As I said I have a lot of work to do.

Do you ever feel like you can't write stuff on your blog because someone might read it?! I feel that way sometimes. I need to buy a journal! But I'm broke. Actually I'm not. I just remembered I have money. I'm just not spending it. I'm saving for Toccoa. I get to visit with Bethany! I'm so excited! I haven't seen her since Christmas break. RG and I are going up there for TFC's Evangelical Conference. Both he and Bethany are presenting papers. I'm so proud of them. But they are presenting them at the same time! How crazy is that?! Any advice as to what I should do? I want to listen to both of them... Bethany said she didn't care who I chose, but I have a feeling she truly does. Dad said I should listen to half each. I would just hate to disrupt by leaving in the middle of one and then coming in to the other. I don't know what I'm going to do.

I'm off to bed. I'm trying not to fall asleep now. But I really need to do some French. So I'll get some coffee and stay up! Good night.

J'adore le française!

I have midterms next week... in le française. Je déteste le midterms. Je ne sais pas. J'aime peut-être midterms.

I'm pretty sure I just said "the French. I detest (hate) the midterms. I don't know. Perhaps I will like midterms."

haha! I could be so wrong!!! lol! Anyways....! :) Classes are going well. I am pretty sure in all of my classes, except French, I'm making A's and B's. I'm so happy with that. French feels like the thorn in my flesh! Probably because I don't study as much as I should and I realize this. It's just so hard. I need a quiet place I can talk out-loud, but yet not look crazy! I have such a hard time écoute le française. It's not that the work is hard; it's time consuming and I can't seem to find the time to study beyond Wednesday nights when my family is gone. Once a week is not enough! Trust me. I've got to find another place besides Wendy's and my home to study.
I had been doing some work at RG's, mais je feel in the way and I don't want to bother him. You know what that verse in Proverbs says (Proverbs 25:17). Je ne vouloir pas certainement arrive (I surely don't want that to happen).
I'm trying to use what un peu français I can if you can't tell. I'm hoping it will help me... :/

I am in the midst of drawing a Marine. Il est regarde bon (he looks good). I can't decide if his head is too petit. J'adore il (I adore him. J'aime drawing too. I plan to keep it up and to keep drawing, painting, etc as much as possible. I want some charcoal. It would be awesome to draw my Marine in charcoal.

I am finally sore from working out at the gym. I don't know if it's because I've started jogging (rather a slow run! haha!) and doing weights, but I feel very sore and my clothes are starting to be un peu grande. Je suis passionnante environ grande clothes! (I'm excited about big clothes!)

J'aime blogging in le française. It's fun actually. It does take a bit more time though. Which I don't really have. But this has been really good.

I have a Pampered Chef show this Thursday. I'm un peu nervous. Je ne sais pas any of these une femmes. It should be good though. I have at least one show scheduled for March, with the possibility of a second one. I'm really hoping I get some shows from this Thursday. That would a huge blessing! Especially since I am as broke as a college student can get! Yeah, anyways. I would appreciate the prayers.

Je suis peut-être recevoir moi anglais essay le matin. Je suis vraiment passionnante!
(I am, perhaps, to receive my English essay in the morning. I am really excited.)
I truly cannot wait to get it back. Besides the fact that I don't have another copy of it, I just want to know what moi un professeur thought about it and I really want to know what my grade is! I'm terrible, I know.

I need to get ready for bed. Je suis assez fatigueé. (I'm rather tired.) Merci beaucoup for letting moi blog partly in le française. I hope you could understand what I didn't translate! I'm not checking my spelling. Do you know how many things I will have wrong?! Beaucoup! I might do this from now on though. I really think it will help. Hopefully one day I will be able to write an entire blog in le française. And if even if you can't speak le française, you just might be able to read it! haha! Wow. I crack myself up! Bonsoir. Au revoir.

SleepyHead!

I am so tired. But I want to write a blog very badly. I don't know why, but I do. So here I am.

I'm supposed to get up early tomorrow and go to the gym, but I don't think I'm going to do that. I'm going to get up at about 7am and take a shower and then get my siblings up so we can all go get our hair trimmed! I love my stylist. This place is amazing. They wash your hair, seat you in fancy, fun chairs and then are crazy funny while cutting your hair. I love them. There are about 5-7 different ladies working at this place and so far I've used two of them and they are simply incredible.

Then I have to come home and bake. Some friends and I are playing Capture the Flag at RG's camp-house and I said I'd make cookies. I'm wondering if that was such a good idea! Especially since last time I made cookies (a little over a week ago) I forgot to put the eggs in and I was standing over the stove stirring my "dough" thinking, "What is wrong with this stuff?! It's not supposed to look like that.". Clearly I haven't been doing much baking!

I'm thinking about - whatever I was just going to say I've completely forgotten. That's my sign to go to bed. haha. Goodnight!

Master of.... Exhaustion, Masking, and Losing

Yep. That would be me. I am constantly tired thus the Master of Exhaustion. I don't get enough sleep, I run ALL day every day. I feel like my week ran into my weekend which then ran into my week and I didn't even have a break last weekend.

Whether it's family, college, Pampered Chef, trying to have a social life, etc, I can't seem to find enough time to be still. To rest. To pause life and forget about everything. I don't even do that in my sleep. I woke up last night at 4:30am thinking it was time for school. I went back to bed!

I'm tired of playing the balancing game and I'm so ready to drop something, but I can't drop any of it. It's all too important to me and my future. I'm not trying to sound like a whiny baby I just to release and right now my blog is a form of release.

I'm trying to read the Word every day. I'm doing better. My Sunday School teacher challenged me to pray every day for 40 days that God would show me He loves me. I know He does, but right now I feel so weak and used, I just need to hear Him say it or to show me. I've been looking and listening.

I love the moon. With a passion. I think it is the most amazing, awesome, incredible thing ever. It's round with dents and craters; it's not perfect. Sometimes it's orange or red; other nights it's silver and gray and just plain beautiful. I love the moon. This morning I was about to turn out of my driveway and I looked down the opposite road and guess what I saw? All big, bright and orange? The moon. I almost started crying. It was a gift of love from my Father Love.

It's almost that time... and I haven't been this emotional in a lllllooooonnnnnnggggggg time. I cry over everything. It's irritating and I am so ready to have a big cry and be over with it!

You called. You made me cry. I think you are slowly breaking my heart. I hope you don't read my blog. :)

I've realized that I am the Master of Masking... my emotions. I won't even realize I'm feeling a certain way until I'm at the breaking point. It's horrible and I'm not sure how to deal with it. You know, how to stop masking and starting dealing with my emotions. Writing my essay and then dealing with my grandfather's funeral made me come face to face with this realization. The week leading up to Pop-Pop's funeral I felt nothing. Friday, two hours before the visitation, I was about to completely lose it. I was trying not to cry and it wasn't really working.
Then reading my essay I remembered where I've been and what has happened in my past that has made me the Master of Masking. You try being strong for everyone you (family, close friends and also not so close friends) know for 6 plus years and you will become a Master of Masking too. I'm tired of masking and I'm a bit tired of being strong.

I lost everything I've worked on today. College papers, speeches, study guides, Pampered Chef downloads, and so much more. I had a virus on my computer and the Tech guys said since my computer wasn't responding to anything I needed to restore my drive to where it was when I received the computer. Back to nothing. I was crushed. I couldn't believe it. I was already feeling weight of the world and this did not help. And wouldn't you know as soon as it was over my brothers said, I could have saved your stuff to my portable hard drive (or whatever it is).
So I guess I'm not really a Master of Losing. I just feel like one.

I'm going to bed in about 40 minutes. I've re-written my speech for Thursday (that was one of the things I'd lost!). Now I just have about 5 study guides to rewrite. I really want to ask my English Prof for copies of my essay because the only one I have is here on my blog. I want my drafts and everything.

Oh, have I told you lately that I seriously love Andy Merrick's blog? http://blog.andymerrick.com/ He is my ray of sunshine on these very cloudy days. He's so funny and I definitely need the laughs. I'm praising God for that man right now. Pray for Andy. It's his last couple days at work and then he is writing full-time! I'm so excited for him. I can't wait for his first book! It's going to be about relationships. I could use a good book on relationships right now.
Speaking of relationships, you should check out Dave Barnes new EP. I purchased it from iTunes and I love it. My favorite is Until You. I've heard the song before but now it's a love song from my Savior. I'm digging it.
Another related topic. My purity ring. I've started wearing it on my right ring finger. RG told me that until a year or so ago he didn't even know there were two separate rings for the girl (engagement ring and wedding band). I made me think that maybe guys avoid me because I've been wearing it on my left finger and they don't know if I'm in a relationship or not. I don't know if I could handle a relationship right now, but it is one of my deepest desires to be married and I don't want to scare the right guy by having a ring on my left ring finger. Am I crazy?!

I need to brush my teeth (I got a new toothbrush yesterday!) and then go to bed. After I print and practice my speech on my family! Don't let me forget to write the full-sentence outline tomorrow.

Good night friends. Sorry this is so long.

The Last Twenty-Four Hours

I said I would post my Narrative Descriptive Essay a long time ago. But I never got around to it. I've done a lot of editing and re-writing and having good ol' Dad read over it a million and one times. I'm finally done. So here it is. Let me know if you see any mistakes or if something is unclear, etc. But do it before Sunday evening. I have to turn this in Monday morning.
Oh, it is long, but I think it's worth the read!

The Last Twenty-Four Hours

“Hello.”
“Lydia. Your mom fell and I’m taking her to the hospital.” I had been on the receiving end of this type of phone call many times, but my Dad’s voice sounded different and I felt a shiver of fear.
“Okay. Do I need to call Bethany?”
“No, not right now. Let me get her to the hospital and see what’s wrong. Send Caleb home.”
We ended the conversation shortly after that and I began to pray nonstop. Something was very wrong. I went to look for my eighteen year old brother at our church’s yearly “Hallelujah Festival”. The day and my thoughts had been clear and sunny until now.
For as much as possible my parents tried to make sure life was as normal as it could be for my siblings and I. That was a hard task with a Mom that had spent the last six years in and out of the hospital with cancer. Normal was what we were trying to achieve that morning as we gave Mom a hug and told her goodbye as she laid in her bed too sick to go to the festival. My mind was racing with what should be done; should I tell my siblings or just let them go about their day enjoying it as much as possible?
“Caleb, something is wrong with Mom and Dad needs you at home right now.” His face instantly changed from happy-go-lucky to worry and dread. We knew better than to ask questions and he left at once.
I turned to find my siblings because my parents had always been very honest with us concerning Mom’s health and I wasn’t going to let this time be any different. I remember the wind blowing and the smell of pine as I walked slowly to gather my younger siblings. It was a beautiful Saturday that would be forever seared in my mind as painful and the start of the worst twenty-four hours of my life.
I was fourteen when my Mom, at the age of forty-one, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. My older sister Bethany and I took over running the house at that time because Mom couldn’t do it and Dad had to work to support us. In the years that followed the housework, cooking and even caring for Mom became easier as I grew used to it. But sometimes round the clock care of Mom and making sure my younger siblings had clean clothes, food on the table, schoolwork completed, and chores worked on was too much. During those years I came to heavily depend on hour or longer walks to clear my mind, refresh my soul and renew my strength to finish the day.
Life became much harder when Bethany finally made it to college. I was eighteen; working at a pharmacy as a cashier and then going home to help with cooking, cleaning and siblings. That was a good year for Mom and she didn’t require much care other than driving her to and from chemo.
We moved a year later and life took another nose-dive. Four months after we moved Mom developed a brain tumor. Emergency surgery produced another scary phone call, and a fast and furious drive to the hospital. When she came home, she couldn’t see well enough to read; she couldn’t do most anything by herself. I quit my job and came home fulltime to take care of my family. I thought at that point life couldn’t get any worse and that I couldn’t take on any more. I was so wrong.
After telling my siblings and talking with our pastor, Brother Freddie, I just wandered around in a daze trying to make sense of what was happening. Brother Freddie told me that Mom had fallen and hit her head on or near the fireplace. I called Bethany but told her not to come home yet.
I don’t remember if I was at home or still at the church when Dad called to tell me to gather the kids and bring them to the hospital so they could see Mom. But I do remember Caleb had come to wherever we were and he was in a frenzy because of Mom’s behavior. He wouldn’t stop wailing. I was trying comfort him and make sure my other siblings didn’t start to freak out on me as well.
“She didn’t remember me! She doesn’t know who I am! She didn’t know my name! She asked me who I was!” He kept crying over and over like a broken record player. We drove in awkward silence to the hospital with his whimpers haunting our imaginations. We walked into the emergency room lobby and it felt like half of our church was there. Someone told the hospital staff we were related to Sybol Allen and without delay we were ushered through a huge off-white door into a spotless hallway. Nurses were dashing about like I’d never seen. We walked into an icy room and there was my Dad sitting next to a person that looked sort of like my Mom. He was holding her hand. His eyes were red from tears. I looked at him and then at my beautiful Mom. Her eyes were closed so I couldn’t see the blue color that was just like my own. Her skin was pale and bruised; her freckles making it even worse. She was still like death had already come. I felt tears swell up in my eyes, but somehow I held them at bay. This lifeless, pale creature was not my mother. My mother always had a smile; always looked like she was going to take over the world; and no matter what was going on she would always take your hand and tell you everything was going to be okay. This person’s face didn’t light up as we walked through the door as though we were the life of her world; this person didn’t stretch out loving arms for a hug even if we’d seen her five minutes ago; this person was not my Mom, I thought. It looks like her, but it’s not her.
“You can talk to her.” I looked up from staring at my Mom to see a doctor had come into the room, his white lab coat was about the same color of my mom‘s skin and it gave me a headache. He began to talk to my Dad about taking her off some medicine to see what exactly was going on; something about pain meds and maybe it really wasn’t her head. The next thing I know that small hospital room began shrinking in size as my Mom started thrashing with seizures, her arms flailing about, and her body jerking out of control. Then she began screaming as though the devil himself was chasing her. My eyes widened in fear. I whipped my head around to look at my Dad and I told him I was leaving. This was it I whispered to myself as I ran from the room.
I tried holding back tears to be strong for my siblings but I’d never seen anything like that before and I was more than scared. They were balling and I couldn’t do anything to soften what was going on. I was beyond helpless.
The next thing I remember is pumping gas and telling my siblings as we prepared to travel to Albany, Georgia, that no matter what happens God was in control. It seemed to comfort them as I began to drive the hour and a half to Phoebe Putney Hospital where Mom’s doctor practiced but I felt little peace. I was beginning to think that maybe unlike the past six years, maybe she wouldn’t beat this, maybe she wouldn’t come home. I kept these thoughts to myself and tried not to cry.
The eight of us kids stayed awake in the waiting room all night long. We knew at this point that we were just waiting for her to die. That night wasn’t as painful. I’m not sure why, but it wasn’t. Maybe it was because we were all together. Bethany had come at some point during the night and we were all enjoying each other and probably trying to block out what was coming.
The next morning, people from all over South Georgia began to show up at the hospital. People from our church, friends from home school groups, friends from other towns and old churches. It was comforting, but yet weird that we were all waiting in this hospital lobby for my Mom to die. I just tried to ignore these overwhelming feelings and pretend I was okay not only for my siblings, but for the people who were more distraught than I. I remember people trying to comfort me, but I would end up comforting them.
“Mom just loved you; she would appreciate you being here.”, “You brought such joy to my Mom. Thanks for being such a great friend to her” or explaining what had happened. And then when all had fallen silent, the stares began. Eyes that held dread, fear, wonder at what would happen to us, sadness and pain bore holes into us or wall nearest to us. All of these emotions that I didn’t want to deal with myself. I’m not sure if they were waiting for us to break down and fall apart or what but I had too much pride and there were too many “friendly” strangers for me to cry in front of.
The earlier experience of seeing Mom have a seizure had terrified all of us and some of the younger ones refused to go into her hospital room where Dad ever faithful was by her side. I know this confused and perhaps even hurt Dad, but I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t even want to go into that room, but I did because I knew it was expected of me. I walked in, gave Dad a hug, and stared at my Mom. She was still very pale and sick-looking, but her face was peaceful and she was quiet. As much as the nurses and Dad encouraged us to talk to her I couldn’t say anything, words wouldn’t form in my brain so I left to hide in the bathroom as I cried.
A few hours into the day we were called back into her room to say our last goodbye. I don’t remember if we all went in at this point or not, but once again I was walking down a long white hospital hallway and I felt like my world was ending. We were almost to the door of her room when I saw a man sitting at desk and recognized Mom’s doctor. He was crying.
We “visited” with mom and then left before they pulled the plug that was keeping her heart beating; she was nothing more than a fleshly figure living not of her own breath or strength but through a machine.
She was always trying to show and tell us she was fine. But her stubbornness caused her to lose her footing. She fell hitting her head which caused bleeding in her brain and she didn’t have a chance after that.
We were taken to a private room and we all cried and talked about what to do when we went out to the lobby. The pain was severe as we walked through those double doors to face that huge crowd of people who loved my Mom. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want anyone touching me. I was kind of mad at all of those people. I just wanted to be alone.
We walked through those clean, white halls and doors once more to face a sea of eyes full of pity. I think I had controlled some of my tears at that point, but I remember Micah my youngest brother clinging to me, crying nonstop, refusing to let anyone come near him. I took him from the waiting room to sit in the van. As we sat there together, his tears never ceasing, I looked at this nine year old child who would grow up without a mom, having no memories except for those of her being sick and worse still barely even remembering her at all. My life changed drastically at that moment.
I never thought I’d have to put aside my dreams, goals and plans for the future to help my family. But at the age of twenty I put all of that on the backburner of my life because I had six younger siblings who needed me more. I would become their mother figure. I would take care of them for as long as I was needed.
I hope and pray I’ve made my Mom proud. I hope she approves of the way her children have turned out and I pray my siblings don’t forget who she was and how she lived life to the fullest.

Super Bowl or Not

I don't understand what is so special about the Super Bowl. Well, football for that matter. I can't stand football. It's boring. Who wants to watch a bunch of overgrown kids tackle each other? Not me.

I'm getting pretty excited about my Pampered Chef parties this week. If you aren't coming you are missing out! I'm so happy to be having some of my favorite people over at my house to hang out. Not to mention I love cooking for people so this is going to be perfect.

I need to make a list of everything I need to do tomorrow. My day is going to be soooooo long and crazy busy I don't even really want to think about it. But if I don't make a list I won't get half of what I need done completed and that will stress me out.

You should see my room right now. Actually, no, you shouldn't. It's a huge mess. My desk looks like a tornado went through it. I have piles of paper, pens, money, a french press and more on it and around it on the floor. I need to clean.

But not tonight. I'm about to go to bed. After I brush my teeth and make a list. Which is what I'm going to do now.