Whatever happened to Chuck?

Remember when Richie Cunningham (Ron Howard) left "Happy Days" after Season 6 and the show was never the same again? I know you do. No matter how they tried, or who they added to their cast (i.e. Roger, Mrs. C's nephew...he was good looking...but he didn't have Richie's boyish charm), they never regained their footing as a seasoned staple on ABC. Without those key personalities you connected with from week to week (even Ralph Malph disappeared), it just wasn't that interesting to watch. Sometimes it was even painful.

That is kind of how I feel right now watching "American Idol." Last night's episode with Neil Diamond was a snoozer....and the only excitement of the evening was Paula Abdul's upstaging the "real entertainment" of the show (the idols themselves), by confusing how many times Jason Castro really sang. Some of your most notable personalities are now gone off the show....the ones that added so much color to the competition week after week. Although they may not have been my most favs (Amanda, Chekezie, Michael, and now Carly), I still enjoyed seeing them perform. They brought flavor to the show. Now instead of having Baskin Robbin's 31 Flavors on Idol, it seems like we are limited to McDonald's Vanilla only ice cream. Although McDonald's tries to disguise their vanilla by putting it in sundaes, shakes, smoothies, etc., it is still vanilla no matter how you mix it. Now that the list has been narrowed down to the Final 4 (just said goodbye to Brooke), the "taste" of the show is so bland. Can somebody say, "Amen?"

Maybe this happens every year at this time and I have just forgotten. But I miss some of the "friends" we have made along the way in watching AI this year. We have a lot of fun as a family predicting who we think will win....who we think will get voted off, etc. Lately, you will see a lot of internet buzz about the show losing its "people power".....meaning that its viewership is slowly dwindling. Maybe AI is running its course just like Happy Days did.

Not so "hill-arious" with me

Hillary Clinton and I have something in common. Without much warning, speculation, or fanfare from the media (not even analysis from Tim Russert on "Meet the Press") my poll numbers with my progeny are beginning to take a nose dive at the Hesterhouse. Once I was well-revered, loved, hugged, respected, obeyed, and cherished by our girls just as much as my husband. But things are beginning to change and I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. Lately, Gregg is all but overthrowing me with landslide victories in the "Parental Primaries." That is to say that the days of "momma knows best" have inadvertently been replaced by "Daddy knows more and he knows better."




I've told Gregg about my poll numbers sliding, and he, like Obama, is well aware of his lead. But he differs with Obama in the sense that he feels badly about my plunging "likability factor." He tries to make me feel better. He says it has something to do with the "mother/daughter, same gender, same birth order, entering the teenage years, blah blah blah" stuff. I hear what he is saying, and it has all sorts of validity behind it. But it doesn't help me out. It doesn't help me feel better. And with every talk I have with my girls that is beyond the superficial and hoping to make a long lasting impact, I know that he can do it better, and that it would go a lot further if it were coming from him. I feel doomed in the sense that due to my gender, I am predisposed to having conflict with my daughters.....when my husband will slide by unscathed because they believe with all of their adolescent beings that he "hung the moon." And quite honestly, I know he has.





Please understand me. It has been one of the biggest desires of my heart as a mother to see my girls love their daddy with such an incredible intensity and have him return that love back to them 10 fold. I have received unimaginable joy over the years, as I have watched them interact and grow in their relationship with one another. To a fault, I have probably over emphasized their daddy/daughter relationship and put the importance of mine on the back burner. I have just so desperately wanted my girls to have a special, unique connection with their daddy, as I know how important the foundation of that will be in the years to come. I know how essential their loving relationship with him will be in who they will date, how they will date, who they will chose to marry, and most importantly how they view the love of their Heavenly Father. There is a lot a stake in this daddy/daughter relationship, but I must not dismiss my "God-given" contributions to their lives as well.





So, I am riding this one out in hopes that I might earn some unexpected votes along the way. That something I say, something I do, might pull me out of this slump. Maybe if I cry in front of a group of women sitting around a table, that might help.....or maybe if I say I was in the midst of sniper fire in Bosnia, that might create some credibility with my girls. Or maybe if I share a beer with some Pennsylvanians and talk about how I shot rifles when I was a young girl...that would earn me some votes with them. Or maybe it simply boils down to my need for Superdelegates. I don't know exactly what the outcome will be.....but I will declare myself a winner now.....regardless of how the "convention" turns out. Now hear this!!! I am not a quitter. I won't give up. I am not going down without a fight. Where is Michigan and Florida when I need them?

Who let the dogs out?

Sometimes the "big dogs" of discipline need to be let out at the Hesterhouse.....that is, when the level of correction must be increased due to the weight of the offense at hand. The "big dogs" are released because the minor "day to day" methods of discipline just aren't going to "cut it" in this particular case. I let out the "big dogs" when I don't have the brain capacity to come up with the "antidote" necessary for the offense. The alleged "wrong-doing" needs something extra powerful to pack a lasting punch so the "perp" knows loud and clear there is a problem...... and that problem, Houston, must be resolved with discipline.

There are two tactics I use when bringing out the "big dogs.":

1) I pray. The closer I get to parenting smack dab in the teen years, the more and more I realize how critical it is that I have God's wisdom, insight, patience, strength, endurance, etc. to make it through. I just don't have the natural ability to do this without Him. I have no choice but to rely solely on Him. It is the most strategic move I can make. Plus, it just has the added benefit of drawing me close to Him.

2) Because I don't have the innovation it takes to have the punishment effectively fit the crime, I depend on Lisa Whelchel's Creative Correction to get my discipline juices flowing. This book has been the most meaningful parenting book to me in addition to the Bible, and I honestly don't know what I would have done without it. I think God has used it greatly in my life.

Well, the "dogs" are yelping right now, and I must get back to parenting. Pray for me.....I'll pray for you. And with God holding our hearts, our hands, and our heads, we are certain to be victorious in this battle.

Thirteen Years ago today......

I think every generation unfortunately has their own "JFK" moment.

(Defined: A moment in history that shocks, saddens, and leaves a large group of people forever changed..in this case, an entire country.)

I remember listening to my mom share where she was and what she was doing the moment she learned that JFK had been shot. Her words painted a picture of an event that is deeply etched in the minds of the people who lived through it. Before our own "JFK" moment as a country on September 11, 2001, I can remember exactly where I was, and what I was doing at 9:02 am on April 19, 1995. It is a date that will be forever engraved in my mind. I stood before my 5th grade class, in Edmond Oklahoma, getting ready to begin our second day of standardized testing, which most schools administer during the Spring. It was a beautiful day....the sun shining gloriously through the one window in our classroom. Keeping the kids focused on this day would be difficult. Thoughts of summer break were already streaming through their heads, but we were making the most of our time by getting started on the test right away. Standardized testing was taken very seriously. The entire school had begun their testing promptly that morning, and there was a unified silence that enveloped the school.

I stood at the podium of my classroom, six months pregnant with our first baby. I looked out at "my kids" who were working diligently on the first phase of their test, and beamed with pride. I loved them all like they were my own. I hadn't experienced motherhood yet, so my heart was sold out exclusively to my students. Going to work each day was a pleasure for me. It was my lifelong dream to be a teacher and I poured everything into it.

Because of the strict schedule we were under as a school, we were not allowed to let students enter and exit our classrooms for any reason during our times of testing. There would be designated breaks for a snack and bathroom stop, but otherwise, there would be no one allowed in the hallways in order to keep disruption to a minimum. I looked down at my schedule to take note of when our first break would be. The kids would be testing until 10:30am. I would be transporting them to their Special at that time (Music), and we would be sure to hit the bathrooms on the way there.

As I turned the page of my testing booklet, I felt my classroom shake. It startled me and I looked up at my kids to see if they had felt it as well. I was met with 18 quizzical sets of eyes starring back at me. We were all wondering what that rumbling was. I didn't want to lose the atmosphere in my room. I told them to carry on with their testing, and I went to the door. I opened it in hopes of finding someone who could explain to me what we felt. There was no one there. The hallway was completely empty. We returned to our testing, and for the next hour and a half, had no idea what horrific news we would be learning in the minutes to come.

I went back to what I was doing, all the while trying to figure out the reason behind the tremor we felt. Were there workers on the roof and they dropped something of enormous weight on top of our classroom? Was it a sonic boom? Was it an earthquake? I was dumbfounded. When 10:30 finally rolled around, our morning testing was complete, and the kids lined up at the door. As I ushered them out of the classroom, I noticed teachers in the hallway, huddled together, hugging one another and crying. My heart began to beat rapidly as I couldn't imagine what news was causing this type of reaction of our staff. Did something happen to one of our students....one of our teachers?

I approached one of them and asked them what had happened. A fellow teacher through tears explained that there had been an explosion downtown in Oklahoma City (20 miles south of our school) and there were a number of deaths. (At that point, we did not know the magnitude of the explosion and the news was sketchy. We thought it was an accident and had no idea that it was an evil act.) Teachers were extremely concerned about our students, because many of their parents worked downtown. As the news spread, frantic parents came to pick up their children...needing desperately to be with them. I would understand that need when I became a mother myself, but at that time, my baby was safe in the womb, and I had no parental worries. By the afternoon, I only had a handful of students left in my classroom.

I wanted to go home so badly, but I needed to be there for my students. As a staff, we had to appear confident, and not anxious, so the students would remain calm. I wanted desperately to see Gregg, but I learned that he was under lock down at Tinker AFB in OKC, and did not know when he would be allowed to return home. At 3:15, the bell rang, and with a meaningful hug, I let my remaining students out the door. I drove to the safety of my home, and turned on the tv, seeing the shocking images for the first time with my own eyes. It was too much to bear. My stomach turned in reaction to what I was viewing. In my naivety, I thought to myself, "This kind of stuff only happens in the Middle East." At that time, the country did not know it was "one of our own" that chose to commit such an unspeakable act.

And then in all of the abhorrence, God made Himself known. He used the great spirit of the people of Oklahoma to pour themselves sacrificially into the situation. They gave of their time, their resources, their blood, to assist and minister to the pain in anyway they could. They got creative, they joined together, they wept, they prayed, and in the end, they showed a country what it meant to give yourself away for the sake of your neighbor. We did not know at the time that we would need the example they set when 6 years later, we would experience as a country what Oklahoma City did, although on a much grander scale.

I have shared too long....and I would be amazed if you are still reading after all of this. But this memory is part of who I am as a person. It is a piece of my history as an American and as a Christ-follower. Because you couldn't live through something that horrific and not see God throughout, making Himself illuminate greater than all the evil that was cast upon OKC that day. There are many things I have taken with me, when I left that state of "red clay" now 7 years ago. Too many to list here. But I will say that I have been permanently branded or marked, if you will, by the culture of that community of people. They are sacrificial givers and they were long before April 19, 1995. They bravely and faithfully rose to the enormous task of caring for the needs of their people in the shadow of such wickedness and they asked God for the strength to do it. He answered it then, and He continues to do so.

Early signs of flying the coop

It doesn't seem that long ago when Gregg and I "ached" for time alone with each other. Having one date night together took months to plan, and having time to just talk with one another was near impossible. There were books to read, baths to give, diapers to change, toys to pick up, meals to prepare, laundry to fold. The season of the girls needed every moment of our time was just yesterday I think, and now things seem to be gradually changing. For instance, last night the girls were both gone with friends, which just left Gregg and I fending for ourselves for dinner. As we sat across the table from one another, we looked sadly at the two empty spaces usually filled by our babies fighting for the air space to tell us about their day. Common phrases like these normally fill our dinner time hour:

"Let me talk!!"



"No....you have been talking too long...it's my turn."



"Stop interrupting me! I want to talk."




Things were so silent at the table, it seemed strange. I could have tried arguing for a turn to talk with Gregg, but he wouldn't have put up too much of a fight, I'm afraid. So, we chatted back and forth as much as we could, but in the back of our minds, I think we both were wondering, "How are we going to do this? How is it going to be just us again?" He says that he is looking forward to it in some ways. This is nothing against him whatsoever, but I am not sure I feel the same. Our lives became so wonderfully colorful when they entered the world. How can we go from two to four, and then back to two again? Yet, they cannot and should not remain with us forever....as much as I think I want them to. This gradual plan of flight I am grateful for, because I could not take a sudden departure from the nest. God is good in His design of everything, but especially in knowing that our mother hearts couldn't withstand such a rapid fraying of the apron strings.

Pass the Cascade, please.

This post is dedicated to my friend, Kim, who ALWAYS gets a "kick" out of my hair. I can see her smiling now!

It is also dedicated to my friend Lisa, who makes me die in laughter when she uses the word "coiffure" in a sentence.

And lastly, this is dedicated to my friend Susan, who understands my pain when it comes to hair. Except that she is talented with a pair of scissors, and alas, I am not. (Thus the large VISA bill and complaints from Husband #1 on why his haircuts cost $8 and mine cost......)

I spend a lot of time getting ready in the morning. Too much, really. I don't have "low maintenance" hair, and I don't have a "wash and go" complexion. Being the Hestermomma takes a lot of intentionality, and even with all that work....there are no guarantees. "You get what you get," if you know what I mean.

I have been pondering the "God-given" hours of my day, and how I use them. If God has ordained me with just so many earthly days, what I am doing with them? Am I using them according to His will, or am I wasting time with things that don't matter beyond today? (Like my hair....oh no, please!! Anything but the hair!) I think approaching "40" will prompt those types of questions out of you. (Sorry. I know you are tired of hearing about my age. But seriously, even if God allows me 80 yrs, I am already 1/2 way done. Do the math!)

So, in doing some reading yesterday, (finally finished "Looking for God" by Nancy Ortberg ), I noticed she quoted words of Jesus that have never made my radar before.

First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean. Matthew 23:26

I really like this!! This is hitting home to me. It is just as important, if not more so, to work on the inside of me, than it is in maintaining the outside. The purity or cleanliness of my heart will reflect upon the outside of me as well. Probably a "no-brainer" for you....but for me, it was a "hair-raising" moment....in a good sense. Maybe if I work more on the inside, my hours with the flat-iron will be a thing of the past. Hmmm....I need to ponder that further. :)

Stop it!!!! Stop it!!!!

I laugh at this one every time. In my continuous efforts to support my official "Keeping it real" blog guarantee, I will admit that sometimes I am the one in the middle.....and sometimes I am the one on the right. Of course, my hair NEVER looks like that. BEEP!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!! Violation of blog guarantee now taking place. OK...Well, maybe in the morning...sometimes.