Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer

I really love this time of year. The day after Thanksgiving is when I really start getting into the Christmas spirit. I have the Christmas music going, I am buying Christmas gifts. I love the Christmas lights, I love the sounds of the bell ringers outside the stores. It all signifies the Christmas season. It makes me happy, so happy in fact that I just want to run down the street yelling Merry Christmas at everyone. Christmas makes me want to burst with excitement.

Obviously, it's my favorite holiday. I love Christmas and it just makes me feel warm and comfortable. I was talking to my niece today, and we both agreed that although this is a great time of year, we miss grandma more on the holidays. Christmas was the holiday where my grandma went all out. And to be honest, it drove me crazy. I hated how much she decorated for Christmas. She really went overboard. From her snow flocked tree, her numerous ornaments, her Christmas dolls that went above the mantle, the putting up the lights in the coldest of weather, the Christmas presents. She rocked the good ol' Christmas sweaters/sweatshirts and occasionally would even rock a Christmas turtleneck under those shirts. She wore Christmas pins and let's not forget Christmas earrings/necklaces. She would manage to wrap my presents right in front of me and I would be so involved in the present she had instructed me to wrap, that I never saw what she had wrapped for me. She would hand me the present and tell me to put it under the tree. I would always get mad that the present was for me and I didn't see her wrap it. No matter how old we got, Santa still brought us presents. She baked goodies for all kinds of people and always bought a huge box of chocolates for our bank. It's all stuff I despised growing up, because I was the one who had to help.

But now, all things Christmas remind me of my grandma. It makes me miss her so much. Before she passed, she had this reindeer that when you pressed his hand, he sang "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer". She loved that stupid thing and that was her favorite song. I, however, hated that reindeer! It drove me crazy. Nine years after she's passed, I still have that reindeer and it still works. It has become my favorite Christmas item that I have. I take it out every year and just sit down and play the song a few times. It bobs it's head while singing and I smile to myself because it reminds me of how much my grandmother loved it. I can still see her smile and hear her laugh as she plays it.

Holidays are not easy on me due to her passing. Since she's died, I've had numerous Christmases. But they've never been the same that they were before she died. I feel so out of sorts this time of year, no matter how much I celebrate, it's not the same as when Gram was alive. I have friends and family, but I feel so alone this time of year. When my grandma was alive, she conquered the world (or at least the state of Indiana). She was everything to me and she was the glue that held our family together. Nobody can do Christmas like Grandma did, nobody.

I want things to be like they used to be, but I know that's not possible. She's gone, our family has changed so much. We've all started new celebrations, new traditions. And if we were to all get together right now, I can guarantee chaos will soon follow. I wish it wasn't true, but it is. We all fell apart when she died and we haven't been able to pull it back together.

I keep my grandma's spirit alive at Christmas as much as I can, all I really have to hold onto is that reindeer and lots of great memories.

I do it to plant the seed

Every Saturday, I work with Preschoolers at church. I generally work with the three year olds, but sometimes I am needed in the 4's or 5's. But, three year olds have a special place in my heart. Every weekend, when the last kid is picked up, I breathe a huge sigh of relief and slide into my car literally EXHAUSTED.

Seriously, those kids know how to wear someone out. Comfy clothing is a major requirement and NOT playing with them on the floor is not an option. You definitely need to play with them on the floor.

They run, they scream, they throw things, they dip their Goldfish and Animal Cookies in water, they eat glue, and break every single crayon. They somehow miss the toilet (boy or girl) and pee all over the floor. Instead of washing their hands in the sink, they sometimes wash them in the toilet. They love gummi bears, they share for the most part, they generally can't sit through the lesson, they love the Legos and Play-Dough.

They are three year olds. And man, oh man, do I love them so. Although I wrote they generally don't sit through lesson, I am always surprised when they do listen and they get the story we are telling them. I remember at one of the Easter services, we told the kids about why we celebrate Easter. I really struggled with this lesson, we had to simplify the lesson as much as possible for the three year olds. We had resurrection eggs and each one represented something. We also had a cave that had Jesus in it, but then we was gone. I really didn't think they got the lesson, but a few months later, I worked with a mom of one of my kids. She explained to me about her daughter re-telling the lesson to her and how she used her hands to retell the Easter story I had told her months earlier.

This three year old got it and retold it way better than I could of. It made my heart happy.

I do it because a hug and a kiss from a three year is the best thing.

I do it because I love standing in church and feeling little arms wrapped around me because they saw me and just wanted to say hi.

I do it because of the smile I get after I made a "boo-boo" all better with a little cleaning, a bandage, and some extra special love.

I do it because no matter how frustrated I get at little D for his potty-training accidents that I have to clean up every weekend (and I'm not talking pee here), my heart melts every time he says, "I'm sorry, Miss Bandy (not Brandy, Bandy)." I mean seriously, who could resist the big blue eyes and most precious face ever?!?!

I do it because I love to sit down with them to color or using the Play-Dough to stretch our imaginations as far as they go.

I do it because I see the kids in public and they scream as loud as they can, "Mommy, there's my teacher!"

I do it because they grow up at Central and many years later, they still remember me and I can say, "I remember you when..." Even after they grow up, I still have a relationship with them.

I do it because they will sometimes randomly come up and tell me that they love me.

I do it because one day, the little seed that I've planted will harvest into something bigger than I can imagine.

I do it because once they get what Jesus did for them, they hold nothing back when it comes to loving God and telling others about him. They are the boldest people I know when it comes to talking about Jesus.

I do it because my heart fills with the greatest emotion when they are baptized. The two I witnessed today were both kids, it made me cry. It's amazing to see that.

Blood (from the kids), sweat (from me), and tears (sometimes from both of us), makes it all completely worth it.

Completely...

Gracias a Dios

***Every year about Thanksgiving, I post this post. Sometimes I edit it and sometimes I just leave it the way it is. It's a reminder of where I've been and how far I've come.***

God,

Thank you for everything you have done for me. Thank you for loving me even when I screw up. Your love is like nothing I have ever felt.

I don't say thank you enough for sending Jesus to die for my sins and I'm sorry for that. I forget about the cross on my neck sometimes, forget why I wear it. God, thank you for never letting me walk away from you 100%, you always manage to pull me back when I get too far away from you. Thank you for stopping me, being my conscience when my "old self" comes out. You stop me from going backwards, force me to own up to my actions, no matter how bad it is.

Thank you for saving me and caring about me. No one has ever cared for me like you do. Why do you do it? There have been many times when I dishonored you. There are so many people who don't care about you. Ah, I get it, you not only love me but you love them too? Irregardless of what they do? That's awesome, it really is.

Thank you for assuring me that I'm gonna be alright when I don't seem to think so. Thank you for showing light in my sometimes dark world. I haven't had any dark days in awhile, thank you for that. Thank you for always welcoming me back to your arms when I stray off your path. I don't deserve this kind of love from you. Your love is so amazing, your grace and mercy is beyond my comprehension. Thank you for always having time for me, when my schedule is so busy, I have no time for you.

Thank you for sometimes "slapping me in the face" to make me open my eyes to see what you see. I am so blind sometimes. Thank you for always keeping my eyes open and for wiring me to put others needs before myself. Thank you for times you've prompted me to feed a homeless person or help an elderly woman with her groceries, or whatever. I've been crazy blessed every time I've done it.

Thank you for making the person that I am. You made me this way for a reason. Thank you for showing me that my purpose is to serve you above everything. That right there is an honor, the highest to speak of.

Thank you for the fact that I can hear the sounds around me, like the sound of a child laughing, of the waves crashing against the shore. The sounds of people singing only for You. The sound of people crying out to you in adoration.

Thank you for my sight, through my eyes, I have seen your beauty in people as well as in nature, the world's pain, the smile of a loved one. I've seen You. I see you always.

Thank you for my sense of smell, I have smelled fresh green grass and the ocean air. I love to smell a baby's head, a puppy's breath, and orange blossoms. The smell of my grandmother's perfume on someone brings back so many memories. I have smelled the pages of an old Bible and loved it. They all remind me of you, God, somehow.

Thank you for my sense of touch, to me the most important sense I have. With this, I have felt the greatest hug from friends, the kiss on my hand from a stranger in need, the softness of a baby's cheek, the comfort of a warm blanket, a little one's hand tightly wrapped around my one finger, felt you in a breeze. I have felt my hands in yours. You're still holding my hands, I feel it more every day.

Thank you for blessing me with such awesome friends that I love dearly and hold very close to my heart. I take them for granted sometimes and forget to thank you for them also. These are the ones who show me you're still around when I can't find you. Thank you for the amazing way they love me, no matter what I do, their love for me never ends.

Thank you for Heather. Her long-lasting friendship has been what pulled me through many tough times in my life. Deaths of our parents, boys breaking our hearts, tears over many things, laughter over so much more, her marriage and having a child, friendships lost through the years, and we are still kicking over 25 years later. I can't imagine my life without her.

Thank you for Kristine. Our friendship has come so far since we went to Chile in 2006. She keeps me grounded and makes sure I don't forget who you are and why I follow you. And when I was actually thinking about taking my life that you gave me, she was the first person to address me and telling me that I needed to get help. You nurtured our friendship. You knew I would need her more than anything over this past year. Thank you for our non-stop laughter, the dancing, as well as the tears we've shared with each other. Thank you for just letting me cry when my mom died. Whew, I needed that. Te amo, mi chica.

Thank you for Romi. This is another friendship you nurtured. I broke down and told her my secret about a year ago after much prompting from you. She could relate to me and our friendship quickly blossomed. We just "get" each other in so many ways. I'm blessed to have her in my life.

I guess I get caught up in life and forget how blessed I am sometimes. I apologize for that. Thank you for opening my eyes to who you are 7 years ago. Wow, it has been a ride, but I wouldn't change a thing.

Thank you for everything, I will be eternally grateful to you for what you have done in my life. And I'll continue to serve you in gratitude until I take my last breath.

The Final Inspection

Every year on Veteran's Day, I post this poem.

Thank you to all the men & women who have fought or are currently fighting for our country. It's because of you that we are living in freedom.

The Final Inspection, by unknown

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my Church have you been true?"

The soldier squared his soldiers and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills just got too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgement of his God.

"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

The Good, the Bad, & the Scary

Now, if you've met me, you know I'm a plus-size gal. I've been like this for a long time. I try to eat healthy when I can and I try to exercise when I can. But honestly, I never really cared too much about my weight. I was always under the assumption that I was somehow immune to the risks that come along with being overweight. It was never going to happen to me because I was the exception to the rule.

Boy, I'm pretty stupid, huh?

My weight problems have caught up to me. For the past month, my left knee has just been hurting. I'm pretty sure that it's from the years of weight that my poor legs had to bear. Although I'm pretty active for someone my size, I'm not active enough.

Last week, two different doctors told me I have high blood pressure. In my entire life, I've never been told that. My blood pressure has been normal. The first doctor told me that my blood pressure was high and yet again, I ignored her. I thought it was nothing and it was because I was stressed out from school. I still thought I was immune to anything. The next day with a different doctor, she once again said my blood pressure was high. Two days in a row of high blood pressure is not good.

It was then that I began to worry, I began to actually care about my poor body and the damage I have done to it. Within a few days of the high blood pressure readings, my right arm started to hurt. It's just painful, almost like a numbing feeling. That worried me more than anything. I may not be a nurse yet, but I know that high blood pressure and arm pain are not good! This could be an indication of a heart attack or stroke. This of course caused me to stress and worry even more. I seriously became scared for my life. You may think I'm too young to have a heart attack or stroke. But age has nothing to do with anything.

I made an appointment to see my primary care doctor yesterday. She said once again my blood pressure was high, although it had gone down a little since the readings previously. She was concerned because of my weight and the readings of my blood pressure. I explained to her about my arm and she said that she didn't think my arm had to do with my high blood pressure. She said it was good that I came in to have everything looked at.

The good news is my arm pain is NOT due to my blood pressure. The doctor said it's Medial Epicondylitis. Haha, when she said what was wrong with my arm, I immediately knew what it was and what is wrong. :) FYI, generally arm pain for a heart attack or stroke would be in the left arm, duh!

The bad news is that I have been put on blood pressure medication until further notice. I have a follow up in a month. But, that's okay.

She stated even losing weight (even as little as 5lbs) could bring down my blood pressure.
Operation Brandy NEEDS to lose weight is on. I have to commit to this, I have to. I don't want health problems. I want my knee to stop hurting. I don't want to take medication to control my blood pressure. I'm not going to become a maniac and diet excessively. I need to take it slow, putting too much pressure on my body right away, could still give me health problems.

I wonder why I'm more committed to walking in the dead of the summer than I am in the winter? I need to change that, even walking will help me. I need to make healthier choices in my eating habits. I am taking a nutrition class right now, I'm really learning a lot!

Okay, peeps, hold me accountable. I need all the accountability I can get!