Be Still My Soul

That is one of my favorite hymns.
I sung it after Mom died.  A lot.

In a few, short days, she will have
been gone eight years.
I have no idea where the time went.

Once, after she died, I saw a woman
in the store that looked like Mom.  I kept
staring at her.  I think it made her feel
uncomfortable so, I quit.  Then I cried.

It's hard for me to recall her voice now.
I have to really concentrate.
That bothers me.  A lot. I was afraid
that would happen.

I used to think about her everyday.
Until one day, I realized I hadn't thought
about her for awhile.  I wasn't sure how
long it had been.  So I cried.

At first the pain was intense, consuming, and
raw.  It's just a longing now with passing
moments of sorrow. 

Someone told me that time heals all wounds.
I'm not sure that is true, but it does get better, easier,
and life goes on, until one day we're with them again.

Yesterday, our Ward suffered a tragic loss.
And now, dear friends are left grieving  for the
loss of their wife, mother, sister, and friend, and also
their son, brother, and grandson.

Words could never express the sorrow.
How I wish, along with everyone else, that I could ease
their pain.  I cannot.  But there is One who can.
Who will.  With time.

For now, it is my prayer for them that they may
find comfort, and rest in the assurance that He
lives, that families are eternal, and that they can be
with them again someday.

Missy

Messin' wit the kids!

Sometimes, when there's nothing else to do,
I like to mess with my kids. I enjoy a good
laugh at their expense.  Oh come on, like you don't do it too!

Here's my latest, in case you aren't part
of my texting circle.  Enjoy.

  

 

And my personal favorite...

 

Hehehe.  I never get tired of that picture.

Blog ya later, Missy

Confessions of a Ghetto Queen

There are some facts in life that people must
learn to accept. For instance, some people
must learn to accept the fact that life is not fair,
and they must make themselves
get out of a perfectly warm, comfortable bed
long before the rooster crows, and get ready for work.
Others must accept the fact that cleaning the house
while kids are still growing, is like shoveling the
walk while it's still snowing!!!  
Still, others must accept the fact that they are ghetto queens.
This is where I find myself.  Only, I don't fight it any more. 
I embrace it.  Like a warm, snuggly quilt on a mid-July night.
Allow me to explain myself. 
I have always wanted to be one of those women with
not a hair out of place.  One of those women with well
groomed and well behaved children.  One of those
women with a picture perfect, magazine worthy, home.
I have none of these. Except for having well groomed and
well behaved children. (Don't be jealous.)
There are some features to my home which I feel I must hide
from the rest of the world (except from my friend Brandi, on
account that she is a ghetto queen too).

We sometimes compare our ghettoieness.  Anyway, let me just
show you.


Like this:

We hide it with this:

And this:

We hide it with this:

And this:

We don't hide it.




So, if you see quilts, throws, or any other large swatches of material around my house
they are likely strategicly placed to disguise this:

*Big Sigh*




Oh no, no, no.  We aren't done yet.  Follow me.
This is the boys' room.  (Never mind the stinky boy smell.)

These are from him:

(A tantrum. His only one, I promise). 
I haven't even tried to hide them. I just don't let anyone in there.



How about this?

It broke sometime last week.  Hubs hasn't had the chance
to get it fixed. 




So, I did this:

(Shoulder shrug) It works. Keeps me from having to
walk around the house and use the other door,
or worse yet, wait for someone to let me in
(which may or may not happen).
What??? You still don't think I'm a ghetto queen?
Well, guess I'll have to prove it to you another day. 
Another post. Trust me.  There's more and lot's of it.

Ghetto queens unite!!!   If you're a ghetto queen and don't
care who knows send me your thoughts!
Blog ya later, Missy

Hi. I'm Missy.

A nickname for Melissa.  I've gone by
Missy all of my life.When I was in college
I tried to go by Melissa (you know, more
sophisticated), but I couldn't get used
to it. So, I just left it at Missy.  Not that
I necessarily like it, but people tend to think
you're ignoring them if you don't answer
when they call your name.
"Melissa.  Melissa?  Hey. Yeah you. 
I'm talking to you!! I said your name like
100 times!" True story.  Well, almost, or
at least something like it.

Sometimes people rhyme it with Tissy. 
Sometimes they rhyme it with...
They're soOo original. 

Most of my friends when they greet
me say, "Hey Missy Ray."  Not just Missy.
Missy Ray.  Which I find to be rather enjoyable. 
It makes me smile.  I don't know why really,
but it does. 

I have four kids.  Meghan, Olivia, Owen, and Josh.

    Note: Big Brown Furry Rodents are Not My Children.
(In case you were wondering.)

They're your typical run of the mill 7 to 16 year olds,
but I'm crazy about them.


I was pleased to learn that two of them really like their
names. Meghan even likes the way hers is spelled. 

Credit that to the hubs. 
I wanted to spell it M-e-g-a-n, but I lost out. 


Josh once answered on a Primary- Get To Know You
questionnaire -
What name would you choose if you could?:  I like my name.

Glad to know it. 



Owen however, laments the fact of not being named
Dwayne, or Alvin.

Now, I must admit that we considered a list of names for him, but
those two never made the top100.  (No hate mail from any Alvins, Dwaynes,
or their mothers please.)

Olivia doesn't really have an opinion about her name.

That's OK I guess, but
I happen to think it is the loveliest name ever.



We have a dog, Katie Ann.  She's a Yorkie. 

She loves the hubs more than me.



This is the hubs.  (On the right.  You already met the cute bug
on the left.  What a ham!)

 I have loved him since I was 15.  Most people call him by our last name.
That's what you get for having a last name that can double as a first.

Blog ya later, Missy

What in the world are they doing?

We have some really strange neighbors
(well, they're not exactly next door neighbors,
they live down the road about a mile or so).
We pass their home every day during our
comings and goings, and most days
any number of them can be seen
walking around their house.Not just
meandering about in their yard, actually
walking around the house.
They do it so often that there is
a dirt path!!! I've even seen
the chickens walking along it! It's such
a common sight that every time
we pass we look to see if there is someone walking,
and if there is one of us exclaims yells "Walker!" 
My kids even let me know if they have
seen one when they passed by on the school bus.
Sometimes the kids will even update me with
"Oh Mom, I forgot to tell you,
me and Dad (that's how we talk here) saw
a walker the other day when we went
to Wal-Mart."  Now, you may be
saying "What's so weird about that?  Walking
is good for you."  Well, nothing is wrong
with it except we (mainly, I) wanna know why.
Most people who to choose to walk don't walk a dirt path
around their house! We  have a couple of theories:
1.  It's a form of punishment for the kids
     (if so, than those kids are some major stinkers!)
2.  We  don't really have any other theory, other than they're
     weird.
(It reminds me of that movie with Tom Hanks, "The Burbs". 
Only I don't think they are murderers.  Although, if we were
to write a movie about them we could call it "The Sticks". 
Note:  Not my original thought.  Alternate movie title provided
by my brother.) I may just have to get a picture of it to
show you. Then you'd understand.  Only I don't
want to get caught, so I'll have to be sneaky
about it. The only other thing I wonder is, if
they look at us and wonder what's up with the
family in the little gray van that drives
past everyday with their faces glued to the
windows?  I'm thinking they exclaim yell "Peepers!"

Blog ya later, Missy

"Blog? Blog what???"

It's official I'm a blogger. I never thought
I'd be one of those, especially since up until about
6 months ago I didn't even know what one was!
I know. I know.
But you see I'm just not that into computers
and surfing the net
 and bl bl blogging because we still live with dial up.
I know. Enough said.
(It's OK. I don't need your pity. I just shared that
with you so you would understand.)
But that all changed when I discovered Facebook.
Facebook has changed my life.
I love, love, looove it!!
I love hearing about the little things
in family and friends' lives that would normally never
be shared because of distance and time.
Sporadic moments in life that would likely be forgotten.
*sigh*
How does all of this lead to blogging you say?
Funny you should ask.
Well, occasionally I check out friends profiles.
You know. To see where they live, or where they're working.
Things like that.
Oh. OK. I admit it. I'm a FB and blog stalker!!
I just can't help myself. (My mom would've said that I am nosy.
I prefer to think of myself as inquisitive.)
Anyway, that is how I discovered the World of Blogging.
Lots of friends have blog sites. Who knew?!?!
And so, as I read and read a crazy thought occurred to me...
Why don't I start my own blog??? Hmm...
It would give me a place to ramble on and on
about the random thoughts that run
through my head,
and give me the chance to share all of my
cute kids stories.
Trust me with 4 of them, I've got plenty!!!

So, I make my big announcement to my sibs
that I plan to start a fabulous blog to which
I get......"Why??" Immediately followed by blank stares and the sound of chirping crickets.
The response from Hubs wasn't much better.
(They're soOo supportive.)
"Why? Why???
Because I want to share my great family and wonderful life
with the ENTIRE WORLD!"

YOU'VE. BEEN. WARNED.

Blog ya later, Missy