My Perspective On Why I Am A Race Car Widow

Let's close Memory Lane for now and move onto B&T (Bill & Terra) Racing, which is the name my hubby Bill gave his "hobbie" to make it a "business".  He has it listed as an advertising/marketing business, and has had a few sponsors during his six years of racing, but is always prospecting for sponsors.

I came up with, I am a race car widow, as a play off of, "football widow" and "deer hunting widow".  Most people assume that means I'm left alone during racing season, but it actually is quite the opposite!  I am by his side, as his partner, having my duties to fulfill, at 99.9% of the races he participates in.  It's the off season where I find myself  "widowed", but that doesn't make me a forgotten unappreciated wifey!  LOL!

How in the heck did this happen to me?  I find myself wondering this at times, and now, I'm going to share that with you.  It all started about eight years ago when Bill and I had just come home from a wonderful wedding anniversary trip on a thursday morning. We had not so much as gotten all the luggage, souveniers, and gifts to each other unloaded and into the house, thinking we'd enjoy a long, restful weekend before returning to the drudgery of the old 9 to 5er, when the phone rang.

Bill ran to get it which is extremely out of the ordinary!  If it wasn't his cell phone ringing, he wasn't answereing it!  But, alas, Sigh...he did and who was it?  One of his childhood buddies he had run around and gotten into some minor trouble with in their gang, "The Pine Tree Mafia."

Seems like Luke was now in the racing circuit with his new red dragster and really wanted to go to Dragway 42 in West Salem, Ohio, to drag.  Problem was, he didn't have a crew chief, or pit crew and knowing how talented Bill was with motors, wanted to know if we would go with him to the the track as his team members.  Way to go Luke, stoke his ego!  LOL!

I just heard, "Yeah, we have the weekend off, we'll go!"  I looked at him with that "what in the heck did you just do?" wife look, and he excitedly told me the whole deal with such childlike enthusiasm!  I had my arms crossed, foot tapping, explain to me what the heck you just did, look.  After 19 years of marriage, you get to know and label particular looks and body language, and mine was screaming at him in silence right now!  He continued on with his most charming voice, reminding me of how I grew up around racing snowmobiles and motorcycles, and how we discovered the race track in Grand Bend, Canada while on a camping trip with my sister and brother-in-law a couple of years ago.  He allowed a brief pause, guaging my reaction to his "pump her up" speech, I'm sure!

He continued with:  And we took the kids there last year over summer vacation to watch, and how they loved it!  Especially when he took us to the pits where the top fuelers were, how great it was when they started one of those babies up and the rev, rev, of the engine changed your heartbeat to it's rhythm.  Oh and the smell of that fuel!  Insert man grunting noises, LOL!  Oh yeah, I thought to myself.  the ringing ears, the burning nose and wheezing breaths, and the dreaded burning eyes complete with blinding tears!  Whoopee, whee ha!  He almost had me until he mentioned the pits incident!  But then continued with how his dad always took him as a little boy to Columbiaville, Michigan to watch the drag boats, conjuring up all kinds of  childhood memories.  I looked at his face and the innocent little boy eyes again, and was suckered in, saying, "OK, let's do it!"  Uh, Huh, can you say smooth move, girl!

And this my dear friends was the beginning of end of life as we had once known it!  Luke booked us a room at the hotel he was staying at and we exchanged some clothing and such from our large luggage to smaller pieces, and we were on our way to Dragway 42 in West Salem, Ohio before I even knew what hit me! 

I must admit, much to my chagrin that I had a great time!  It was very exciting as Luke's girlfriend Terri was a blast, we hit it off immediately, and then there was that look in Bill's eyes while he was wrenching on Luke's car that gave me a heart pitter-pattering experience!

Luke made us feel very welcome, and important, and feel like we

really were crew and team mates by inviting us to wear his

newly designed and purchased team uniform shirts, that featured

the very popular pizza compay chain that he started by

himself, expanded, and owns!  Racing was returning, boiling back

up into my blood as if it had never diasappeared the day I became

with child!

Well, that one time, turned into many times for the rest of that year and into the next.  Each race Bill wrenched on Luke's car, I saw a desire growing and growing whenever I gazed into his eyes, while he was completely preoccupied in his crew duties.  I just knew he wanted one of his very own.  Apparently Luke saw it as well, and told Bill that he wanted him to drive the dragster, making some passes to get qualified for his IHRA license.  And so it was spoken and so it was done, as Luke talked about wanting to eventually have a two car team. Needless to say, Bill was totally and completely addicted!
But, as time passed and Luke bought a motor home and trailer, then sold them and bought a toterhome, and then traded in that one for a new improved, bigger and better toterhome, Bill came to realize  that Luke wouldn't have the money to purchase a second car, and with each passing race, Bill's countenance fell a little more.  I felt so bad for him that my heart literally ached for him, and that is what I wil call my mistake number one!

Mistake number two was to open my mouth without thinking, purely from raw emotion, and saying to him that he should just buy his own darn car!  Arrrgh!  The dirty deed had been done and I couldn't take it back!

During those two years working with Luke, naturally we had made numerous racer contacts and had developed the racer comradeship with many of them, making many friends!  Then one sweetheart of a friend named Jeff offered Bill a turnkey dragster with trailer for only $15,000!  Even I had to admit that it was a steal of a deal, a once in a life time deal.  An offer too good to pass up!   Dang it! You can chalk that one up as dirty deed number two!

Thankfully, he purchased it towards the end of that second race season.  He couldn't wait until he could get at it, tear the motor apart, scrutinize each and every part, analyze them, clean them, buy new parts he thought may be getting a little worn, and talk non-stop about it, then put it all back together in the off season.  That's when I became a race car widow!

Approximately during the same time frame, my daughter and her husband had run into some financial difficulty, and they along with my firstborn granddaughter, moved in with us.  Now, just so I can back up my statement about him talking non-stop about that car, and playing with that car all the time, I'll share a cute little story to prove that staement as legitimate!




Once Beth and her family were back on their feet again, and preparing to move into a place of their own, about a year and a half later, we gave Chelle,  Chelle a picture of her papa in a nice little frame to place on her little night stand right next to her toddler bed.

The next day, Beth called us just cracking up!  It seems that little Rochelle  carried that picture around with her, pointing at Papa and repeating "Papa Race car", "Papa Race car"!  Beth told us that Rochelle thought her Papa's name was Papa Race car, LOL!

When she was just a little older, her family came over for a visit and her "Papa Race car" was in the garage with that black beast and with Chelle's mom and dad.  She was in the house with her nana getting some tender loving care and playing.  Then, Bill, after giving the motor a tune up, reassembling, and replacing it into the car, was now ready to fire that baby up!  Chelle and I were in the family room which only had just one wall separating it from the garage, so that when Bill fired her up, it was extremely loud and literally shook the whole family room to the beat of it's rumble!  In a mere fraction of a second, that little baby girl ran the whole eight feet that was between us, got directly in front of me at my feet, and jumped straight up like a rocket being launched, until she was looking me eye to eye, with her eyes being as big as saucers!  I had to quickly reach out and grab her before she crash landed back to the floor.

When I had her secure in my arms, she started to cry, and while desperately trying not to burst out in laughter to the point where my body was shaking, I hugged, rocked and comforted her, all the while trying to maintain my composure.  I told her everything was all right, it was OK, that was just Papa's race car.  After I had comforted her and Bill had shut her down, I opened the door to the garage and pointed to the black monster and said, "See, it's just Papa's race car."

She looked up at me with the cutest little grin and adorable sparkling blue eyes and said for the first time, "Papa's race car!"

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that was the day Rochelle learned Papa had a race car and when asked, could undeniably point out the two as a different entity.  From then on, her Papa was just Papa! 

Eventually, after being around that dragster enough, she was even bold enough to  sit right down in the driver's seat and make her rendition of the motor running down the track with both hands on the wheel!  Which, by the way, was more than her nana was hardly ever allowed to do!  (What the heck was her Papa thinking?  That I was going to let 'er rip right out of the garage, down the driveway, across the yard and into oncoming highway traffic of M-15?)

Men can be so self delusional sometimes when playing with their toys!  Well, he does know my racing history, heh, heh, heh!  And the fact that I was begging him constantly to let me race that black beast probably didn't help either!

Can you believe that still to this very day, I haven't even been allowed to just drive that dragster up to the staging lanes?  Tsk, Tsk, Tsk!

Now, when Bill first started testing and tuning, he discovered that he needed a lot of practice with the lights.  He has a box in the car that you set time in, so that once let go of the red button of the transbrake, there's a delay for a certain amount of time before the car launches.

Luke to the rescue again!  Luke had a practice pro tree with two mechanisms to release the button of the transbrake as the amber lights drop down to green.  It then gives you a digital read out of your reaction time.  I thought this was going to better than him walking around all the time as he repeated, "Amber, Bam!  Amber Bam" all the time with his hand looking like he was playing thumb wrestling with an unseen opponent!

So once again, Bill was out playing in the garage.  Then one day shortly thereafter, he came in and asked me if I wanted to play with him because in order for it to feel real, he needed some one to actually compete against, instead of just the computer.  So we went at it, and guess what?  Bwaa Haa!  My reaction time was better than his every time, Yeah, Baby!  But I guess he got tired of that and told me to hold up for a minute.  He came over to my side and pushed  a couple of buttons on this black box.  When I asked him what he was doing, he said something needed adjusting.  I believed him being "green" when it came to "box racing" and we carried on.

But now, he was beating me every time.  I got frustrated and told him I didn't want to play anymore and went back in the house.  It wasn't until we got together with Jeff again, a couple of months later, that I learned what Bill had done was, put more numbers in my box to slow down my reaction time.  Yep! You guessed it, he cheated!  It is still a long time running joke between the three of us, LOL!

Bill's very first race he participated in, he semi finaled!  And that is when my duties as Bill's crew chief  began and it goes something like this:  When we pull into our pit area, I fill out his tech card as he gets the dragster out and reassembles the neccesary parts. Once that is finished and he starts the engine, he drives up to the tech area with me following behind him on the scooter.  Once we arrive, he gives the technician his card  and IHRA license, the tech checks out the whole car, signs the card, then we head over to the tech tent.  There we sign the waiver form, show our i.d. and receive our wrist bands, his for driver, mine for crew.  Then we drive our vehicles back to the pit and wait for our class to be called to the lanes. 

Once the call has been made, Bill drives the dragster to the lanes and I follow him on the scooter and park.  I find the car in the lanes and check the tire pressure in the back slicks, making sure both read 5.5.  Then we socialize with the other races until the class running before us is almost completed and get the sign from the official to get ready to race.  At this point, Bill climbs into the cockpit and I help him get buckled in, hand him his driving gloves, give him a kiss, hand him his helmet to put on and then put his neckbrace on for him.  Once he starts the engine I go up towards the staging lanes and wait for his turn to run.  When I see him come around the corner of the tower, I get in his lane and direct him through the water box, about 18 inches beyond the water stripe, just where he likes it, so he can do his burn out.  I then step off to the side and when he is given the signal to do his burnout, I watch to make sure there is no sign of anything leaking.

Next, he backs the car up, and then he and his opponent slowly inch forward to stage, causing the first double pair of amber lights to appear.  Both cars then inch forward to deep stage turning on the second pair of amber lights, and once that is done, the large amber lights begin to fall as each driver holds the button to the transbreak and releases it as soon as the ambers fall. If they've put the correct amont of time in their box, they won't leave too early causing a red light, or too late causing the oppent to have a much better chance of reaching the finish line first.  The goal is to leave as soon as the green drops, to get as close to a perfect light which is a 0.00.

The first one to cross the finish line without going faster than the time they gave the tower, wins and moves on to the next round!  If they go faster than they indicated, it is called breaking out, and means, "You Lose!"  While Bill is waiting for the ambers to drop, at that point, my job is to pray for his safety, and for him to operate to the best of his ability, and trust me, I pray from the time he leaves, and the whole time he's booking down the track!  It's deadfully frightening at times, for sometimes the car gets a little out of the groove, and starts to fishtail, and over correcting could be tragic.  If you happen to see me with my fingernails bitten off, you know I'm at the beginning of the race season, as it happens every year, over and over again!  No, that's not in my duty assignment, it's just what I do!  LOL!

We run at our home track and travel to different tracks in Michigan, Ohio, and to Grand Bend, Canada.  The most exciting races are the Nationals where they put on an awesome show with top fuelers, the funny cars, all the big crowd drawers.  The Saturday Night of Fire is the best as when the show is over, they light fireworks off which  are absolutely beautiful!  Who knew drag racing had a pretty aspect to it?  Eh?

We have met some awesome fellow racers and one even calls me the "Pink Lady", now where in the world could he have come up with that, I ask demurely!  We know just about every track official at our home track in Milan, Michigan, being on a first name basis with most of them and all of the fellow homies who race at Milan Dragway.  Every racer is willing to help another racer with parts or tools if needed in a pinch, the senior racers even give tips to the newbie racers, it's really a great community or inner society, so to speak!

Now, moving right along, a couple of Bill's most memorable racing moments are when he was paired up with his mentor, Luke.  That doesn't happen very often at all! 

Another one is when he took out the son of the track owner in Stanton Michigan, causing him to pack up his stuff and put the car on thr trailer!

That action also caused Bill and Luke to be paired up once again, which allowed Luke to eventually take the Winner's circle!  Many times the racers are still racing well after the evening's darkness settles in.

The most exciting moment for Hubby was this past race season when he took out his 468 Chevy big block motor, which ran the quarter mile in 8.5 seconds at 156 miles per hour, and replaced it with a bigger 498 blown gas, fuel injected, Chevy big block motor, which runs the quarter mile in 7.49 seconds at 188 miles per hour, and that my friends is like racing the length of a football field in 1.2 seconds!  That's fast!! He was so excited because for the first time in his racing jouney, he was able to run the Quick 16 Series which starts with a large field of cars competing for the 16 car allowance, the fastest 16 cars making the field.  He finally qualfies to run it!  There's like that little excited boy again! 

That, however, is when the widowhood sets in, the in between race seasons when the car has to be torn down, welded, put on the dyno machine after being put back together, and all that other greasy, dirty work that goes into it!  Yuck, and bye-bye hubby! 

But it also gives MissTerraK time without hubby in her hair, for if he's not racing, or rebuilding, then he is watching races on the television, or getting online to get the stats of his buddies that live in warmer climates and are still racing in the NHRA circuit! 

Now I'm even hearing talk of having the car run next year with alcolhol instead of the 116 octane gasoline that he's been using.  Yikes, that's nerve wracking and also another season of widowhood for me. Yep, such is my life!

The most memorable "off " the track moment, was when this past summer, Rouch had it's car show and cruise in at Jack Rouch's Museum.  Since Bill is an employee of Rouch Industries, he was allowed to bring his dragster which was the only one there, as most cars were classic Mustangs and various other classic cars.  This in turn,  made his dragster a popular commodity, and let me tell you, his eyes sparkled each of the hundred times he explained how the whole car and motor worked.   I would have grown tired of it, except for seeing sheer bliss all over his face each and every time he showed off that black beast and told all about her!  Well, that and since he loves children, he would put them in the car to get their picture taken by their parents for a souveniers. I  couldn't even be upset with him when the WRIF radio station who was broadcasting the event, came over with Sara the WRIF girl and photographer, and wanting a picture with Sara in Bill's car, to put on their website, because the huge ear to ear smile was not for Sara at all!  He was thinking they would  be putting it up on their website and could mean potential sponsorship $$!  LOL!  He's such a hound!

                                                                                                                                                                                 

So through the years, the whole family as made adjustments in their lives to accommodate Bill's black beast, even Sophia will sit in Papa's race car's cock pit and put her hands on the wheels.  Oh, but you must keep your eyes on that one because she's always wanting to push the transbrake button! Even when her Papa tells her not to.  That in itself, is out of the ordinary also, because all little kids obey Bill when he instructs them, as he always uses what our kids call his "evil eye" look!  LOL!  But not little Sophia, the brave little biker girl.

But none more so than me, have had to make adjustments, as I have lost my hubbie to another, (sometimes to my advantage, and sometimes  not), also, still  to this very day, he refuses to let me race the doggone thing!  He states emphatically that the reason is he doesn't want me to get hurt, (Gee, that rings a bell doesn't it? Ha, ha, ha!), stating I could get out of the grooves, lose control, and crash into the wall! But I always question in the back of my mind, which of his two women does he truly want to protect!  Hmmmm...? A pondering point indeed!

I have a couple of clips of the dragster making a run, posted at the bottom of the page.  Feel free to scroll down to the botom if you'd like to view them.  Thank you!

And this, my dear readers, is MissTerraK's perspective on being a race car widow.

Until we meet again,

XOXOXO

MissTerraK 

Shall we Continue Strolling Down The Daddy's Little Girl Memory Lane?

Growing up as Daddy's little girl had both it's up sides and down sides, much as flipping a coin, watching it somersault up through the air and begin it's tumult back towards solid ground. Heads - you win, and tails - you lose! I got plenty of both but in looking back, as hindsight is 20/20, I see both as good in the scheme of molding and shaping my life. Read on and you shall see.

When Daddy took my sister and me to see Santa for the first time, the differences in our personalities was quite evident. Tammy was going through her shy stage and I was, well, just me! My sister went up front and just stood there in front of Santa with two fingers in her mouth. Santa took the initiative and asked her if she would like to sit on his lap, and she answered uh huh, fingers never leaving her mouth throughout the whole visit. So Santa picked her up, sat her on his knee, and asked her what she would like for Christmas. She just sat there ho humming and repeating ahh, ahh, ahh. So Santa again took up the initiative and asked her if she would like a dolly, same response from her, so he added and a baby carriage to put her in? Tammy with those two fingers still in her mouth, mumbled uh huh. I guess Santa gave up on any cute little child conversation with her, gave her a candy cane and turned her around so she could go back down the ramp.

When she returned, Daddy said to me, "It's your turn now."
That was all I needed to send me flying up that ramp and jumping right up on Santa's lap. He said, "Well, hello there young lady" and I replied with a big grin and saying, "Hi"!
He then asked me what I wanted for Christmas and according to Daddy, I threw my hands up in the air, looked at him like he was silly and loudly responded with, "Toys", as in duh!! I then asked him if I could have two candy canes and he being quite surprised by the whole thing, gave me two and I took off running back down the ramp! I was elated, but Daddy just laughed then told me I was very impolite to Santa! Isn't that what Santa was there for? Hell-lo Daddy!! Then we went back up the ramp to get our picture taken with Santa to make a memory of our first visit with Dear old Santa.

Some time passed and before I knew it, I was old enough to go to school! Now, I always tried my hardest to behave and be a good girl so I would keep Daddy happy! But some times, you just don't know the rules of the way the world works yet. It was recess time and I was dressed in my new dress, my new undies and new ruffled anklets. I saw an open swing and ran for it! Success, it was mine! I began to swing higher and higher, eyes closed, enjoying the wind blowing through my hair and the cool breeze as I went back and forth. I just happened to hear some boys laughing and taunting someone, so I opened my eyes and saw a group of boys pointing and laughing at me! So I listened a little harder and discovered they were laughing and pointing at me saying I had flowered under panties on. I yelled back to them that I did not! They responded that I did and now, a larger crowd of boys were gathering and laughing and I got mad! So what did I do? I tightened my legs just as stiff as they could be, and stopped that swing with my feet in a huge cloud of dust. I put my hands on my hips and marched right up to them and told them they were liars, I was not wearing flowered underwear! (Now, mind you, up to this point, I didn't know wearing flowered undies was a laughing matter, but seeing as I was accused of wearing them when I wasn't, I was mad!

Then one of the boys had the audacity to say, "Oh yeah, well if you're not, then prove it!"
So with much indignation, I lifted the bottom of my dress right up to my chin so they could clearly see what they had mistaken for flowers were polka dots! I said, "See! Polka dots!"
Then the boys started laughing harder and the next thing I heard was a whistle blowing and Mrs. Walters, the playground lady, glaring and running right towards me. I was totally shocked as she grabbed me by the arm and hadn't gotten after those boys for teasing a little girl! I dropped my dress as she gently pulled me aside. She told me that little girls showing their underwear to little boys was not proper playground behavior for young ladies. So I explained the whole situation to her expecting her to rip into those boys who were still all huddled around watching. But much to my surprise and shock, she explained to me that we had to go to the principals office and call my house and report the incident to my parents. Uh oh! Did I do something wrong? Was Daddy and Mommy going to be mad at me, was I going to get in trouble?

I tried not to cry and did a good job of it, but I couldn't stop that quivering bottom lip! I had to sit in a chair while the principal called my house from his office, therefore missing every word that was spoken. I was scared for the rest of the day and when school was over, I took my time walking home. When I finally arrived, my sister yelled there she is, and Mommy and Daddy asked me to tell them what had happened at school. I related the whole incident again, but this time to my parents and this time I couldn't hold back the tears. My mom held me close to her and told me it was OK, because I didn't realize what I had done was improper and my dad said that when I wore dresses to school, they would send a pair of shorts for me to put on at recess. Case closed! Or not! Because from that point on, Daddy had taken it upon himself to teach me how to be ladylike and classy.

That meant no more blowing bubbles in my milk at any table, no more belching out loud and laughing, and that was the day Daddy taught me the "catch and blow" technique of classy burping. He explained that when a lady feels a burp coming up she closes her mouth and catches the gas, then discreetly turns her head a little and very slowly lets the air escape through slightly parted lips, blowing ever so gently. Boy, the older you got, the harder it was to have fun!

A few years later when I was only seven years old, I had the unfortunate experience of having lost both of my front teeth right at Christmas time. Daddy with his sense of humor thought it was quite funny to sing to me "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth" by Alvin and the Chipmunks, as quite ironically, my mom had bought that album for my sister, my brother and me right after Thanksgiving, and just before both of my front teeth fell out. Oh, how I cringed when he'd sing it! And when I'd yell at him to "thop thinging that thong", he'd just crack himself right up with gut wrenching laughter, Geez, Daddy! Have a heart!





Shortly thereafter, unfortunately, my parents split up, daddy left, and that was the end of what I thought was our happy little family. I was still Daddy's little girl though! But just because he didn't live at home any longer, he still always came by and picked me up when he was out running errands. And he'd always buy me ice cream singing, "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!" We'd either go to a near by farm dairy where I'd get a blue moon ice cream cone, or to the Dairy Queen where I'd either get a cherry dipped cone or a Dilly Bar. Every Sunday he'd pick us up and take us to fun places like the zoo, the museum, to the movies for a Disney matinee, carnivals, and petting zoos. Sometimes when he got us for a whole week, he'd take us camping up north. He was a lot of fun to be with! Without failure, every time he dropped us back home, he would ask us, "How much do you love Daddy?" In unison every time, Tammy and Tony would stretch their arms out just as far as they could possibly reach without pulling a muscle and say, "This much Daddy!" Then he'd turn to me and say "What about you, Sweets?" I would then put both my hands over my heart and tell him, with all of my heart and soul! Daddy always left with a warmed heart and happy demeanor.

Before I fully knew what happened, I was living with my Daddy in his new house and his new wife! It was awkward for me in many ways that I cannot even describe, but Daddy was still always there for me, I was his "sweets"! He was my hero and I was Daddy's little girl.

As most avid hunters have their hunting dogs, my dad had his too, for rabbit, duck and pheasant hunting. He then became an A.K.C. breeder as well. The problem with that was when all the new little puppies were born, I wasn't allowed to play with them! Dad said that it would ruin them as hunting dogs, which he was breeding them for, not for family pets! Once again, all it took was a quivering bottom lip and big tears welling up in my eyes and...you guessed it, I got my very own puppy! Not a pure bred, but a puppy just the same. He was a doxen and beagle mix, the cutest little thing I had ever seen. I remember that day like it was only yesterday!

It was a warm sunny day with a bright blue sky, only interrupted occasionally, by a big white fluffy cloud lazily passing by. I was in the back yard, down by the lake watching the bluegill and sunfish and little minnows fighting to gobble up the bread chunks that I was tossing to them while enjoying the sunshine kissing my skin (and giving me freckles) while warming me all over. I was a million miles away lost in my own private thoughts that were running through my head much as marquee's flashing light bulbs. Then suddenly I was torn from them by hearing Daddy's voice calling my name in the manner which meant I was getting a surprise! I jumped up and practically flew to meet Daddy at the car just as he was getting out. And what did my expectant eyes see?, a teeny tiny little puppy!

Daddy held him out to me in the palm of hid hand. I started jumping up and down and asked of him, For me? He said, Yep! Just for you and put the puppy right into my awaiting arms. Oh, he was so warm and cuddly, his fur so soft and silky! When I raised him to eye level to get a better look, out came his little pinkish red tongue licking my face over and over,with his tail wildly wagging back and forth! Awww! I was in love with him immediately and obviously, he with me. It was love at first sight! He was black and brownish red with the exact markings of a doberman pincher.
Dad interrupted our love affair and asked what I was going to name the new puppy, and without much thought at all, I told him I was naming my new love Snoopy! I chose that name because I missed my mom and Snoopy was her favorite "Peanuts" character along with Woodstock, but that just didn't fit!

Every where I went that day, to my best friend's house, to all my other friends houses and to the corner store around the block, little snoopy was right beside me! He wouldn't leave my side even when I tried to get him to lay down for a nap. When night began to fall and dusk was settling over the neighborhood, I tried to bring Snoopy into the house, but was told by my step mom, he had to stay on the back porch(which was a room off the back facing the lake, but it was not heated.) Snoopy whined and whimpered breaking my heart, as I could see him through the glass of the separating door, and my heart was truly physically hurting. I was so depressed that I refused to eat dinner as my little Snoopy began howling puppy cries! My reward for that? An early bath and up to bed!

But that was OK, because I had a plan brewing in my mischievous little mind, and began to put it into action. I got out my sleeping bag and hid it under my bed until I was all tucked in, prayers said, and kissed goodnight. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, then very quietly, reached under my bed, grabbed my sleeping bag and snuck out to the back porch. Doggone it, if Snoopy couldn't sleep with me, then by golly, I would sleep with him! Sometime in the middle of the night, I was wakened by the voices of my dad and step mom saying there she is and Daddy saying isn't that cute she's sleeping in the cold back porch to sleep with Snoopy. Then I was instructed to get back up into my bed, but having a stubborn streak that rarely gets defeated, I refused! So my Daddy told me to have it my way, but I'd be back in when it got too cold. But, Daddy was wrong because there was a repeat five nights in a row, til he relented and Snoopy was allowed in the house and in my bed. I won that battle! That also gave my dad a great idea,(I was good for Daddy too!) Since the house rule of no dogs allowed had been rescinded on my behalf, he could let his hunting beagle in also, and the the two dogs became best of friends!

Watching them together while running them in preparation for rabbit hunting was a funny sight to see! Blue, my dad's dog ran through the tall weeds perfectly, but Snoopy having the thick body and long ears of a beagle, but the long body and short little legs of a doxen, was hilarious and gave me and Daddy many laughs! He jumped like a deer playing in the fields and all you could see just over the tops of the weeds and tall grass, was just a bit of the top of his head, and those long ears waving up and down! Memories I will never forget!

My pre-teen years were filled with lots of learning from Daddy! He taught me how to water ski, to play baseball, basketball, football, he tried to teach me to be his caddy when he golfed and I am perfectly glad to announce that one was a big failure after just once! I hate golf now, with the exception of putt putt golf which is more fun! He taught me how to drive the boat and the tractor and the dune buggy and the snowmobile. He bought me a mini bike and taught me how to drive that, he bought me a 22 gauge rifle and taught me how to shoot as well. We shared many wonderful moments together. But something was missing from the family, a boy! And that's when my brother Tony moved into that house with us! I now, was not the only one to embarrass my dad by saying things we didn't quite understand. One day Daddy got a phone call from Mable, the manager of the party store and she was fuming! Seems Tony overheard Daddy telling one of his buddies a joke involving a woman named Mable. So the next time Tony went to the party store, he sang to her, "Mable, get off of the table, the dollar's for the beer!" BwaaHaa! Busted ya, Daddy! Tony and I had fun together, we fought each other and for each other, we hated each other and we loved each other. It was a true big sister, little brother experience! Mostly though, we were good buddies and stuck up for each other, (mostly.) LOL!

Before you knew it, I was a full fledged teenager and then Daddy taught me how to drive a car, to race snowmobiles, and traded in my mini bike for a motorcycle and taught me to race those too! But that didn't work out in my favor, because for my sweet 16th birthday, I got 16 yellow roses and a 1978 yellow Trans Am! Yeah Baby! Lot's of guys at high school were jealous and one in particular had an older souped up mustang and bet me $100 that he could beat me in a drag race. OOH, the fun was about to begin! Just across from the neighborhood party store, they had taken out the fields where Daddy and I once ran the dogs, and were putting in a new neighborhood. All they had done at this point, was the roads put in and paved, a perfect spot for a drag race! So we picked our day, spot, time and met for the big event which had pulled quite a crowd! Cheerleader vs. Burnout Jock wanna be. Ladies and Gentleman, start your engines! We both mashed the gas pedal revving up motors, the make shift flags dropped, and tires were a squealing! The race was on and over very quickly! I not only won, I kicked his bad butt bottom! To celebrate, my friends and I went across the street to get some goodies from the party store, and then...Oh, Oh! Daddy was in that parking lot glaring a hole through me! Why today, of all days, did he decide to go buy a new garden tractor and decide to tool on over to the party store with it? He came towards me running, then said with his palm out, hundred bucks, I gave, next he said, keys, I hesitated until he repeated himself then I gave. He handed me the keys to the new lawn tractor and told me to drive it home, as he would take the car home. The crowd disappeared and I slowly drove that darn tractor home.

Once I was there, Daddy told me in no uncertain terms, he was taking the car back as he didn't buy it for me to kill myself! I argued, kill myself?, what in the heck is that supposed to mean? He told me that drag racing was very dangerous and that he was speaking from experience, because when he was my age, he and his buddies used to drag up and down Woodward Avenue, and yes, he lost a buddy to it one night. I very calmly explained to him that it really wasn't my fault, it was his and I shouldn't be punished for it! He told me that was hogwash and asked how in the heck it was his fault! I explained to him that he bought me a snowmobile and taught me to race it and I was good at it, that he bought me a motorcycle and taught me to race it and I was good at that too. So how could he even make an idiotic assumption that if he bought me a muscle car that I wouldn't race it?, and added that I obviously was good at that too! Probably a bad idea to say that, huh? BwaaHaa! He just answered with, it's gone! I was so bummed but asked him if I could at least keep the matching key chain. He just wrinkled his face up and said one word, "No!"
A few weeks later after I rode the bus home, a silver and "rust" pinto sat in the driveway. Oh, joy!, it was mine!

16 years old also meant a different kind of experience for me because house rules were I couldn't date until I reached that age, and it didn't take long for male callers to ask for that privilege! Now was the time for Daddy to have some real fun! When one would arrive in the drive way and just beep the horn for me, Dad was the one to go out to the car and tell them in no uncertain terms that they would not be taking me anywhere because any boy that didn't have the decency to come to the door, meet him, then take me out weren't good enough for me! Quite a few went bye-bye! Those that did have that decency to do the traditional meet and greet were allowed the honor of my presence for a date with a strict curfew mandated! If they were to bring me home so much as five little minutes late, Daddy was on the front porch with his shot gun in his hand! Quite a few more went bye-bye! Sheesh Daddy! If a boyfriend just wanted to come over and hang, then Daddy made them do hard labor, (as he always had some project or another going on) and they barely got fifteen minutes with me! Quite a few were discouraged that way too! It was rough! But I started taking college classes while still in high school and that left little room for dating.

I was offered my first acting job in Texas, I accepted, and moved there fully paid for by the company. I learned about high heels, makeup, fingernail polish, and jewelry! I had discovered my femininity and loved it! For six months while the position lasted, I did quite a bit of dating, however still being a novice in that area, some certain things were asked of me (which I'm sure I don't have to explain)and as I indignantly declined those offers, a lot more went bye-bye again! It was time to come home and that is when Daddy met his match! May I introduce to you the winner of Daddy's chasing them off game? His name was Bill Kern, a wild and exciting bad boy with a bad reputation and some run ins with the law! He was in a gang before gangs were cool! The name of the game was "The Pine Tree Mafia!" Daddy wasn't happy and tried different tricks, like since he was a member of the Jaycees Organizatioin, which had a lot of members that also happened to be Oakland County police officers, he told me he pulled some strings and got a rap sheet on Bill and it was three feet long. He proceeded to tell me Bill had B and E's, drunken disorderlies, disturbing the peace, yada, yada, yada and the big one...Grand Theft Auto on the sheet. I didn't believe him because Bill was such a gentleman, sooo romantic and sweet and polite! Nice try Daddy! Heh, heh, it turned out some of it was true, except the grand theft, as that was Daddy's embellishment along with the three feet long story.

So Daddy moved on with the hard work trick but Bill was a stubborn one or maybe just determined, or maybe a little of both! LOL! So Bill took whatever Daddy would dish out and came back for more! Not even his "bad boy buddies" could disuade him with their teasing by singing "Big bad William is sweet little Billy now!" every time he brought me around them. Then tragedy struck! My mom who absolutely adored Bill, unlike Daddy, was killed in a car accident which totally devestated me and drove me further into Bill's arms. Daddy saw how serious this was getting and decided to take me for a drive and have a little talk. He told me if a man needed a good pair of shoes to last him for the rest of his life, he wouldn't buy a pair that another man had already walked a mile in. I looked at him confused like and said HUH? Then he tried another approach. He told me that if a man had been searching for a red, ripe, perfect cherry for himself, he certainly wouldn't pick one off the tree that already had a bite taken out of it! When he used the word cherry, something in my head popped and I understood what he was saying! Oh, umm, no pun intended there, LOL! Anyway, I told Daddy he was such a nerd, and not to worry, he had raised me to be a classy lady, and not a (BLEEP)!

I was having a hard time getting out of the depression I had fallen into upon Mom's death and Bill's mom basically in a nutshell, asked me what I thought my mom wanted me to do? Next thing was a big dazed whirlwind of wedding planing being done by my future mother-in-law, and before you knew it, I was getting married! Daddy gave up the fight, supported me and gave his little girl away to a man who wasn't his choice for her, anyway!
What a guy Daddy!
Life and our marriage progressed and children were born and life carried on. Daddy was just as great a grandfather as he was a father and loved his grandchildren like no other! He even became a great grandfather and not long after, tragedy struck again! Daddy fell and broke his arm and it was later discovered he also shattered some ribs, but too late! He was admitted to the hospital and never walked out alive!

That day, I lost my Daddy, my confidant, my shoulder, my port in the storm and a part of myself. The most ironic thing about it was shortly before his trip and fall, he gave me a CD with a single song on it, "Daddy's Girl" by Red Sovine. He also shook Bill's hand, when visiting from his home up north where he had retired to, and called him "Son" for the very first time. Did he subconsciously know he was soon to leave the confines of this earth and be released to go to his true home in heaven? I often wonder as I ponder and stroll down Memory Lane as Daddy's little girl!

Daddy, I just want to thank you for all the quality time you spent with me, for speaking into my life throughout all of the stages of my growth, the great potential that lie within me, for informing me that God made me wonderful and unique and made me a special gift to the world to spread good cheer and laughter and happiness together! Because Daddy, that molded and shaped me into the kindhearted, funlovin and adventerous woman, friend, wife, mother, and grandmother that I am today! Thank you for supporting me in all of my endeavors and pouring all of yourself into my life, and know that I will always be grateful for that, as long as I reside on this earth!

I Miss You Daddy, Rest in Peace
Daddy,
Although death leaves us a terrible ache that no one can heal,
Love leaves wonderful, marvelous memories that no one can steal!

You're alive in my heart and I'm a living branch of your family tree.
So are my children and their children, so on and on, lives your legacy!

When my life here on earth is over, and I'm at the pearly gates,
I know that for me, your open arms for an embrace, awaits!

Daddy's Little Girl,
Terra

Heartbroken from Grief?

Thank you for taking that bumpy stroll with me!
Until we meet again,
XOXOXO
MissTerraK

Strolling Down Memory Lane as Daddy's Little Girl

From the time my Daddy healed my broken heart over accidently killing little frogs, he was my hero and I was by his side whenever possible. If he went somewhere, I went along, if he wanted to do something, I wanted to do it too.I believed if Daddy could do it, then so could I! I was Daddy's little girl!

Now, My dad was an avid hunter and fisherman, not typically an interest for a little girl, however, it became one of my favorite things to do. Our first fishing trip was shortly after the frog jumping incident. Mom told him I was too little and it was too dangerous for a little girl just two years old! But Daddy and I didn't care, we were a team and we were going! So early in the morning, before Mom awoke,Daddy whisked me off to the lake along with his fishing pole, carton of worms, hooks, sinkers, and bobbers. He showed me how to take a worm out of the carton and attatch it to the hook. Once that was done, how to throw the line into the water and watch for the bobber to start to go under, that meant a fish took the bait, was hooked, and ready to get reeled in!

Well, I watched that bobber for a while and found it to be quite boring! I was more interested in those squiggley, wiggley worms twist around in that carton and wanted to explore those. Daddy was intentley eyeing his bobber and wasn't aware that I had worked the top off that carton and was feeling the worms weaving in between and around my fingers. Wow, what a new sensation! I wondered what just one worm would look like and untangled one from the mass in the container, held it up to my face for a closer look, but that doggone slimey thing writhed right out of my fingers and with a plop, landed in the water. Oh, oh! Daddy was going to be mad that I lost one. I glanced up and found him still staring intently at that red and white bobber! So I jumped right off that dock to get it back. Daddy said that as he heard a big splash, fear overwhelmed his whole being and so he turned, looked and couldn't believe his eyes! There I was under water swimming just like a frog with my thick hair dancing a beautiful ballet all around me. No problem he thought to himself as he dropped his pole, quickly jumped to his knees, reached in and pulled me up by my thick head of hair! He told me God must have made me part fish, as I instinctively knew how to swin underwater! He said that we had to keep it a secret from Mommy though, so Daddy wouldn't get in trouble! He wasn't mad about the last worm and couldn't wait to tell his buddies at work about the best fish he had ever caught! LOL!

Our next adventure was a trip into the woods to go squirrel hunting. It was fall and even though I wanted to wear my new pretty dress, Daddy told me I couldn't, because its not proper hunting attire and dressed me accordingly. He gave me some babyfood jars filled with little metal things and told me not to lose them. I think they were something he used for his gun or bullets or something like that, so I held on to them dearly! Well, that ended up to be a big waste of time because apparantly that was the day that my talkaholic gene kicked in gear! When we arrived to the perfect spot among the trees, Daddy said, as he picked out our trees, that we had to sit on the ground and lean against the trunks, and keep our eyes up in the branches to look for some squirrels. He told me we had to sit still and be very quiet, because if we made noise, we'd scare the squirrels and they wouldn't come around our trees. I sat and looked up at the tree branches for a bit, but I didn't see any squirrels and got tired of looking up. So my eyes began to wander to all kinds of things around me, and well, I honestly couldn't stop it, as I became aware of different things, all these questions kept jumping into my head!

I asked Daddy why most of the leaves weren't on the trees anymore, and I asked him why they fell off, and I asked him why they weren't green anymore, and I asked him why some of them turned different colors, some red, some orange, some yellow and some brown. Then I asked him why the brown ones were all crackley and not soft like all of the colored ones!
Sometimes he said, "No talking!", sometimes he said, "Shhh!", sometimes he said, "Be quiet!", sometimes he said SHHHH!",Then he said, "Would you please stop talking, you're scaring all the squirrels away!"
So I asked him how he knew squirrels even lived by these trees because we certainly haven't seen any?
He let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl and told me to get up and proceeded to drag me by my hand through the woods to take me back home! After safely depositing me there, he set out again without me in tow this time, then later returned with four squirrels dangling from his hand by their tails. He told me this is what happens when we hunt without all the chatter!
My bottom lip began to do its quiver and tears began to well up in my eyes and Daddy said that he was sorry, he didn't mean to hurt my feelings and would give me the squirrel tails to play with. I smiled my "I love you Daddy smile" up at him and all was right again, that is until Mommy yelled to my daddy, "Gilbert!", then took those tails from me and told me they were dirty, nasty things and threw them in the outside garbage!

The next hunting trip we went on together was a bit later and we had gotten an early snow. There was about six inches of the white heavy stuff on the ground, so Daddy got me all dressed up in my warm clothes, winter coat, thick woolen hat and mittens, my scarf and winter boots to go over my shoes. We were ready and off we went to go hunting! This time Daddy told me I was not to say a single solitary word throughout the whole trip in his stern, better do as I say tone of voice. I knew he meant business! So I vowed to myself not to talk to him at all, just follow and watch him and keep my Promise!

What we were hunting for this time, I cannot say, I only know that I was to be silent! After trudging along through the snow coverd woods for a while, we came across a fallen tree in our direct path and I watched Daddy jump right over it. So I thought because Daddy did it, I could do it too! And I was so, so wrong! I tried to jump over it also but I only made it half way. Worse than that was one of my boots landed in a crotch of two tree branches and got caught. I pulled and tugged but it wouldn't come out. I wanted to call to Daddy, but remembered I wasn't supposed to talk. I kept pulling and wiggling and pulling some more while watching him get further and further away, geting a little bit smaller and smaller.

I got scared of being lost in the big old woods, so I pulled really hard but out came my foot with no shoe, no boot, only my sock on it. I tried to pull the boot out, but it wouldn't budge, then I tried to atleast pull my shoe out but it was wedged in there too tightly! I looked up and now Daddy was just barely bigger than a dot, so I took off running with all I had in me to catch up to him with one boot on and one boot off. I finally caught up to him and without even looking back at me he told me I had to keep up with him, he wasn't walking that fastly. I didn't say a word, just followed behind him keeping my promise. As we proceded further into the woods, my little foot kept getting colder and colder until it even started to burn. I so wanted to to tell Daddy, but nope, I wasn't going to break my promise! I tried not to, but couldn't stop myself as I began to whimper because of the pain in that poor little foot. Daddy must have heard me because he turned around and asked me what was wrong. Then he asked me where my shoe and boot were, swept me up into his arms, felt my foot, took both of his gloves and his hat and put them on my foot. Then he started rubbing it vigourously!

He asked why I was only wearing my shoe and boot on one foot, and when I told him the whole story ending with keeping my promise not to talk! He exclaimed, "Oh dear Lord, that was over an hour ago!"
Then he told me that I'm supposed to talk when I get hurt, ot it's something serious! Then I told Daddy that wasn't what he said before. Daddy then broke into a run sputtering things about of all the times you decide to do just what I say, you pick now! Something about not when he told me to put the scissors down and I took them in my room and cut off one of my pigtails, not when he told me not to spit on wasps and I got stung under my chin, not to drink from the coke bottle because it had formaldehyde in it and I had to get my stomache pumped at the hospital, and something about my mom killing him. The last thing I remember is being in Daddy's arms as he was running fast to get me to the car. Obviously my foot wasn't damaged too badly, as I still have two, LOL!



Our next fishing trip was more successful. Oh, it had it's down sides too, LOL! My dad and I went out onto the lake in his shiney, silver, aluminum boat. It was a glorious sunny day, and the fish were biting, atleast for him! He had a whole metal string of them all hooked up and hanging in the water off the side of the boat somewhere. He was doing a pretty good job at reeling in the pike, while I just sat in a daze watching the sun reflecting off the water, bobbing along right with the small ripples of waves, enjoying the warm heat dancing all over my whole body, and it felt heavenly! Sometime while off in my happy thoughts, my arm dropped over the side of the boat and I gently wiggled my little fingers in the cool, refreshing water. Then all of a sudden, out of no where, water splashed, a fish jumped and my finger got bit! Fish have teeth! They can bite and draw blood! I screamed, more out of being startled than by the sting of the bite. When Daddy asked me what happened, and I told him, he just laughed at me and asked me what I thought a hungry fish would do when he saw a little dangling finger that looked like a worm? He said that the fish thought "Lunch"! Then he told me not to put my hand by the stringer holding all his fish if I didn't want to get bit, kissed my boo-boo, and let me know that I would survive, LOL! I told him that he shouldn't keep alligator fish by little girls! Catch More & Bigger Fish!




The next event that happened was that my fishing pole tried to pull me in the water! Daddy yelled to yank back really hard and even though I did, I was having a hard time staying in the boat just a crankin' away at that reel, Dad jumped up and held me tightly so I could reel it in myself. When I got the fish to to top of the water, dad grabbed his net with one hand, and scooped that fish into the boat. That was the day I caught my first fish, and it was also the day I got a really bad sunburn and had to take a bath in vinegar, Yuck! Why Mom? It made me sting! But before Mom could get me in that tub, Daddy and I paraded up and down and all around the streets of our neighborhood with me holding and showing off my first catch! Both of us with big, wide, proud grins across our sunburned faces!
To Be Continued....Stay with me for part two of growing up as Daddy's Little Girl!






Until we meet again for another stroll,
XOXOXO,
MissTerraK

Shall We Take Another Stroll Down Memory Lane?

If you love to laugh and be entertained, then let's do it!


A little time passed as it always does, and during that time my big sister and I became quite the little buddies! We did some things apart and some things together.

I discovered my hands!
I learned how to play pattycake!

She played with me on the front steps.

She showed me how I could pee like a boy! LOL!



We had our first Christmas together and went shopping with our mom and grama, got defeated in a snowball fight with our daddy, got excited when Santa came and accidently opened some of each other's presents! Then we got to go over to Grama's house, get more presents, eat all the food we wanted and get nice and comfy in our parents laps for a little rest and tummy settling! All and all though, we had quite a nice little Christmas and quite a nice little family going on!

Kids fun Christmas games and activities for hours of entertainment!

Then, somewhere along the line a baby brother was added to our little family, but I guess that it wasn't that big of a deal to me because the only things I can remember about it was him laying on a stark white changing table while Mom was changing his diaper, and wondering how he kept getting mustard in there!??! Bwaa-Haa!!

That, and when he started to eat solid foods, Mom would sit him in her lap and feed him from little jars. I would sit on the floor and watch. Then whenever a jar had a picture of a banana on it, I would open my mouth, saying "Aah, ahh, ahh" until she gave me a little bite! There's that healthy appetite popping up again!






Somehow, over time, I developed quite the liking to frogs/toads, and it just so happened that our backyard was a migration path for the little things on their way to the near by lake. When migration was in full swing, our back yard looked alive, as it was in a constant rippling motion.

I would go out back, capture one, cup my hands and start out for the front yard sidewalk where I could have a better view of them hopping. But they always escaped though hopping out through the little bit of an opening between my thumbs.

My dad, after hearing many "grunts" of discontent, came outside to see what was wrong. After I told him of my dilema through sobs of frustration, he explained to me that I had to catch one and hold on to it firmly between my index finger and thumb so it couldn't hop away, then carry it to the front yard sidewalk. He gave me a step-by-step demonstration to follow, told me to try it that way and that he would meet me in the front yard.

In a jumpin-jack-flash, I was at the front yard sidewalk with my first catch held tightly between my finger and thumb. Excitedly, I proceeded to set the little fellow on the sidewalk, all geared up for the show! But nothing happened, it just sat there and sat there and sat there! So I yelled out, "Jump"...nothing! Then I literally jumped my self to teach the little guy how to hop on a sidewalk, just like through the grass! Still nothing! So then I jumped up and yelled, Jump, jump frog, jump!" Jumping twice myself during the instructions. Still nothing, so I said "dud", and went right back at it, following the complete procedure from beginning to end.
Keeping Tree Frogs safe and healthy for both adults, and especially children!
After about six attempts and no results, I asked my dad howcome it wasn't working. He gently picked me up and sat me on his lap as he sat down on the front porch, and explained as delicately as he could, that I was holding them so tightly to stop them from getting away, that I was squishing the life right out of those little fragile babies! Upon hearing this, my eyes blinked several times, my bottom lip began to quiver and tears began to slowly cascade down over my cheeks, slide to the corners of my down turned mouth, and continue their descent to my chin, then pool on the front of my dress! Then my mouth uttered something like "Whaa, Haa, Haa" as I began to sob and cry. "You mean (gulp) I killed 'em (gulp)?"

Dad said, "Yep"! And I began to wail louder and louder! My daddy finally calmed me down by telling me it was really OK, because I actually did a good thing for them. I asked him, "I did?"
He shook his head yes and told me that I had saved them from being eaten by big, bad, ugly snakes! Out popped an ear to ear smile and life was all good again! And oh, how I adored my daddy, and this, my friends, was the beginning of "Daddy's little girl"!

Not too long after my toad/frog episode. I encountered another new experience in my life with my big sister.

Since I was always up before the crack of dawn,(Daddy told me God gave me a special job, it was to wake the birds up in the morning so other people could wake up to the beautiful, melodic sounds of song birds!), and I had to wake someone else up so I had someone to talk to, my natural choice was my sister.

No one else in the house was up yet, so Tammy dressed me in my new pink and white striped short outfit and decided to take me through the woods and down to the creek bed. Laying across the creek was an old log that was used to cross to the other side. My sister told me to wait and listen to her telling me how to cross as she demonstrated how it was done. She then stepped up on the log slowly putting one foot in front of the other and held both arms extended out on each side. She explained to me how to walk slowly, one foot in front of the other, and that if I felt wobbley, to stay still and use my outstretched arms to keep myself balanced. When I felt steady again, to start slowly walking til I reached the other side!

She performed the stunt beautifully and steady, never even having to stop once until she reached the other side. Then she came back over in the same smooth way. She then told me it was my turn and not to be afraid because the water wasn't deep. I looked at the water and saw the sandy bottom, and pretty little pebbles of all colors sprinkled about on that creek floor. I felt confidence rise up inside of me! I was ready!

Then just as I put my first foot on the log, she commanded me NOT to fall in the water! Was that a tad bit of fear rising up inside of me as well? If it was, too late!

I had made it to the middle of the log, where it sort of changed shape and I began to lose my balance. My outstretched arms began to frantically go around in circles like a dual windmill, but I lost the balancing act and KERSPLOOSH! I landed in the shallow water and began to panic, instead of crawling towards the edge, I was crawling further and further down stream where the water got deeper and deeper and turned darker and darker due to black muck.

When my sister finally caught up to me around the bend, she found me clinging to a root of a tree, soaked and filthy, and scared and crying. She helped me up and out and began to comfort me by telling me it was OK, it was my first try and I'd do better next time.

Then when we were only two houses from home, which just happened to be one of our mom's friends and one of our babysitters' house, yep, she was outside! She raced down the driveway and started scolding and lecturing my sister about water safety and adult supervision, drowning, blah, blah, blah, and the biggie, boy was she going to be in big trouble when we got home!

Tammy certainly didn't like the sound of those words and began running towards our house practically dragging me behind her. When we got to the front door, she put her finger to her lips and whispered Sssh! She slowly opened it and found the house totally quiet, then she took me by the hand and tip-toed towards the dryer! Oh no, no, no!

Yep, she did it! She threw me still dressed in my soaking wet clothes, hair still dripping wet, into the dryer, closed the door, climbed up on the machine and turned it on. It was the kind that had a glass window in front and she sat there watching me for an extremely short period of time, for the clanging and banging, moaning and groaning, turning and burning, crying and drying, brought my parents to immediate attention!

My Daddy opened the dryer door and rescued me! He demanded of my sister why she put me in the dryer! Her answer? Snicker! "Well, when I threw the wet kitty in there, it worked!"
Keep your young children away from danger with fun activities!
Again, as my 91 year old grama would say, "Oi, you, yoi!" But me and my big sister were still best buddies!

OK, Memory Lane is closing again until we decide to go for another stroll.

Till we meet again,
XOXOXO
MissTerraK

Let's Take a Stroll Down Memory Lane

We're going back, I mean way back, way back as in, these are memories that are only memories because my parents told me these stories of myself so many times, that I remember them! LOL!


I apparently was not your usual baby, I was a whopping eight pounds and eight ounces, and I was born with a sister already existing in my family for nearly two years. Upon my arrival home, she immediately developed a love/hate relationship with me. Every time my parents weren't looking, she'd run over and pinch me! As I let out a blood curdling scream and wails of discontent, a keen sense of satisfaction would overcome her otherwise cherubic face.





Mom and Dad brought home a new little sister,
They told me to, so I bent down and kissed her!
Everyone seems to utterly adore our brand new little baby,
But I don't like how she takes the attention away from me!
I know how to handle this situation, it'll be just a cinch!
Whenever no body's looking, I'll run over and give her a pinch!


Yet, whenever friends and family would come over to meet me for the first time, she would put her hands on her hips and rudely tell the visitors, "You can't hold her, she's MY baby sister!" Love/Hate all the way!

Time passed a while and thankfully, I survived her torturous ways. Here enters in the "unusual" part. Now, my sister's first word was "mama", and for all of those who know me personally, you know that I was always "Daddy's Little Girl", right? So you would naturally assume that my first word was "da-da" and you would be so totally and completely wrong! I apparently had one healthy appetite, so my first word was "ba-ba" meaning bottle.

Upon waking every morning, I would immediately yell out "baba, baba, baba over and over again, waking my sister, as we shared a room. Again, not being ready to get up and quite cranky, she'd run over and pinch me. Again came the blood curdling screams, then would come my parents with the bottle. I guess sometimes getting pinched worked in my favor! LOL!

As I grew and developed a little more, I now could eat some solid foods along with my bottle. Yet, the first thing upon waking, I would pull myself up into a standing position in my crib and shake the side, banging it into the wall, all the while yelling, "baba, baba, baba"! and making quite a racket. Apparently, my parents had trained themselves into sleeping through the noise, so once again, it was my big sister to the rescue! (For selfish reasons I'm sure!)

Now since my sister wasn't old enough to prepare me a bottle, she went to the fridge and found the home made blueberry pie my grandma had made for us to have after dinner that night. So what did she do? You got it! She chucked that thing right into my crib! It kept me busy for quite awhile I understand, as Mom said she didn't know when the last time she had been able to sleep in so late! Wonderful! Right? Wrong!
Mom said there was blueberry pie all over the sheets, blankets, and pillow in my crib, there was blueberry pie all in my thick head of hair, everywhere all over my body, except that is, around my mouth which was a total ring of white! LOL! The wall next to my crib was my very first work of art: Blueberry finger painting! (And they didn't even take a picture to keep for all of prosperity!) What a blueberry mess! Oops! Not my fault, just a baby here! Yep! Sister's fault, a big girl now! Who got the punishment? Not me, Tee Hee!

The next time the shaking of the crib and bellowing of "Baba" happened, big sister had learned how to unlatch the side of the crib and pull it down. So she helped me right out of that crib and into the dining room. There, after returning from the kitchen, she proceeded to dump a whole box of Rice Krispies and half a gallon of milk onto the carpeted dining room floor, right next to the table!

Now, I was never informed how, or even how much of it I ate. However, I was told that when Mom and Dad got up, they were not only surprised, but very angry, livid even! They asked my sister why there was cereal and milk all over the carpet and as big sisters have a tendency to do, she blamed it on me by saying, "Well," and pointing at me, "She didn't eat it all!" The complete and utter audacity of that girl!

I obviously had a hefty healthy appetite! For even when I was able to eat what everybody else could, up in my high chair, when I finished my food, I would look over at everyone's plate on the table, see what was left on it and ask, "Are you going to eat that? Are you going to eat that?"

Give your Baby the Very Best!

Funny how some things change! I now am known as a picky eater and the one who eats like a bird!

OK, Memory Lane is now closed until we meet again for another stroll!
XOXOXO,
MissTerraK

Hi, It's Miss Terra K!

I've got good news! I'm baa-aack! My apologies for being away so long, however, the past six weeks or so have been mad dog crazy and busy, talk about being slammed!
My daughter Beth finally gave birth to my first grandson! "Yeah, Baby!"





Also my in-laws were in from Florida, my brother was here from Missouri for those six weeks, and my oldest daughter, Brooke, came in from Minnesota, for two days over the labor day weekend.





But before that we had my oldest granddaughter's fifth birthday party, Where? You got it, at my house! The day after that was my nephew's graduation/birthday party, not at my house! Yes!!



Several days later, everybody from out of town was heading back home, the in-laws, my "lil bro" Tony, and Brooke (who dropped the news on me that there's a possibility she may be having twins), and my baby boy, Brandon, moving to Missouri to finish college.







By the way, I've not experienced the empty nest syndrome yet because I'm either learning new things on this computer, or wanting to send my computer flying through the air with the greatest of ease! LOL! Seriously, I fall asleep to the oldie but goodie song, "They're coming to take me away, ho ho, they're coming to take me away, ha ha" you get the picture right? Complete with white coats and straight jackets? Yeah, that's what I think, Tee Hee!

So, since it was the holiday weekend, my kind, loving, sensitive, race car driving husband, Bill, comes up with this brilliant party plan...cough, cough..., sorry, I was just choking on my words, Baaah Haaa! Let's celebrate Labor Day and have a going away backyard cookout picnic thing where? Yep! My house!

Need Bbq Secret Recipes for Backyard cookouts?

Now we're talking extended family as well! Oh, my stress levels are rising, well that, or I'm having my first hot flash! Nope, not that, still way too cold all the time not to mention I'm way too young for it, thank you very much! So, moving right along, needless to say I was too busy, busy, busy!






Right after that, Rochelle had her first day of school, she is now in kindergarten and has blossomed like a beautiful flower in time lapse fast forward, right there before my eyes! And she is so hilarious making me laugh, it's such fun! I am a fun loving girlie girl ya know!






No, it didn't stop there! Because two days after that was my son-in-law Chris's birthday, and we took the whole family out to dine at an Italian Bistro. Yes, you got it right, the whole clan! Bill, myself, Beth, Chris, five year old Rochelle, two year old Sophia, and one month old Colton! Let me tell you it was a blast! The dinner topic was what was going on with Rochelle in school which lead to teasing her, playing mind games with her if you will! It is so much fun to play mind games with wee little ones, LOL!

Beth told us when the parents came that first day for parent/child orientation, upon entering Chelle's classroom, she found all the children sitting on the rug in complete silence, they were obeying their teacher and it was wonderful! Wonderful that is, until she and Rochelle made eye contact and starting waving like she was trying to swat a fly away, and the silence was broken by my first born grandchild shouting to her mother, saying, "Mommy, I did what the teacher told me, and I behaved, and I was quiet, and I didn't talk when I wasn't supposed to just like you told me!"

Yes, as you can tell she inherited my talkaholic gene, I am so proud, but her Mom... not so much. I guess the rest of the parents started laughing and Chris and Beth were extremely embarrassed, especially when the teacher walked over to Rochelle and started siging, "It's my turn to talk and your time to listen!" in that sing song way that children like!

So we started teasing her at the table, asking her how old she was, how old daddy was, how old sissy was, how old baby brother was, how old mommy was and she she got all the questions right! Then papa asked her how old he was and she got this scared little look on her face! So her daddy asked is he 22? She responded with a shrug of her shoulders. Is he 25? Shrug! Is he 30? Shrug! Is he 42? Finally, she raises her hands in the air and says if you want to know how old he is, why don't you just ask him, he's sitting right here! I just cracked up! Smart little thing!

So Chris changes his strategy a little, and says do you think that Papa and Nana are old? Rochelle put her little finger and thumb on her chin, deep in thought, eyes scrunched and looking toward the ceiling, then comes off with..."Well, Papa's WAY old and Nana's just a little old (holding her finger and thumb slightly apart)!
Ha ha, we all burst out laughing because the truth be told, I am five and a half months older than Bill! I mean I was sitting up all by myself before he was even born LOL!

In winding down, I'll just say that with all the fun with little Rochelle and Sophia and holding brand new Colton, all these suppressed childhood memories keep popping up from the recessed corners of my mind, and I was a hilarious child too!

So in closing, I'll let you know that I'll now be blogging a series titled "A Trip Down Memory Lane". Stay tuned in because there's nothing like making memories, revisiting memories and doing a brain work out because our brains need it just as badly as our physical bodies do! And never forget, laughter is good for the soul!

Until we meet again, XOXOXO
MissTerraK

The Tale of Three Children Part Three

There is only 20 months difference in the ages of our two daughters and almost four years between our 2nd daughter and our son. After having my 2nd daughter, the desire to have a son still resided in my heart, however, with a terrible infection ensuing, complications directly associated with my daughter's birth, I was hospitalized for 5 days before she even reached the tender age of one week old. For the next year I was in extreme pain and had extensive tests trying to figure out what the problem was, and unfortunately, the infection in my whole abdominal cavity had caused scar tissue to form every where! I had two subsequent surgeries where the scar tissue had caused my fallopian tubes to adhere to my abdominal wall, and had to be cut free. After the 2nd surgery, I was informed that my tubes were completely blocked with scar tissue and pretty much every thing else was a bundle of intertwined mess with scar tissue, and that also, as a result of this, I could not ever conceive again.

Upon receiving this news I was devastated, but only for a moment, as I knew God tells us that He gives us the desires of our heart and I desired to bear a son so that the Kern name would not die with my husband as he comes from a very small family! I secretly held on to that promise for several years and had told my husband Bill that I refused the medical report given us, for doctors are not God! So as several years had come and gone with no pregnancy, I suggested that we really should focus on conceiving. I probably don't even have to tell you his reply because he is a man and I'm sure without too much trouble you can imagine the first thing that ran through his mind! Uh huh! Yeah, that! So naturally he agreed!

So after six months of trying and six months of disappointment, I told Bill, I wanted to quit trying because I just couldn't deal with it anymore. And what do you know! Blam! Three weeks later the "cycle ceased" if you know what I mean, and a visit to the doctor's office confirmed that the deed had been done! I was sure that this was God's way of letting us know that this was our miracle child given to us through unwavering faith despite the negative reports we were given, and He was in control!

Now I knew for sure that I was carrying a baby boy by that same unwavering faith! And when delivery time came, sure enough, our son Brandon was born! As he began to grow I began to notice that he had some astonishing gifts and talents. When he was just 3 and a half years old on Thanksgiving day, right there in my grandmother's house, at the dining room table, in the middle of dinner, he quoted word for word three Dr. Seuss stories right in a row! All clinking of silverware and small talk ceased and the whole room became silent as my little one rattled those rhymes off. Every one at the table was amazed and commented on how smart he was! We explained that he loved watching videos and he did have a Dr. Seuss one that had those three stories on them, but didn't know that he knew them by heart!

Many times after that I would be working around the house and hear him quoting scenes from Disney movies word per word also! And that wasn't all, the child was doing pencil sketches better than I can draw now, he was talented in drawing as well! One Christmas at my mother-in-law's house, he went over to her baby grand piano and starting playing Christmas carols by ear on it and insisted that we all sing along! Later on, his grandmother began giving him piano lessons because she was a piano teacher after all! Which by the way, was very frustrating for them both because he wanted to continue to play by ear because it was easier! OK, I said all that to say, when God blesses, he really blesses.

I'm sure you can tell by now that Brandon was an unusual child! Very talented in many areas, quite intelligent, but lacks some common sense! Let me explain...he was about two years old when his two older sisters were into the "telling on each other constantly" thing! All I heard the live long day was, "Mom, Beth is jumping on my bed!" "Mom, Brooke won't share her dolls!" in that sing-song way that children do. Well, obviously Brandon felt he could participate also and literally started telling on himself! I'd hear, "Mom, Brandon put the keys in the toaster!" and "Mom, Brandon's in the knife drawer!" and "Mom, Brandon got the stool and is in the pantry!", in that same little sing-song way! I must admit that it was very useful and spared many an injury and perhaps hospital visits. He loved copying his sisters, but literally told on himself! Why? Who knows, maybe he thought they had already gotten the market on their two names! Tee-Hee!

Another incident that comes to mind when I think how he takes things literally is after he had been in gymnastics about a year or two , he was probably 7 years old, just as skinny as a rail, as his father had been at that age, he stood up and he lifted up his arms for a big whole body stretch after sitting and watching T.V. for a couple of hours. His dad said, "Whoa Brandon, you got a six pack goin on there in your abs!"
This very angry look appeared on his face as it turned a deep dark shade of red and he shouted at his father, "I am not fat!" Bill and I looked at each other and said Huh? Then his dad asked him how he figured that he had called him fat and Brandon's reply was that he did not have a beer belly! After laughing hysterically for a few minutes, Bill and I had to explain to him what a six pack meant as far as abdominal muscles were concerned. Brandon, and that literal mind of his, had come to the conclusion that six pack referred to beer and men who drank beer had big beer bellies, which was considered fat bellies, so therefore his dad was telling him that he was fat. As my 90 year old grandmother always says, and I quote, "Oi, yoi, yoi!" Whatever that means, but it fits!



















I am happy to say that Brandon, after readjusting, and readjusting some more, did get awesome grades in school, was on the diving team and broke the school record six times! He graduated high school with good grades and some awards from from his art, as well as designing his own dive team sweatshirt.

He is now attending college for his graphics design degree and has had one of his teachers hire him to design the logo for his Road Scholars business. Brandon has decided that he needs to develop his artist look, but I just tell him that now he looks like a Blues Brother! What are mom's for? Right? Ha Ha!


Until we meet again, XOXOXO
MissTerraK

The Tale of Three Children Part Two

When we found out we were going to have another child, we were once again excited! As the pregnancy progressed, I realized that this pregnancy was nothing like the first, and privately believed that I must be carrying a son!

Finally, the moment came when the new baby was to be delivered and upon entering the world into the helping hands of the nurses, they excitedly told me I had a new little baby girl! HUH?

Now as I had totally convinced myself that I was having a boy, I was shocked, not medicated mind you but utterly and completely shocked! So much so, that I immediately sat straight up in that hospital bed and said "WHAT?" The nurses didn't take to kindly to that and as one rushed the baby off, the other pushed me back down telling me I could not sit up yet! I was thinking, yeah right, what did I just do? I'm sorry, after all that labor, I was a little cranky!

After all was taken care of, they brought my new little girl to me all cleaned up and wrapped in a warm little blanket. I looked at her little face and could not believe what I saw, I thought back wondering if they had indeed drugged me and I was hallucinating, because I was looking into the face of my newborn baby picture, long, thick dark hair and all! I mean exactly!

My dad came over to the bed and said,"Oh my God, deja'vu, this takes me back 25 years! She looks just like you did when you were born!"
I felt this great pitter patter in my heart and thanked God, telling Him that He indeed gives us the desires of our heart, for in that moment, I realized that although I wanted to give my husband a son, I did want a little girl that looked just like me! As much as I loved and adored Brooke, and as cute as she was, she had a mixture of both sides of the family and everyone had their opinion of what distant relative she looked like. It wasn't just like her daddy or just like her mommy, it was somebody in the family!

Well, let me just tell you that the differences between our two daughters did not end there! Where Brooke was happy and smiling all the time, Bethany was crying and totally unsociable! Every time someone other than her mom or dad looked at her, she screamed! And when she got a little older, she would add to that screaming and try to hide her face in my armpit! Where Brooke would sit and entertain herself with her toys for hours, Beth would get into one thing after the other after the other. I was always on the run!

When she got to the age of about 18 months old, she somehow developed attitude, defiance, and a stubborn streak like no other! It was coming down to the battle of the wills and she wasn't even two yet! She was constantly testing and pushing her boundaries!

I remember our first real battle, she had been getting into everything she wasn't supposed to and when I would tell her no, she would turn, put her hands on her hips and scream at me! I got to the point where I said, that's it, and I took her toy away from her and sat back down on the couch. Before I knew what had hit me, she had run over to me, reached up and pulled my hair! I said, "Bethy, let go of my hair!", very sternly. She said, "No!"

I told her to let go of my hair more sternly and she told me no again! I told her that if she did not let go of my hair, I would pull hers. Nothing! So I reached over and grabbed a bit of her hair and tugged slightly! What does she do, pull harder on my hair! I repeated let go of my hair and she told me no again. So I pulled harder on hers, repeated myself and got the same response from her, so I pulled her hair harder, she would not let go, so I gave her a swat on the bottom and to my amazement, she pulled yet even harder on my hair! I had no option but to pull harder on hers and I actually had that girl off the floor about an inch by her hair. She still refused to let go of mine, so I began to just sway her back and forth repeating to let go of my hair. She screamed no at me and tried to stare me down. Oh oh, now I was at a juncture. What to do? Can't let the child win this battle or I was in for a long haul, on the other hand, the only other thing left to do, was swing her around my head like a cowgirl swinging a rope like a lasso and chucking her across the room!

Now of course I couldn't do that, so I bent over picked her up and carried her to her room where I had to pry each little finger out of my hair! She won that battle and that was not good! But I had no choice or I would be physically abusing her! Right? Well she stayed in her room throwing a temper tantrum until her father got home from work! She may have won that battle, but she had not won the war! Or had she?

Now Beth was in Kindergarten, going to school half days in the morning, a prissy little thing in lacy dresses and fancy headbands! This particular morning was extremely dewy, the grass and just about everything was saturated in water! As the bus picked the children up right in front of the house, I always watched from the large living room window if I wasn't outside with them! I looked at little Beth with pride, getting so grown up, she was a big girl now and we had just sent out invitations for her first "friends" birthday party! When all of a sudden, I noticed the little red box she has gotten with her kids meal a few days earlier in her hands. It was dripping dirty water at a steady pace. I went to the front door and asked her what she was doing with that box? She answered me that she had caught some caterpillars yesterday and pulled lots of grass, and put them in the box, and left it in the front yard so she would see it and remember to pick it up on her way to the bus because today was show and tell day at school!

I told her the box was dripping water and she could not take it on the bus! She told me that yes she could! I told her she couldn't because the bus driver would not like her making a mess on the bus and to bring it back and set it on the front porch! She told me no! I said Bethany Lyn, put the box down and got the same reply! Stubborn little thing anyway!

Oh no, now I heard the bus coming and attempted again telling her to put the box down right now, and she totally ignored me! Now, I could actually see the bus and if I hadn't been in my nightgown and robe, I would have run right out there! Why today of all days, did I choose to stay in my nightie? Out of complete desperation I told her that if she took that red box on the bus, we would cancel her birthday party with her friends and she would only have another family one, never believing she would take it after that threat! But as the bus doors opened and the bus driver waved at me, Beth proceeded to yell to me that she didn't care and climbed up the stairs of the bus! I am quite sure my chin hit my chest as the bus doors closed and started off to the next stop! When the shock had worn off, it came to me like a hard slap in the face that I told her we would cancel her birthday party! I didn't want to cancel her birthday party, but realised, I said we would so I had to follow through! So through the tears that were welling up in my eyes, I looked up every number of every child we had sent an invitation to so I could call their mothers and cancel the invitation.

As I talked to the first mother, I began to cry as I relayed the whole incident and explained why the party was cancelled! The mothers all sympathized with me and encouraged me in telling me I was doing the right thing, I had no other choice, but I do believe it was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do! But, I won that battle!...or did I?

I am proud to say that after many bumps and bruises from her method of learning the hard way by taking the road of hard knocks, she has turned out to be a very intelligent, beautiful young lady who is married to a very sweet and polite southern raised boy! They have given me my 3 priceless grand babies, the youngest, just born 3 weeks ago, our first Grandson! My heart takes a little leap of joy whether it should or not because her 1st born daughter inherited her mom's prissy attitude, and her 2nd born daughter inherited her mom's defiance and stubborn streak, Yes! Two Beths,te he, and it is so fun to watch all that action and Beth's frustration with it! Sorry, I am a human mother! She is an awesome mother as well and now she visits and calls me quite often asking my advise on situations that arise with her children.
I won!!!!













If you need help with raising children with bad behavior and want to develop their self esteem Click Here! Or Click Here!






Stay with me for my next excerpt, the last in this series, as I share about our third child, our first son, The Literal Child!
Until we meet again, XOXOXO
MissTerraK

The Tale of Three Children Part One

Having our first child was an absolute thrill! We couldn't have asked for a more beautilful baby! She smiled and laughed all the time, when she first started talking she said Hi! to everyone she saw. I even had an elderly gentleman come up to me in the supermarket one day and told me not turn my head for a moment, because she was the kind of baby that people were looking to steal. Yeah, that was a little scary to say the least but quite a compliment!

We wanted to raise our child with the best of morals and were always telling her that she was to be kind to people no matter what, she should never hurt other people, and to always do what was right, she must never tell a lie, etc.

Then, one day it happened, our precious angel became very ill with flu like symptoms and had to be hospitalized at the tender age of two. I was very frightened and kept thinking of her when she looked well with her little golden curls shimmering in the sunlight, bouncing up and down as she ran to and fro through the backyard, listening to her precious little giggles, watching her eyes widen with wonder as she discovered a butterfly, or a grasshopper. How could this pale little girl with black circles under her eyes be the same child?

My thoughts were rudely invaded when a doctor came to us and told us she was severely dehydrated and was going to be admitted. He told us we could not go into the examining room for they had to start an IV and thought it would be best for all concerned if we just waited outside. We were new at this , so we concurred. The next thing we heard was blood curdling cries coming from the room, then another doctor go in, then 2 nurses go in and every time that door opened, we heard our little angel screaming, "Don't hurt me, you are bad, you're not supposed to hurt people, you're supposed to be nice to people, that's not nice!"

I was conflicted in knowing how to feel, knowing our little darling had heard everything we had taught her and was now teaching others, and knowing that she was suffering pain on top of her illness! Finally, the doctor told us they had a very hard time getting her IV in and it took two doctors, two nurses, and the resident to hold her down to get that IV in. I had to chuckle inside for this was a sick 2 year old baby girl giving them a run for their money and lecturing all those adults on proper behavior!

Did she stop there? Oh no, as she could not keep anything in, it was coming back out from both ends and needless to say, the nurses wanting to make their job a tad bit easier wanted to put a diaper on her. However she now was totally potty trained and quite proud of her accomplishment and took it off every time they put one on her telling them that she was a big girl now, not a baby! Babies wore diapers and she would not, she was a big girl! The nurses complained to us telling us their dilemma in having to change her sheets atleast five times a day! I just told them she was a sensitive child and they were demeaning her when they told her she had to wear diapers! They could try, but I was not going to make her wear them, this wonderful obediant child of mine!

I still look back at that incident and chuckle, go ahead and say shame on me, I don't mind, I'm a mother and it delighted me so for her to give back a little pain that had been given her!

Now, at some point in every child's life comes the battle of doing what is right, or doing what is wrong, and the temptation is just too great to do the right thing! Brooke's happened about three years later. Her daddy and I had just returned from doing the grocery shopping and had put them all away when one of her siblings needed attention down the hall. When we took care of the problem and came back to the living room, her father said very sternly, "Brooke, did you get into the pantry and eat something without permission?"

She shook her head no with very guilty looking wide eyes! Her daddy then went to the pantry to have a look and I noticed her trying to swallow desparately. Upon his return, he held a box of chocolate Teddy Grahams that obviously had been opened. He asked her if she was sure and again she shook her head. He then told her to open her mouth and she opened it wide with confidence that the evidence now lie in her stomach where daddy's probing eyes could not see. Daddy said, "Then what is the black stuff on your back teeth?" She instantly started bawling and ran to her room realizing she had been caught. About half an hour later, we went to her room and she told us that she felt all yucky inside because she lied. Her daddy told her that he thought that that was punishment enough for her, she wouldn't be getting a spanking. And that was a lesson learned well, as we never caught her in another lie!

She has grown up to be a beautiful young woman who graduated Salutatorian of her class, went on to college for evangelism, and is a missionary to young children in the Phillipines. She is married to an awesome young man who is a youth pastor and just breaking into the film industry that he majored in college for!









How can children raised in the same house, by the same parents, in the same way be completely different? Stay with me for Part 2 - The Strong Willed Child!
Till we meet again, XOXOXO
MissTerraK

Love and Marriage

After having been married for 26 years, many ask me, "How do you do it?" I tell them that being married and loving someone is a decision! After the honeymoon period is long gone, and the person you married seems to be different from the one you dated and said the big yes to, you have to decide to love this person!
Let me explain, You are fuming mad at your spouse over something and have been voicing that to him or her, heatedly, and quite loudly when all of a sudden, the phone rings! You answer it and it is your best friend, you talk to them just as excitedly and as sweetly as you do all the other times they call! Are you fuming mad at them, are you still angry and yelling? No!...Why?...Because you have chosen not to be, just as you chose to be mad at your spouse! Compelling stuff there, huh?
Also, with both of us having come from divorced homes, we didn't want our children to experience the same inner feelings of insecurity and all the other baggage that forms along with it, so we made a vow to one another...That divorce was not an option! What ever the problem, we would work through it (with the exception of infidelity or physical abuse!)
Next, we have to understand that a marriage is like a bank account! What this means is that if we haven't made any deposits, then we cannot make a withdrawal, as there is a zero balance, nothing to withdraw!
Lastly, but most certainly not the least, is that God has saved our marriage! We dedicated our union, our becoming as one flesh to Him, trying to have the type of marriage that Paul exhorts us to have in Ephesians chapter 5 verses 21-33. And remembering that a 3 fold cord is not easily broken! That would be 1) you, 2) your spouse and 3) God!
Is it easy? No Way baby! Is it doable? You betcha!
Thanks for dropping in and listening to my perspective to a happy and successful marriage!
Till we meet again, XOXOXO
MissTerraK


P.S. If you are having any type of problem in your marriage please Click Here! Or
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Meet MissTerraK

Hi, I am very new to this, so just let me start out by saying that I have been married for 26 years, have 3 very unique children, 3 adorable grandchildren who call me Nana. I don't believe I fit the stereotypical grandmother so Nana it is LOL!
I am a very fun loving, adventurous, pink loving, girlie girl. I absolutely love my femininity, oh yeah, I have womanly wiles and I know how to use em!
I love all kinds of music, love to dance, swim, water ski, read, and when inspired, write poetry!
I love sparkly things which leads to: I can't get enough jewelry, shoes, clothes, purses, belts...you get the idea, right?
I am a die hard romantic, always root for the underdog, and am not afraid to admit that I love attention...I'm laying that excuse at the feet of the middle child syndrome! LOL
I am serving an awesome God and not afraid to hide it! I'm not a religious, pious, stuffed shirt...boring!! Because I am created in his image, and He is a God with a sense of humor, c'mon, you've read some of his stories in THE BOOK, right? How can anyone say God doesn't have a sense of humor??
I have a few mottoes in my life, they are as follows:
Face the world with a smile and you'll find it smiles back!
I don't care if you love me or hate me, either way, I'm always on your mind!
I am who I am, your approval not needed!
If you don't like me, I can't understand why, what about me is there not to like?, so it's your problem, not mine. Deal with it!
And lastly, Don't give me any of your attitude, I have one of my own!
Well, that's it for now,
Till we meet again, XOXOXO
MissTerraK