Bitter Sweet Memories

     I have spent all day wondering how I would go about proclaiming my love for someone, especially when that someone just recently passed away. My dad's mom passed on a few days ago. It still hasn't really sunk in for me, just yet. {I am still in that denial phase of the grieving process.}

       My grandma, Celia, was a brilliant woman. She was very soft spoken, very quiet (like my dad). She was the one who first taught me how to crochet. I was only 12 or 13, at the time. I will never forget how soft her hands were, especially for living in a climate that she had (New Mexico).
     Her and my grandpa were really close with the Navajo and Hopi people. I don't believe I have ever seen my grandma without wearing at least one piece of Native American jewelry. She wore elegant turquoise bracelets, rings, necklaces and earrings.  Her home was adorn with many Kachina dolls, Native American rugs, Tomahawks, and paintings of the Native American culture. Those are the things that I'll remember most about her. She had a great love and respect for Native American people.
     For years, my grandparents owned and managed Trading Posts across the Navajo and Hopi Nations. They made many friends with these people, so much that some of my family (including my dad) received Navajo and Hopi names. I hope that one day, I will be able to carry on this tradition with my family. I would love to receive a Navajo and/or Hopi name. According to my dad, it is a real honor and privilege to receive one.
     My dad's family grew up learning, and speaking both Hopi and Navajo languages. Every once in awhile, I will still hear my dad reciting a few Navajo words to me and my family. The language is beautiful. I wish I could write it out, but sadly it's not a written language. But what was most amazing was listening to my grandparents speak in Native tongues. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I fully enjoyed listening to the different pronunciations of each word spoken.
     I will never forget spending time looking out at the mesas with my family, and my grandma by my side.They truly are nature's beautiful artwork. Secretly, I always wanted to climb one of those things.... But I have a terrible fears of heights. I still would love to go back, and visit. I love that warm, hot and dry air that New Mexico has.

    I will always remember cooking eggs out on my grandma's sidewalk, in the middle of July. I was so fascinated by it. All she could do was laugh, and say, "Jacque, you're silly."  Man, I've gotta tell ya I love my grandparents. Miss them every single day. I have grown to love, remember and share their legacies. Love ya much, Grandma.

         

My Favorite Mother's Day Quote

     I am working on a challenge to blog every day, this month. Some of these items are random, yes, but fun at the same time. Today's theme is about sharing favorite quotes. Since Mother's Day is coming up, I thought it would be appropriate to share my favorite quote about moms. It is:

      Mothers do not need to be perfect, in order to be good moms. There are millions and millions of small things that women do for their kids that make them great. Sometimes I think we, as women, focus so much on being "perfect". We fail to see that the small good actions that we do for our kids, on a daily basis. Something as little as reading a story to your child can bring him or her closer to you, in building that mother-child relationship. 
     It is my hope that mothers everywhere will remember this quote, and remember that they are all good mothers in their own unique ways. Happy Mother's Day to you, and to all of the women in your lives.

Uncomfortably Awkward Situations

     Awkward situations make me feel really uncomfortable. But again, who doesn't feel uncomfortable in any awkward situation? I have experienced many of these circumstances in my life. When they happen, I just want to dig a hole and bury myself in it.
     I have especially felt uncomfortable teaching students who were either my height (5'2"), or even taller. Thus the reason I have taught Pre-K through 3rd grade... and 3rd grade was really pushing it. There is just something about turning, and seeing a kid eye to eye without bending over that's rather uncomfortable for me. The only ones who could fully comprehend this would be those of a shorter stature. If you are one of those people, are you just as uncomfortable as I?
    Another uncomfortable situation for me is running into an ex, or even worse seeing their new "lover". I have done this a number of times. My husband doesn't think it's all that bad, but for me, IT'S A NIGHTMARE. When running into these individuals, we always seem to give our awkward hellos. Then size each other up to see who is doing better than the other. Does anyone else in this world agree that this is extremely uncomfortable?
     There are a number of different ways to become uncomfortable. There are no ways around it, but work your way through it... Or try to avoid them, at all costs. But for some of us, we should just laugh well after the situation is over. Like I do!!!! Now let's get our sillies out by watching this short video by Studio C.

     

Difficult Child-Birth: Putting the Lives of myself and my baby into doc's hands

     I would like to take you back to the evening of April 14th, 2009. I was 24 years old, and very much in labor with my first child. Just a year earlier, I graduated with a Bachelor's Degree in Family Life & Human Development with an Emphasis in Early Childhood Development. I went into this pregnancy; and labor with the knowledge of the coulds, the could nots, the shoulds, and the should nots. One thing that I almost regretted that very night.
     When I arrived at the hospital, I couldn't even walk. I was in so much pain that my husband and a nurse wheeled me in. After being checked, I was told that I was dilated at an 8, and 100% effaced. The nurse and OBGYN were certain that Brooklee would be born real soon. They both turned to my husband, and said that I should have been admitted much earlier than I had been.
     I was rushed into delivery, where for hours I pushed and pushed but nothing happened. I was loosing a lot of blood, and Brooklee was "stressed". I laid there listening to my doctor and nurses converse, using words that "only medical professionals understand"... {I think they use those words to keep their patients calm}. Little did they know, I knew and understood most of what they were discussing. Words describing my condition, and the condition of my unborn baby. These words were not good, they were words that would just about terrify anyone. My baby and I were slowly dying.
     I remember looking up at my doctor's face. I knew he was trying to keep his composure as he said, "Your baby is stuck, and she is stressed. Her heart-rate has dropped dramatically, 3 times. We only have two options now. We can either do an emergency c-section, or use forceps." Laying there exhausted and worn out, I fought with every strength that I had to push back the tears. That's when I asked, "If you were me, what would you do?" He answered, "The forceps!"  Knowing full well the pros and cons to each option, I said, "Go for it." Those next few minutes, the lives of my daughter and myself were put in that man's hands. I cannot describe the fear that I had felt, not knowing if my daughter would be born alive... and even if I would live long enough to even see her face. I remember saying a little prayer in my heart, and the next thing I knew Brooklee was here. Oh, and she was such a beautiful little thing. Perfect in every way. I was so very lucky to hold her, and tell her "Hi Brooklee. I'm your mommy!" That's when the tears just started streaming down my face. I was so relieved to know that she was going to be okay.
    What a blessing, what a miracle! If it wasn't for that doctor, I wouldn't have the amazing little family that I have. I am so grateful.