Happy 11th Birthday, Calleigh

My Sweet Calleigh Bird,

Tomorrow, you turn 11. I'm not sure how this happened. It wasn't that long ago we were bringing you home, learning how to be parents, and now, we've crossed the half-way mark. You'll live with us for about eight more years and then you'll be gone. And honestly, a few of those precious eight years you won't be with us, making us laugh, drawing pictures at the kitchen table, and sharing your hopes and dreams. You'll be off with friends and out and about. So I kind of want to grab you as you walk by and pull you onto my lap and never let go. But that's creepy and impractical so I will soak you up. I'll sniff your hair when you're close. I'll stop whatever I'm doing to play a game. I'll listen intently as you tell me a story. And I'll will time to stop in its tracks or at least slow down.

As much as I begrudge time for constantly moving forward, I do cherish the ways you've grown and developed. You have a deep and impossibly convincing belief in Santa, the Tooth Fairy and, really, all Fae folk. Either your friends and the world have hardened your heart and you're just the best actress in the world, or you've chosen to believe. Either way, I think you've made the right choice.

Christmas 2014

I love that you love the ocean. And I remind you every time we're there that the sea can remind you of your place and heal a lot of hurts. It puts life in perspective and is a great medicine. And it's fun.

  

You've accepted that you can be both a tomboy and a girly girl. I hope you never feel you have to choose just one. Neither the aisles at Target nor the world can label this girl.

  

You write me notes. Sometimes they make me laugh:

And I've gotten more than one like this (you come by your anger and temper issues honestly. You can thank your Irish heritage.):

Know this:  I keep every one.

You believe in angels. It started when you were very young, maybe two or three years old. You'd just started talking and were obsessed with Disney Princesses. We were reading Cinderella and got to the last page where she gets married. You pointed to her dress excitedly and said, "angel!" I said somewhat bewildered "you think she looks like an angel?" And you answered, "no, Mommy, that's what the angels look like. They come in my room at night." Got chill bumps yet? Welcome to our world. Nowadays, you don't talk as much about the angels that way. I hope they haven't stopped coming to tell you good night. But I love that you appreciate them and fully believe and know that they walk our paths with us, guiding and protecting.

Calleigh: "Do you know who this is?"
Mommy: "An angel?"
C: "No. It's Grandmama." Angel indeed. 

Although I miss my mother so very much and think of her every, single day, I see so much of her in you. In your dimple and sweet smile, in your random acts of kindness, oh, and your temper. She would be so proud of you and the young woman you're becoming.

So, baby girl, while you're unwrapping presents and blowing out candles, I'll be watching you intently. At once, I'll see a baby who was more interested in the cards than the gifts at her first birthday party, and I'll see a teenager running out the door saying over her shoulder, "see ya later...I'm going to meet some friends" and feeling the stab of the mother who whispers after the door closes, "but it's your birthday. I thought we'd..." I know how slowly time seems to pass when you're waiting to be 12 or 15 or 18 or 21. But I also know how quickly time can pass when you love someone so desperately, so completely. Let me take "just one more picture" and let me hug you and maybe even sneak in a quick head sniff.

  

August 27, 2004

Birdie, you make every day special, just by being in it. I love you.

Mommy

Summer Report 2015

"How I Spent My Summer"

by Valerie Eagan Mangrum

35th Grade

I had a good summer. It went really fast. Here are some highlights.

"Newsies" at TPAC, May 2015. Our school put on a production of this play earlier in the month, so we thought we'd check out the real version at TPAC right after school was out for summer. Turns out, it's pretty annoying. It's always fun to go to the theatre, though.

We enjoyed the pool and had many friends and family over.

Our main TV broke and, while waiting the couple of weeks it took to get the repair done, we reenacted this scene from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Yes, we have several TVs from which to choose, but we found ourselves in bed most nights, all snuggled up together. No gold wrappers but plenty of  laughs and "scoot over's."

The TV wasn't the only thing to betray us. We also found ourselves without a dishwasher for a couple of weeks. Mommy was heard to say, "it's OK...people lived for centuries without such a convenience" and also, "I'm going to stab the next person who uses a real glass. There are plastic cups on the counter for a reason!"

We played summer ball. And got sports glasses. That we wore this one time. Take a good look as I doubt you'll ever see her wear them again.

We camped in Gatlinburg with friends. This picture was taken from the skylift tram on the way back down to Gatlinburg from Ober Gatlinburg. You can't see it so don't strain but, as we were passing over here, the conductor announced that there was a mama bear and some cubs just under us. That was neat, but I couldn't take my eyes off of this other spectacular sight.

Oh, Father's Day. For a good description of the difference between Mother's Day and Father's Day, watch one of The Middle's episodes on the topic:  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1627779/. Never seen The Middle? Stop what you're doing right now and find it on Netflix. The gist:  Father's Day is a day when Dads get to rest, eat, get presents....kind of like Mother's Day without all of the screaming and cleaning.

Calleigh attended several summer camps, including the YMCA's Camp Widjiwagan. This was the last day of camp when parents are invited to come partake in some of the activities alongside their campers.

Calleigh and I were in a wreck on the interstate in downtown Nashville. It wasn't bad and there were no injuries. As if Nashville traffic isn't bad enough, there's always construction and lanes that narrow and merge with little or no warning. This picture was taken from the ending lane where an out-of-towner failed to merge and sideswiped us. I have educated my girl that, when in a wreck, regardless of who's at fault, the first words out of your mouth when you jump out of the car should be, "is everyone OK?" My first words when I got out? "Did you not see that you were supposed to merge back there?! Are you OK?" 

Calleigh and I spotted this in Walmart one day and it brought us joy and giggles throughout the summer.

We had playdates with friends, new and old. This one brought back so many memories of when they were young. Still ravenous. but young.

This is from a visit to Mammoth Cave. Want to make Calleigh laugh? Ask her, "what should you do when you kick someone?"

Mammoth Cave was just one trip. We went on many. Different places, but the same soundtrack:  "how much farther?" "Why do you have so many bags?" "What's that smell?"

This is from Fun Day with our Girl Scout Troop at one of the Girl Scout Camps here in Middle Tennessee. You wouldn't know it from the pretty shadows and dapples of sunshine in this pic, but a few hours later, we drove home in an EF-1 tornado. I learned what it means to "white knuckle it" and fully felt like this:

We practiced for our upcoming soccer season. Oh, not all summer. Just this once.

In preparation for 5th grade and entering Middle School, we attended the much-anticipated "Locker Decoration Day." Two words:  Pure chaos. And glitter.

On the rare occasion that my husband actually listens to me, he took my suggestion that he get a scooter to save on gas mileage to work and ran with it.

I kicked a homeless person out of my house. Not really. It was just my kid who went from one (extremely) regretful day when she asked, "can I sleep on the couch tonight?" and I said, "sure" to a week or so later when I said, "I don't care where you sleep tonight, but it's not in the living room. You have to go." 

There are these silly girls. Not only do dogs sleep in the same direction, but they also have a knack for plopping down right where you're walking, vaccuming, etc.

I went school uniform shopping with a bipolar person. "Get out of here!" "Where are you going? I need you to look at this?" "Don't look!"

A day at the paint your own pottery place + a Christmas orament + the question, "what do you think I should put on it?" My suggestion? "How about our names? Or, maybe a Bible verse?" The end product...the names of our Elf on the Shelf elves. So much for the reason for the season.

My sweet Daddy had cataract surgery. That makes him seem old, but he's not. It was a success by all accounts and measures and, for the first time in his life, at least the years he remembers, he's able to see without glasses. Hooray for the doctors and nurses who made this happen and the God who guided their hands.

Here's what he looks like now...give or take a few years.

We saw some movies. The good? Hmm, maybe Jurassic World? The bad and downright ugly? How long do you have? Tomorrowland, Inside Out, Paper Towns...

A visit to Huntsville to the Space Center was fun and educational. This was educational.

And this was fun. You know those "up/down" rides? They go up, then they fall, then they go up again. Well, this was the Granddaddy of them all. It was crazy high and you FLEW up as though you were strapped to the shuttle itself. Big fun.

One last electronic that failed me this summer was my trusty Macbook Pro. He bit the dust. A new one is on its way, but I've been without my own computer for most of the summer now. And you know what? Except for missing blogging and uploading pictures and occasionally catching up with you fools on Facebook, I didn't really miss it. I read. And spent time outside. And I even enjoyed my family from time to time.

All in all, it was a great summer break.

Stuck in the Middle with You

In just over a week, my sweet girl will be heading off for 5^th grade. Middle School. A new frontier. A new chapter. And one notoriously fraught with academic challenges, peer pressure, girl bullies and acne. I'd like someone to tell me that they had a great middle school experience. Of all my friends, we unanimously recounted stories of going through hideously unflattering growth spurts, being at our absolute most awkward, and just having a general, overwhelming feeling of not knowing where we fit in or where we stood. I pray that things have changed for the better and that my girl will avoid some of this. Or maybe I don't. It didn't kill me so, per the pearl of wisdom, it made me stronger, right? And who wants to peak in middle school? Maybe it's just a rite of passage. Regardless, I pray that it's as smooth as possible for my baby girl.

I want her to learn to say “no” and also to hear “no.” I want her to learn to be a good friend and a good person and a good student. I want her to spread her wings, even if she's destined to spiral to the ground a few times. I want her to give it her absolute best, her all, and then know the disappointment when she learns it still wasn't enough. I guess I want her to know the feeling of liking someone more than they like her. I want her to know the feeling of being left out so it's harder for her to leave others out. I want her to fall and I want her to think that anyone who says, “it's not how many times you fall, but how many times you get up that counts” is a jackhole. I want all of these things for her...just not all in the same day, as I feel I experienced some of them. That, to me, is what Middle School is. One, big, awful learning experience. And, looking back, math, and history and English were but a small part of the education I received. The rest were practical, sometimes awful, life lessons. The kinds you're not tested on immediately. It's the kind you can't study for and that you don't really know it's happening until it's over. Sometimes a day. Sometimes a decade.

I lost a lot of things – just things, but things all the same – when my Dad's house caught fire in 2010. Want to relive that? Check out this old blog post. I lost my wedding dress. My Mom's wedding dress. Most of my childhood pictures. And almost all of my yearbooks. But you know one I have? Yep. 5^th grade. So, in thinking about this new journey my girl is about to undertake, I took a little stroll down memory lane. Won't you come with me?

I won't start a whole thing here. Suffice it to say, we're now the Panthers.

In my day, we carried and used books and pencils and paper. Now, it's all iPad.
I wonder if lockers and backpacks will be replaced with charging stations?

Hopefully, the hair will be better. It can't be much worse. Wings, mullets and hairspray? Oh, my!

Girls Basketball shorts have gotten longer...

...but these volleyball shorts are darn near capri pants compared to today's v-ball shorts.
Have you seen them? Of course you haven't. 
They're non-existent! Boys wresting onesies cover more.

This was the school's first computer club. Now, we don't even have a computer club. That's how far we've come. I'm guessing they thought these monstrosities and the floppy disks were really fancy typewriters and these kids could probably not imagine that in a mere 30 years, every student, from little bitty to seniors would be doing all of their work on one of these that they carry in their hand.

Not to sound like Donald Trump, but he's right. You can't sneeze nowadays without offending someone.  I liked that we held mock elections during the presidential race, complete with signs and masks, and hope that we will continue to teach our kids about government and the importance of voting.

Something I'm glad hasn't changed and hope never will is our school's tradition of Spiritual Emphasis Week. It's a week dedicated to bringing in Christian singers, entertainers and speakers and turning more of our focus to Christ. We're a college prep school with an inclusive Christian environment all year 'round. This means students and teachers can pray, hold devotions, the kids have daily chapel, read the Bible, and you can talk about your faith in an open and safe forum. They say the Pledge of Allegiance every day and you'd better believe they say "one nation under God." But during this week, even more focus is turned to this facet of the kids' education. In my day, we had "new" singers like Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant.

So, baby girl, I wish you the very best in Middle School. There will be bumps. That is the truth. I just pray you learn to dust yourself off and get back in there.

Love,
Mommy

Father's Day: What's Missing?

As my Facebook feed and TV screen are filled with images from the Charleston church shooting, I think of fathers. It could be that tomorrow is the day that our society (or the greeting card and necktie industries) decided to honor Dads, but that’s where my thoughts are.

I’m saddened for the families of the nine victims. Those who lost their fathers and the fathers who lost their wives, mothers, and sisters.

Although we like to try to minimize any attention on the perpetrator in situations like this, as if by withholding the spotlight, we will in some small way slight them by denying any notoreity, I think we should do the opposite. I don’t want to see the shooter’s mugshot plastered everywhere. I don’t want to see his weird bowl cut hairdo or his racist bumper stickers. What I want to see are pictures of him as a child. I want to see him embracing a toy truck on Christmas morning. I want to see him eating watermelon at a summer picnic. I want to see him next to a sandcastle on a summer vacation. I want to see a picture of him with his Dad, rebuilding a 1962 Corvette. I want to try to see where it all went wrong.

In the news reports that have emerged since Wednesday’s shooting, we’ve been told that the shooter attained a .45-caliber Glock shortly after his 21st birthday, two months ago. In one report, he purchased the gun himself. In another, it was his father who gave it to him. I wonder, did the senior Roof know what evil his son might commit with this gift? 

In a statement this week, the shooter’s uncle was quoted as saying, “his mother never raised him to be like this...I’d be the executioner myself if they would allow it.” Well, that’s fine and all, but were you a strong role model for your nephew these last 21 years?

I want to hear from the shooter’s friend, Joey Meek, and maybe his father. Joey overheard the shooter on several occasions spanning years spouting racist comments and plotting to “do something.” After a night of intemperance and drunken ranting, this friend was apparently so concerned that he hid Roof’s gun for a period of time, eventually returning it. I want to know if this friend’s Dad ever overheard any of this kind of talk. Did he say to his own son, “you need to make better choices when it comes to friends?”

To the community in the shooter’s hometown of Columbia, I would ask, “did you do enough?” Did you see or hear anything that was an early indicator to the evil that was growing within this person? He had prior drug charges, was banned from an area mall, he was held back in school, he possibly changed his middle name, he donned white supremacist insignia. If anyone was looking for a sign, there were about five right there.

I know it’s not popular, but I’m going to say it. Our country needs help and the kind of help it needs is fathers. We need families again. We need Moms and Dads. We need positive male role models. We need a strong leader for this country. And we need the number one Father for the country and our world brought back to the center. So, this Father’s Day, I’ll wrap up a virtual tie for my Father, along with a prayer that He heal our hearts and our souls, that He fortify us to resist and fight the devil when he tries to infiltrate our perimeter, and that we, as a nation, can make Him the foundation upon which everything we say, do, or create is built.