Scrapbook Templates

My oldest DD (the mother of the beautiful baby pictured below) has decided to try her hand at digital scrapbooking and has asked me to help her learn how to use the PSPX and PSE on her computer. After thinking about her question "Where do I start?" I finally determined that it might be best that she start with templates. Rather than "share" the templates that I have collected over the past year or so, I told her I would send her the links to the sites where I find all my best templates. Since I reference them from time to time here, I figured y'all might like these sites also. So here they are, in no particular order:

Misty Cato
Val's Blog
ConnyB's Place
Ikeagoddess

Here's a great site with PSP tutorials

I'll try to post some more links later. But for now, I have two reports to finish up before morning. Good night everyone! :)

I'm a Nonny again!

Last Tuesday night, my oldest DD gave birth to her second child, another son. Both DD and baby Judah are doing great! And he's absolutely beautiful. Here's his first scrap page I made this weekend, using Misty Cato's template:



His daddy wanted his first pictures taken in a pair of overalls. However, the size 0 overalls he bought for him swollowed the poor little guy up. So I used a denim background for the scrap page; it's the closest thing to overalls I could do! *LOL*

Negligent Blogger Again?

Not really, although I know it seems like it. I'm working on another blog, one for a more specific purpose, for my adult DD. I'll post a link here when I get it up and running. I don't want to bring y'all down by reading my rants on this blog. You see, I'm starting to realize that I'm having difficulty in finding humor in anything. Usually, I can find sarcastic humor in just about anything. I usually don't take myself seriously. And I usually don't worry. But the "mom" in me has kicked in with a fury. And I realize I need a release. So I'm going to blog all this hurt, worry and pain out of my system. Maybe then, I can let go of some of this and get back to my old self.

In order to do so, I'm going to write letters to my DD. I can't talk to her these days, because this bright, beautiful, intelligent young lady is suffering some natural consequences for behaviors and choices made over the past year or two. The ultimate demon behind these behaviors is addiction, an illness that she continues to deny and for which she continues to refuse treatment.

Some of her excuses include:
Treatment would take her away from her friends; and she's simply unwilling to make such a sacrifice. Treatment would involve new friends who might not understand her undying devotion to her fiance, who, btw, she can only see when she visits the county lock-up. Treatment would include admission that she has a problem, which she is unwilling to do because she considers that "a lie". She considers her only problems to be a result of her parents not loving her enough to make bail for her boyfriend and pay off and buy back her repossessed car.

After being "missing" for several months with no contact, she is finally calling again. I should be thankful; at least I know she is alive. But EVERY time she calls, it's to curse, scream, cry, blame, intimidate, and attempt to guilt one of us into a cash donation to further fuel her illness and lack of accountability. When we refuse this, and offer other alternatives like treatment, she angrily hangs up the phone and disappears again for several days.

The calls are coming more frequently. So I know she must be getting closer to that perverbial "rock bottom" that addicts must often reach before change. But she's still not willing to change her lifestyle in order to change her life. So the angry hang up is coming much sooner in the call than before. Of course, it probably doesn't help when she continues to cry out, "What are you going to do to fix this mess?" and I reply, "Let us help you help yourself to work through it." That's usually when I get the angry, "You're my mother! I just need you to fix this mess!" and then the hang up.

It hurts. It hurts to hear her like this. It hurts to not be able to wave a magic mommy-wand and make it all go away. It hurts that in my attempts not to enable her, she believes that I don't care or don't love her. It also hurts to hear all the lies, the excuses and the denial. And probably the worst pain of all is having a daughter who is a total stranger, a person I feel I don't even know.

I know I didn't cause this, can't control it and can't cure it. But I also know that her addiction is taking a lot out of me. Therefore, I will blog while I continue to pray that someday, somehow, she will come around.

My Father

I have a sign in my office that says "My father taught me how to fly." It's somewhat a play on words. But it's also very much the definition of my life because he taught me to "fly" both literally and figuratively. Dad did fly planes. And he took me up to let me try my piloting skills in my first flight before I was ever old enough to drive a car. I grew up hearing "...it's like flying a plane, honey" as the answer to various questions about life and relationships. But he also taught me that flying is not just about planes, it's an attitude. It's an outlook. It's a way of living one's life and keeping perspective while doing so.

Due to some recent life and local events, I was thinking about parenthood on my way to work. My mind drifted off to my own parents. And it suddenly occurred to me, I was born to perfect parents. I kid you not! There was never any drinking, cursing, name calling, or judgement. They modeled appropriate behaviors, responses, and attitudes. My folks always did and still to this day, epitomize the definition of love with both family and friends.

I didn't appreciate my folks during my teen years. I considered them to be hyper-conservative, over-protective and terribly backwards. Sometime during college, I started wondering why it was that I was the one getting a college education, but yet my parents, neither of which ever went to college, seemed to be getting so much smarter while I was away. They could never help me with my chemistry or my calculus. But they were far wiser than any of my professors. It was mind-boggling! They couldn't teach me anything the university taught me. But they taught me something far more valuable....how to fly.

Anyways, while thinking about this in my car, this song came on the radio by Aaron Tippin. I was totally blown away because this song was written about MY father. All the expressions in the song are ones that I grew up hearing daily. So I came home and looked up the song. You can only imagine my shock when I watched the video! It explained how I got to where I am today and how much truth there is in that sign hanging in my office. My father taught me how to fly. And I'm realizing more and more each day that I've gained most of my education while flying. And now I fly in life and no longer need a plane to do so because of how Dad believed.

I've been truly blessed and will forever be grateful for my parents, despite the ignorance of my teen years :)

I leave you today with one of many of my Dad's sage pieces of advice:
"...it's just like flying a plane, honey. Altitude is always dependent upon attitude, both in the plane and in life."