Floyd has a quick commute each morning around 10 a.m. between the two schools where he teaches.  And nearly every day for the past year-plus that he’s been making that trip, he gives me a call at that time, usually just to say hi.  I have to say I sometimes take these little calls for granted.  I kind of started to think about that the past couple of weeks when my 10 a.m. calls have been a bit more hit-or-miss.  My days doing the news are usually so busy that I don’t often get the chance to think about anything else.  And when Floyd’s teaching, he can’t take time for a phone call.  So I really do appreciate it when he makes that effort.  It’s those little things that make your day seem to go better right from the start.

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One of my favorite things about fall is all things pumpkin.  I love just about everything pumpkin-flavored .  And I dig pumpkin scented candles, lotions, you name it!  A couple years ago, a friend of mine introduced me to this super simple pumpkin fall treat.  So I thought I’d share!

Pumpkin Dip

1 large can pumpkin pie filling (If you want to use a small can, just cut the rest of the ingredient amounts in half)

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

1 bar fat-free cream cheese

1-2 tbsps. cinnamon (approx.  Can add more if needed)

1 tsp. pumpkin spice (optional)

Blend the ingredients together with a hand or stand mixer until smooth.  Then scoop a dollop onto a plate and serve with either graham crackers or ginger snap cookies.  Delicious!

 

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One of the nitpicky things about living with any other person, particularly your significant other/spouse, is agreeing on what TV shows to watch.  It’s sad, in a way.  But let’s face it:  we’re a nation that likes our tube.  Heck, thank goodness that’s the case or I wouldn’t have a career!  

As previously noted in my post “Remote Decisions”, sometimes the “what to watch” issue has been in a hot-button issue in our household.  Silly as it sounds, the DVR has been a thing of beauty.  Instead of separating ourselves to watch our own thing, we can both watch the Cardinals ball game (which if you don’t follow baseball–is becoming a pretty exciting thing!  We’re one-and-a-half games back in the wild card race!)  Then we can DVR anything else that’s on that either of us want to watch.  I can watch my shows on Friday when I’m off work and he’s teaching.  And he can watch his stuff on Sunday while he’s off and I’m working.  Again, it’s pitiful in a way– I realize that.  But when the crisp fall weather sets in, sometimes you just want to snuggle down and catch up on your favorite shows.

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I grew up in a small town in northeast Missouri.  And some of the people I know and love, who still live there, don’t like it too much when I say I’ll never move back.  It’s not because I’m not grateful for all the wonderful experiences my small-town upbringing brought me, it’s just because I’ve grown accustomed to and fond of having bigger city conveniences close at hand.  You can get to Target, a mall, a wide variety of restaurants within just a few minutes in bigger communities.  Back in my hometown, the closest shopping mall is 45 minutes away.  There’s one grocery store, which closes at 8 p.m., and the list goes on. 

But one thing I think growing up in a small town does to you that is both good and bad, is it gives you this sort of feeling that you’re safe.  No matter where you may travel, you tend to think that you’ll be okay.  It’s nice to have such an optimistic Polyanna view of the world, but as we all know–total safety doesn’t really exist anywhere.  We are all vulnerable to the unexpected. 

Late last week, Floyd’s twin brother was waiting outside his construction job site in St. Louis when he and a co-worker became the victims of an armed robbery.  Thankfully, neither of them was hurt in the incident.  But certainly, when anyone or anyone you know and love goes through something so harrowing, it really makes you stop & think–about life in this big picture, about the people you love, and the way you live.  Floyd’s brother and co-worker were two of nine people their armed robber targeted that morning. 

I found myself not only praying for the victims—that this would be one of those “aha” moments life offers where we take a good hard look at what really matters most and realize that our time here really is limited and we have no idea when it will end.  But I also began thinking about the robber.  I don’t know how anyone could so callously attack random people in hopes of gaining maybe a few bucks, some credit cards and cell phones.  It must take an extreme sense of desperation to resort to such activity.  But I really do, in a way, empathize with this person.  He certainly needs prayer, too.  And perhaps at some point, these crimes he’s committed will be an “aha” moment for him too, and get him to lead a radically different lifestyle.  Who knows?  But that small town “Polyanna” viewpoint rooted in me tends to hope for the best.  And maybe in the end, everyone involved in these incidents will stop & think…and make forward, positive life progress as a result.

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I have been pretty emotionally stable (I think!) during this pregnancy.  I don’t cry at the drop of a hat or get easily angered.  In fact, other than the obvious weight gain and some puffy feet/fingers–I feel pretty “normal” for the most part.  But like just about any woman, a very sweet gesture can get me teared up.

For my birthday weekend, my parents were here.  They had purchased a mattress for Drake’s crib, so we were finally able to put it all together and make it start looking like a room for him. 

But that’s not what got me.  Sunday, on my actual birthday, I worked a long day covering a fire in Allison.  When I came home I was hungry and exhausted.  I saw a pink and purple gift bag on the counter and I said, “Aw.. You didn’t have to do anything.  This weekend has been great.”  And he said, “What?  It wasn’t me,” and was acting really silly.  Our dog Aleah was jumping all over me so being silly right back I said, “Aleah, did you get me a birthday present?”  I opened the two cards sitting in front of the gift bag.  The first was a sweet card from Floyd.  When I opened the second– I figured out where Floyd was going with this and I started to tear up.  It was a “Happy birthday to mom” card.  It was really cute and sweet.  This is the message that was written inside…

In the gift bag, was a cute little outfit set, that said “Bananas over Mommy.”  It was just another one of those things that made this whole parenthood-to-be experience feel very real.  And it also made me look forward to the new meaning birthdays will take on from here on out.  I remember making macaroni necklaces and posters and coupon booklets for my parents as a kid.  It will be wonderful to see what treasures Drake will give me for birthdays to come.  This one was certainly a good start.

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Today, our nation marks an historic occasion.  It was 10 years ago that America came under attack like never before.  On September 11, 2001, terrorists hijacked commercial airliners to wreak havoc and kill nearly 3,000 people.  On that day and the days that followed, there was a sweeping feeling of patriotism and determination to defeat our enemies, keeping this the land of the free and home of the brave forever. 

Most of us will never forget where we were on 9/11.  It holds the same historical significance for many as the Pearl Harbor bombings of World War II, the assassination of JFK and MLK and seeing the first man walk on the moon. 

For me, September 11th will always be a bit unique, though.  That fateful day back in 2001 was my 17th birthday.  Ever since, when I tell people it’s my birthday or on what day it falls, I typically get a reaction of something like, “That really stinks” or “I’m so sorry”.  But it honestly doesn’t bother me.  As I point out to people, it will only begin to bother me when people stop apologizing to me for having a 9/11 birthday.  I know there will come a day in my lifetime, and probably in the not-so-distant future, where a generation of young people will have no idea why September 11th is significant.  My nephews were born on 9/11 two years ago.  They will only learn about this historical event through what their parents tell them and what the history books will eventually write.  They will not have lived through it as we have.  They’re in the “Post-9/11″ generation.  It’s almost unfathomable for me to even think about that.

9/11 brought forward so many teachable moments to those of us that lived through it.  We remembered things like– Freedom isn’t free… Complete security is unattainable… Heroes do exist and shine in the darkest of days… We cannot take one moment for granted… and the list goes on and on.  It’s hard to put ourselves back into our 2001 shoes and remember what that felt like in some ways.  We get so caught up in the problems of the here and now to think about it all I suppose. 

Yes, this is my birthday.  And I hope –that not because of me—you never forget it, and how you felt that day one decade ago.

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Just writing that title makes me feel old!  It was back on September 8, 2001 that a guy named Floyd Mashek made his way into my life.  We’ve been through SO MUCH together.  When we met, I was just starting my junior year in high school and was a few days shy of turning 17.  I know to a lot of people this seems so crazy, but I had gone through some of the crumbiest relationships at a young age that I was ready for something real.  I’d been cheated on, stood up, taken advantage of, you name it.  I would literally pray to God every night that he would put someone in my life that I could be with for the long haul.  And then came Floyd.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was not easy AT ALL to convince my parents to let their 17-year-old daughter to date a 20-year-old.  I was their baby, after all.  But I reminded them that my mom was 18 and my dad 26 when they met.  (And they were married at 19 and 26).  So eventually, they agreed on the terms that our “dates” for the first few months had to be at our house.  (I agreed, but they now know I snuck in a few visits at his house and elsewhere here and there too.)  Floyd was SO QUIET around my family when we first started dating.  My parents were fond of him, though.  And they actually invited him to go along with us on a family vacation over Christmas to New Orleans.  It was there that my parents really got to know the Floyd I knew, and they started falling in love with him just as I was. 

  I was a cheerleader in high school, and my mom and Floyd spent a lot of time in the car together riding to basketball games to watch me cheer.  He even came with my parents to Columbia, Mo. when our basketball teams made state finals, and I competed in district drama the same weekend.  We had a lot of fun, and I became more and more confident with each passing month that we really were in this for the long haul.  

We went off to separate colleges, but both in St. Louis.  We spent weekends visiting each other.  And part way through my second year at college, Floyd made me the happiest woman alive and proposed.  And I guess as they say, the rest is history.

 

But honestly– I wouldn’t take back or change one moment of it.  We’ve had a GREAT ride together.  It hasn’t always been easy, and we’ve gone through a lot of changes together.  (And those will just keep coming now that we’re parents-to-be!)  Floyd has stood by me when I’ve cried for no reason, when I’ve lost loved ones, when I had to move away from him to take my first TV job, and all the moves that have followed.  I always say that I love him so much because he’s so willing to let me follow my crazy dreams.  He’s become my best friend in the world.  I trust him with all my heart.  And I’m excited to see what each new decade we spend together brings.

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I love my job or I wouldn’t do it.  But some days are certainly easier and more enjoyable than others.  For nearly the past three weeks, it’s been a little more on the challenging side.  Somehow, I’ve drawn the cards of telling the stories of four terrible tragedies involving children.

9-year-old Bodee Peterson of Hudson killed in a skiing accident on Eagle Lake 19-year-old Marcellus Andrews of Waterloo beaten to death 15-year-old Paxton Miller of Waverly killed in a car accident 14-year-old Ramone Bryant of Coralville killed in a house fire

There’s no doubt you have to develop a bit of thick skin to be in this business and have to report on these kinds of tragedies.  But I really and truly realize that each of these young people has a story–one that in life, really didn’t get much of a chance to be told.  All of them had groups of family and friends who had nothing but good things to say about their character and they way they lived their lives.  Though I knew none of them personally, it’s amazing to see the resolve and love of a community that comes out in the darkest of times so that they can support each other to somehow make it through the time of tragedy.  While time after time I can go out and report on these things and make it through myself, as a mom-to-be– it certainly has a different feeling to it now.  There’s a deeper sense of connectedness and empathizing with the families of these young people and what they must be going through.  It certainly will not get any easier to tell these kinds of stories once my little guy comes into this world.  It’s just a reminder that we have to really cherish every moment with those we love.  We cannot take anything in this life for granted– because indeed, it comes and goes too quickly. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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As our little baby boy keeps growing and his movements get stronger, it certainly makes the soon-to-be-reality of parenthood seem even more real.  But this morning, I had kind of a unique experience. 

I needed to get up extra early because of some work obligations today.  So Floyd came in to wake me up before he left for school.  He leaned over and kissed my forehead, and then once he knew I was waking up, he kissed me on the lips.  He asked if I was ready to get up or if he should set the alarm.  I said, “Yeah.  I’ll take 15 more minutes.”  No sooner than he left the room, I could feel our little guy going crazy.  He was moving left to right, kicking– you name it.  I had just read in my weekly baby progress update that at this stage, he can hear both of us and our voices are getting to be pretty familiar to him.  So it occured to me that the baby was waking up to the sound of his dad’s voice.  How awesome!  I thought to myself, “This feels like family.”

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