fourteen

I am really having trouble wrapping my brain around the concept of time.  

I really do believe that the 60 minutes I experienced in childhood were MUCH shorter than the 60 minutes we are experiencing in the 21st century.  

It was an eternity from birth to 14 for me.

But it was only about 2 years from birth to 14 for the parson's son.  

Fourteen.  The Boy is 14.  Crazy.  

But yesterday's birthday wasn't just any ole celebration.  For me, the mom, (the one who actually did all the work 14 years ago), the day was a poignant Thanksgiving Day brimming over with awe, gratefulness, and wonder. 

My status on Facebook read this way:  

Celebrating the birthday of my miracle son today. Survived birth with the umbilical cord wrapped TWICE around his neck and tied in a square knot, lives full and big even without part of his immune system, and totally thrives in life! 14 years of God's protection and mercy. I'm one grateful mom.

His journey has been anything but easy.  But his challenges changed the gear mechanism of our home.  And that, in turn, created a new environment...a better environment...a more purposeful environment.  As a result, we are all much better people.

We learned that nothing in life is guaranteed and that, in order to fulfill our destiny, each day must be lived with laser-sharp clarity and focused intention.   

And, in return, we received the privilege of sharing life with a wonderful, funny, kind, brilliant, old soul who consistently amazes us with his junior-high edition of wise intuition. 

I love him fiercely.

the un-decorator

Look, Mom!
 Look what I found on the Christmas tree!
You were so kind to get me a toy that I could chew up and ruin.
You really shouldn't have.....

What in the world do you mean?
This tag doesn't say, "To Roxy?"
Of all the nerve!
I am so hurt.

black friday

The Parson's Daughter is crazy.

She makes about $2 per day and decides to go Save Money by staying up all night and doing the Black Friday shopping thing in order to Wisely Spend her Christmas shopping money.

She ends up Saving Money on stuff that nobody needs or wants, the only thing that lasts out of her shopping experience is the Nasty Cold that she gets while shopping in the pre-dawn rain, and she winds up Cranky and Disgruntled.

But far be it from her to ever consider NOT shopping before dawn on Black Friday.

No, indeed!

There is a twisted sort of Heroism and Inflated Self Worth that envelopes my Black Friday Shopping Daughter.  She has braved the weather and the crazies and has Survived.  She has Saved Money.  (It is totally irrelevant that she will only use her purchases one time before shoving them under the bed, in the closet, or on another poor soul who thinks they need It.  It is also totally irrelevant that if her purchase is given as a gift, it is likely not really even wanted by the recipient.)

I love my Daughter and cherish every opportunity I have to be with her and make memories.  But let it be known that there is a Line I will not Cross.

There is No Way I'm ever gonna do that Black Friday shopping thing.

You can write that down in your Little Black Book.

and melani begat kendra

of all the haunting moments

of motherhood, 

few rank

with hearing your own words

come out of

your daughter's mouth.

~victoria secunda

peace

peace.

it does not mean to be in a place

where there is no noise, trouble

or hard work.  it means to be in

the midst of those things and still

be calm in your heart.

(unknown. taken from a catalog cover)

Where have I been?

I do not know.

But it obviously hasn't been on theparsonshouse blog.  Couldn't believe it when I realized I had not posted on here in 2 months.  Time is Flying.  Literally.  It has to be.

So. . .since I haven't had time to get really Crafty with my Words, I will just reassure that I still have an abundance of them rolling around in my head and occasionally flooding out of my mouth and hopefully will get them to this site in the next few days.

I mean, don't hold your breath or anything.  They probably won't rock your world.  The Parsons House has been a bit quiet lately due to the fact that when the Inhabitants enter through the back door, they immediately fall in a heap until it is time to rush back out the door to attend to another Duty and Function.

She's Twenty!

The Parson's Daughter is now Twenty. Today. That's freaky.

Pardon me for reminiscing, but I happen to remember July 10, 1990 pretty vividly.  It was a very long night the night before and a very long day.  Eighteen hours of pretty intense labor if you want me to be specific. The doctor sort of played it out her way because she wanted to get in a full day's work.  Tweren't pleasant, no indeed.  I never went back to that doctor and still don't care for her very much.

She arrived weighing 6 pounds, 4 ounces, and was 19 inches long.  She had my nose and my mouth.  She has since got her own.

She's twenty.

She's beautiful and smart, gifted and passionate. She loves God, kids, and the Philippines. She doesn't keep her room clean all the time, but that's okay. She will one day. I didn't keep it clean all the time when it was my room, either...

She is so funny. She can do Madea like nobody's business.  She makes us all laugh so hard.

She can get in a bad mood now and then, but just show me somebody who doesn't! Now come on!

She is still searching about for her future, but if it plays off of her past, she's in good shape.  She has learned how to smile when she's freaking out inside.  She has learned how to love those who do her wrong and hold her head up and know that God will take care of it and she doesn't have to.  Even at twenty, she has learned that time usually brings everything out and she doesn't have to fight to be heard or to tell her side.

She has learned the meaning of PK all by herself and she's making it a beautiful picture.

Scuse me for bragging, but it's my blog and my daughter, so I guess I can.

She's Twenty.

I couldn't have asked for a better one if I would have hand-picked her myself.

Happy Birthday to my roofus!