Home Is Where You Are

The first day of school was Monday in the 'Ville. And as first days of school go, it was rather uneventful around the house.

The crankiest people in the house were probably Abby and Daddy. Abby was battling a cold, and I was battling the fact it was Monday. But the actual school kids -- that being Coby and Melody -- were actually getting ready for school quietly and with little argument or disappointment.

Later at work, a thought crossed my mind that I just have to mention here. It was one year ago, on the first day of school, that Coby and Melody first started attending school in the 'Ville. We were in the midst of our nightmare move that included the absolute nuclear waste mess that was our previous home's survey. It's a long story, and those of you close to us know pretty much what happened. If you don't know, trust me when I say -- don't ever buy a home without getting a survey done.

Bottom line was, we were in the midst of selling out old home and moving to the 'Ville, with one of the main reasons being the opportunity to get our children in what we think is one of the best school districts in the state. We signed a contract on our house in the 'Ville, when we hit the snag with our old home in the 'Shall. On faith we decided to go ahead and let our buyers move in and effectively rent from us while the mess was being settled.

The bad thing with that plan was that it left us with no place to live right before school was about to start. Since we had a signed contract on a home in our hands, we were able to get our kids enrolled in the 'Ville. But that didn't stop the fact we had absolutely, literally, nowhere to hang out hat as a family.

Aunt Donnis and Tony opened up their home for a couple of weeks, but eventually that had to end. They were in the process of getting their own home ready to sell, and that's not easy with one family living in it, much less two.

We were down to very few options, when with all my heart I believe God stepped in. At a very low point in my day at work one day about a year ago, I got a call from Stu, my good friend from church. He offered and pretty much told me it was time for my family -- all three kids and the wife included -- to move in with he and Lauren. I honestly tried to resist, but I didn't have much fight in me, I must admit. He was insistent, and, well, we needed a place to hang out.

We moved in with the Musicks in their new home in the 'Shall, and it turned out to be about a month-long sleepover. I am sure that, more than once, Stu and Lauren would lie awake at night wondering what the heck they'd gotten themselves into -- especially when Abigail might make her presence known at 4 or 5 in the morning! But they never muttered a word and made us feel as welcome as we could possibly feel as we were taking up half their home.

I say all this because my kids started their first day of school last year in the 'Ville with Jeannie having to drive them the 20 minutes or so to school, from Stu and Lauren's home. This went on for a month before we were able to close the deals we had hanging over us and eventually move into our own new home here. I can't express to you the despair I felt personally during this time, not knowing where my family would eventually end up permanently, and especially not knowing whether or not at some point I was going to have to yank my kids out of their brand new school and put them back in the same old thing we were trying to get away from in the first place for several reasons...there were some very dark days for me, some of which I can't even begin to express. Not even to my wife.

But God stepped in and provided us with our friends. And I will be eternally grateful to Stu and Lauren for their show of love during this time. We make jokes about it all the time -- the front half of their home is now referred to as the "Weaver Suite" -- but for a month, there was really no joke about it, it was a place we called home.

That was a year ago this week, and we've settled in nicely with our new surroundings. To commemorate the anniversary, I just wanted to express my gratitude and heartfelt thanks as much as I possibly can -- meaning I have to do it in writing because I don't speak such things well.

Thanks Stu and Lauren. Your kindness and friendship will never be forgotten. And if you guys ever need a roof over your head, well...Abby will gladly give you her corner of the room in the 'Ville!

Lord Of The Idiots

Thought I'd wow you with the title of this entry, seeing as its been close to a month since the last post.

But I'm still here, churning it out from the 'Ville. A lot has happened -- this is typically the most nightmarish month for me personally. Always has been. As a kid I hated -- ABSOLUTELY HATED -- the thought of going back to school. I hated the end of summer. Now, its the busiest for me at work. Four media guides to publish. Meeting new athletes and getting to know them sufficiently so I can answer questions if needed. A new school year with new challenges and deadlines.

Blah, blah, blah -- and no time for blogging.

So I'm making time this morning. I draw my inspiration this morning from the big news event of the week -- the almighty Democratic National Convention.

In celebration of the DNC, the Democrats' flagship station -- CNN -- had the almighty idiot Bill Maher on as a guest of Larry King Sunday night. Don't ask me how I happened to find the channel, because I never watch CNN usually. Just one of those dips in the wave of channel surfing I guess.

I also normally couldn't tell you what Maher says or believes because whenever I see him on TV, it takes about a half-second to get him off the channel. There are a lot of idiots out there in this world, Republican, Democrat, or somewhere in-between. The world is full of them.

But this guy has to be lord of the idots.

Again, I don't have a whole lot to say about his appearance on Larry King Sunday, but I saw enough to tell you this. The guy is delusional. If you want to know what Bill Maher stands for, go as far left as you possibly can, then shoot a missile even farther left and go out there where it lands. Then drive several hundred miles farther left and you'll find his little mud hut out there somewhere I guess.

The main thing that is hard to stomach on TV is that this guy never misses a chance to bash God. Bill Maher is an atheist apparently. He refers to God always with an "if" in front of it, as though there's a question.

But here's the thing, Bill. The great thing about God is that he still loves people like you. And me, for that matter. No matter what you say or do, no matter how much money you make bashing him over the airwaves, God still loves you. No matter how big of a coward you are, God still loves you.

That's because God is Lord of all -- and yes, Lord of the idiots like you.

It's good to be back... more this week, hopefully, on more pleasant subjects like the first day of school. Wow, never thought I'd say that.

Name Game

I made a "mistake" last night with my oldest daughter, Melody.

You see, of course, for eight years or so "Mel-Mel" was the only little girl in the house. She was the baby. Forget the fact she's just 18 months younger than the heir to the throne, Coby. She was the baby.

Then Abigail Grace was born, eight years after Melody. We were all joyous at her arrival, of course, including big brother and big sister, but that created a titanic tidal wave in the structure of the household. No longer was Mel the baby. She became the middle child.

For eight years I'd refer to Melody as my "baby girl." Actually, it was more like "babygirl," one whole big, all-inclusive reference. I'm sure all parents have little pet names for the kids, and that was mine for her. I'm happy to say she rather enjoyed it as well.

Anyway, at some point close to Abby's birth, Melody and I had a deep conversation about daddy's moniker for her. Melody was concerned that she no longer would be "babygirl," and quite honestly, she wasn't quite sure she wanted to be. After all, she was eight now, and Abby would definitely fall under the category of The Baby Girl when she arrived.

But I wanted to hold out. As I'd told her every day of her life, almost, Melody would forever be my babygirl. The day she graduates high school, she'll be babygirl. The day she gets married (gulp!) she'll be babygirl. And so on.

But then Melody was concerned: what would I call Abby? It was an explosive question. I finally settled her mind on something like Abbygirl. Things would move on from there.

Of course, I'm not that smart. So for 19 months I've referred to the both of them as "babygirl." This was the situation last night at home in the 'Ville. I made the mistake of calling Abby "babygirl" as I was put in the position of having to get her ready for bed. Jeannie was busy making some delicious, fat-filled alfredo for a late supper around 9 or so, and Abby was ready for both supper and bed at the same time. The Perfect Storm.

I tried various ways of calming her, including use of the term babygirl. This worked, except for the fact that Melody -- from her perch in the bathtub -- heard it. I was told in no uncertain terms -- reminded, actually -- that she was, in fact, my "babygirl." I responded with something to the effect that I have two babygirls, to which she responded, no, I have just one. And it's not Abby.

This went on for a few long minutes before I finally hit the mute button and went into ignore mode. Melody eventually lost interest and went back to singing in the tub. Coby, for his part, never stirred from the couch while watching the Rangers beat the Yankees for the second night in a row. Yessir.

Nicknames are one thing, but pet names for your kids, that's something totally different. Now I'm forever tied to this one little phrase for both my daughters, and it's going to become quite confusing apparently.

Abby is into the act as well. I'm now a cross between "daddy" and "day," which she says at least 300 times a day. Along with several other new words such as "hot" while pointing to the refrigerator.

And Mel-Mel? I'm just Daddy. And she's still -- and forever will be -- "Babygirl."