Shopping 'til I'm Dropping

Since my last post, I've been doing quite a bit of reading about coupons, bargain shopping, store policies, and so on.  I've also subscribed to several coupon sites and blogs.  I've printed off coupons.  I've clipped coupons from papers and magazines.  I'm loaded electronic coupons to my shopping card.  I've collected weekly ads for comparisons and businesses that honor competitors' prices. 

But I'm still SO FAR from having the hang of it. 

Last night when I couldn't sleep, I compiled my list of stores I at which I planned to shop, along with lists of weekly sales, coupons, etc.  Today I organized everything and headed out to get some bargains.  This wasn't a grocery shopping trip since I bought groceries the other day.  Instead, I wanted to test out my new skills and see what I could get for super cheap or free.  I went to seven (yes, seven) stores, which I had mapped out in a circle:  K-Mart, Freds, Dollar General, Food Giant, Target, Kroger and Walgreens.  With my list in hand, off I went.  Everything on my list was something I either currently needed or would need in the near future.  Everything I bought was from my list with the exception of a couple of deals I couldn't have anticipated.   I didn't pay full price for anything, though there were a couple things I had to have and couldn't wait for a better bargain.  As I'm typing this, I'm not sure how much I spent total.  Instead I'm going to list everything with notes and then total up my receipts.  Hopefully I'll have a number of which I can be proud. 

THE LIST (in no certain order)

2 boxes of Hungry Jack pancake mix (1.75 each--not sure if that's saving much but I do know it's less than I normally spend. 

Box of unsalted butter sticks

Febreze Set & Refresh ($1 coupon--This is the only "smelly" I'll use in Amelia's room since it doesn't plug in, have to be lit, or overpower the room with scent)

Two 1 liter Dasanis (.79 for both with BOGO coupon--John buys these at work for 1.70 each!)

Similac Concentrate (8.99 minus $5 w/ voucher)

36 large rolls Charmin Ultra Soft - $15.92 (The only TP my husband likes)

16 double rolls Charmin Ultra Soft - $8.99 (I wouldn't have bought this if I'd known there wasn't a limit on the other size.  At least these are double rolls)

Honey Nut Cheerios (large)- $2.79 (it was actually .20 cheaper than the smaller box)

1 jar baby food (Amelia got hungry--ha ha)

18-gallon tote with lid ($4.49--could have probably shopped around for a better deal, but I needed it tonight)

Jeans size 3T (won't need them for a long time but they were $1.99!)

Domino sugar, 4 lb ($2 minus .40 coupon)

Tresemme styling mousse (on sale for 3.29 minus $1 coupon)

75-count Clorox wipes ($4 at Dollar General but I had a $1 coupon for Target.  Took my DG ad and got them for $3--.69 cents cheaper than the generic brand)

Comet, jumbo can ($1 minus .25 coupon)

Garnier hair conditioner (wasn't on my list but I walked past some on clearance marked from $3.99 to $3 and I had a $1 coupon.  I had recently stocked up when I got it on closeout for 1.99, but it's not like it will expire)

2 bottles Suave body wash (if I had saved my $1 coupon for Target instead of using it at DG, I would have saved six cents.  Oh well, lesson learned.  I still got two bottles for $3.)

Similac Simple Pack Formula and 132-count Pampers sensitive wipes (The formula was 21.00 and the wipes were 5.99, but if I spent $25 on certain baby items, I got $5 off.  Plus I had a $5 Similac voucher.  So I ended up paying $16.99 for all of it)

Ivory soap, 3 pack (.85)

Jiff PB ($2 on sale)

Palmolive dish wash, 32 ounce ($2 on sale)

OB Tampons, 40-count (6.99--not a great deal but I rarely seem them much cheaper)

Frozen vegetables, 3 bags (for baby food, $1 each, .12 more than Wal-Mart but bigger bags)

Squash, fresh (for baby food, .97/lb)

1 dozen eggs (on sale for $1.65 minus a $1.50 coupon = 15 cent eggs!

Bunch of bananas (just needed these)

Sunny D (.99)

Two Wishbone Italian dressings ($1.50/2 @ 1.59 per bottle, so I basically got one for 9 cents.  I use this on chicken dishes all the time)

3 cans Hunts spaghetti sauce and 1 package of spaghetti noodles (Coupon for buy 3 sauces get one pack of pasta.  Sauce was $1 each and pasta was $1.69 on sale, so I paid $3 for all of it.  I save these big cans of spaghetti sauce for when I need to feed a lot of people cheap!)

3 boxes SOS pads ($5 total--I go through these like CRAZY.  Found them at two other stores for $3 each box!)

32-load Era detergent (Not my preferred brand.  I wanted the $3.98 All Free and Clear but it had been cleaned out.  I'm kicking myself for not just taking the ad with me to Target where they would honor it.  The Era is perfume and dye free, though, and was on sale for only $2.98, so it's worth a shot. 

Okay, hang with me while I total up these receipts. Here's a pretty picture for you to look at while you wait. 

And my grand total is 122.72.  Is that good?  I mean, I got formula (super expensive) and a crap load of high-end toilet paper, assorted groceries, personal care items, cleaning supplies--even a pair of toddler blue jeans!   I feel like I got good deals, but I look at the totals of other "couponers" and feel I still have such a long way to go.

I won't be discouraged, though.

Besides the fact that I shopped at seven different stores and it took three hours, I really didn't run into any problems except at Kroger.  I've learned that when you load coupons to your Kroger card, don't trust them when they say, "Oh, it's automatically on there."  I had $3.38 of coupons that had not made it from my card to the register.  Luckily, I'd printed off my shopping card contents and could show it to them.  The woman looked at it and said, "These are all expired."  I almost cried and told her I didn't understand how since I just got them.  She handed my paper back and began taking off the items I didn't want.  I looked at the list and realized that the expiration was MAY 5th, not APRIL 5th.  She apologized, re-rang my items and added my coupons manually.   I was so flustered that I forgot to give her my $5 Similac voucher, but I was able to take it to Customer Service and exchange it for a $5 bill. 

Throughout my adventures, I also got a couple of coupons at the register for things I will buy in the future, as well as a $3 "register rewards" at K-Mart to be used on my next shopping trip. 

I'm definitely going to stick with it and keep researching, clipping and keeping track of prices at different stores.  I even got a subscription to the Wednesday and Sunday paper since they contain most of the circulars and coupons. 

I'll keep you all posted.  Thanks SO much for all the advice you've given me here and especially on Facebook.  Keep it coming!

Thrifty is Nifty

I'm always running across a magazine article or talk show segment about a woman who buys $400 worth of groceries for a $1.37. I think these people must be practicing some (practical) form of witchcraft and tell myself, There's no way I could do that. I am trying to save more, though, and am clipping coupons more regularly. I've also subscribed to a couple of websites who send out emails about bargains. To pinch a few more pennies, I'm shopping at different stores for different items in an effort to get a good deal. I honestly don't know how these women save so much. I run my ass all over town toting around 20 pounds of cuteness on my hip, and I still can't seem to save enough to make me say, "Wow! I need to share this with someone!"

I shopped tonight and came away with what I think is a pretty good haul for what I paid. Since it was cold and rainy (and Ameila and I were grumpy from our stormy day), I decided to only hit two stores: Kroger and Walgreens. I have been trying to shop less at Kroger since I can save more at the dread Wal-Mart, but I refuse to go to Jackson's Wal-Mart and didn't feel like driving the 20 minutes or so to Milan. Plus, I always end up having to swing by Kroger anyway because their meat department is better.

 In no particular order, here's my rundown and some pictures. See what you think.

• 2 lbs lean, ground turkey
• Large bottle of baby wash/shampoo ($1 off coupon)
• 18 packs/jars of baby food (I make most of my own food but if I have a coupon that makes the premade cheaper than what I can make, I use it--especially for fruit since it's a good snack to throw in her bag and I don't have to thaw it)
• 2 boxes of baby oatmeal (on sale and part of a "Spend $25, get $5 off" promotion on baby stuff)
• 5 bananas
• Can of Italian tomato paste
• Two 1 1/2 pound (3 lbs total) boxes of Similac (I had coupons PLUS two five-dollar checks from the company)
• 1 "squeeze butter"
• 1 box Special K protein bars (on sale for 4.99)
• Package of 192 wipes (.02 for each wipe after $1 coupon)
• Pack of mozzarella cheese
• 1 bag frozen "steamer" corn
• Three 1/2 gallons of milk (cost less than one single gallon)
• Pack of taco cheese
• 1 jar peanut butter
• 1 tomato
• 1 pack of spaghetti
• Taco seasoning
• 1 package Lipton Spanish rice
• 1 package low-carb soft tortillas
• 24-ounce moisturizing body wash
• 2 cans Schick hydroshave gel for sensitive skin (BOGO - Total of 3.79)
• 1 loaf Sara Lee sliced bread
• 1 fat-free Italian dressing (for chicken)
• 1 BBQ sauce (for chicken)
• 1 cup fat-free sour cream
• 24-count family size decaf teabags
• 32-ounce liquid dishwashing soap
• 1 jar Bertoli reduced fat pasta sauce
• 1 large can Hunts spaghetti sauce
• 2 boxes Uncle Ben's wild rice ($1 off 2 coupon)
• Large box of Cheerios
• 3 lb bag of frozen boneless/skinless chicken tenders

 

After adding in my register rewards at Walgreens and a few other random coupons,  I spent 126.14. That's quite a bit of money, but for what I had to buy, I think I did well (and I only bought what we needed--any extras are due to BOGO free).   I do know that I spent less than usual, so regardless of whether or not I "could have done better," I did save us some money. I mean, the formula alone costs $40-45 normally! 

I'm sure some of you frugal shoppers are shaking your head and adding up all of the money I could have saved by buying more generic.  But pretty much everything namebrand was CHEAPER than the generic either due to a weekly sale or coupons.  And there are just some things I insist on buying brand name, e.g. Cheerios or any other cereal. 

I can get quite a few meals out of this if I use some of the random ingredients I have at home (you know--the ones you end up with that just don't seem to work with any of the other stuff you have?) I'm sure some of you are horrified at some of the food we eat, but at least we aren't eating frozen dinners each night or eating out like we used to all the time.  That would be SO much easier.  Plus, you'll notice that there's not junk food--no cookies, chips, Little Debbies, etc. 

I want to start putting more time into clipping coupons and browsing the store circulars for the best prices.  I need to learn the policies of each store (who doubles, honors other stores' prices, etc) so that I can make the most of the coupons I do have.  And I want to figure out how in the hell someone can walk in a store and end up being OWED money by the time she leaves. 

I just don't want to have to compromise my soul to do it. 

What I Learned from My Very First April Fool’s Day Prank

I’ve never pulled an April Fool’s prank until today. Most years, I don’t even realize it’s April 1st until my students have erupted in uncontrollable laughter after freaking me out. Remember the story of me going all exorcist/stripper when the spider crawled across my face? I almost repeated that performance in my classroom when a student (in HORROR!) told me there was a spider on my shirt. No, I’ve always been the prankee, never the pranker.

Until today.

After seeing at least a half dozen fake pregnancy attempts from my Facebook friends, I decided to pull one of my own. I pulled up an old ultrasound of Amelia (one that I hadn’t previously published to Facebook). I doctored it so that it didn’t have a year and the month was “2” instead of “12.” Then I posted it to Facebook with the following message:

John and I decided to wait until April Fool's Day to post our "new picture" since everyone else posts FAKE pregnancy news. Been hard sitting on it for a month, but it worked out well since I didn't want to announce it to the world until I got to my 2nd trimester. Amelia will have a buddy to trick-or-treat with this year. We are currently accepting donations of diapers, formula, etc.

I let the grandparents in on the secret because I knew they would kill me, but I decided to see how many people would actually fall for it, especially this late in the day on April 1st.

Within a half hour, I had over two dozen comments, six likes, seven messages in my inbox and my phone wouldn’t stop beeping with text messages. As I soaked my bum shoulder/back in the tub, I couldn’t stop giggling at first. My first time out the gate and it had (mostly) worked. After I shut my phone off and grabbed a magazine, though, I started feeling guilty. All of these people who care about me are so excited and it’s all a big lie. The longer I soaked, the worse I felt. I started thinking about the people I know who want nothing more than to be pregnant, those who have struggled with infertility.  Finally, I got out of the tub, quickly dried off and headed to the computer.

Now I’m sitting here typing this after taking the post down. SURELY by now people have caught on. Then again, a lot of people don’t read others’ comments. So consider this blog to be an apology plus damage control.

So here’s a summary of what I learned from my very first (and possibly last) April Fool’s Day prank:

• I have a guilt complex like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t even enjoy the prank for long because I was so worried about someone’s feelings getting hurt (a family member not in on the gag) or someone being upset that I pranked them about something so serious. I worried I would hurt those who hope and pray daily that they can share this news (for real!!!) with family members and friends.  Though I don’t tend to care what anyone thinks about ME, I do worry a great deal about the feelings of others. This time it was to the point that I dragged myself with one arm out of a hot tub.
• People REALLY want me to have another baby. I didn’t realize my plans for procreation were so important to the masses. One message read: “I was so worried when you said you weren’t having any more children. I’m so glad you changed your mind. You won’t regret it.”
• I’m either a really good liar or my tendency to be open about pretty much everything has totally destroyed people’s BS radars. Maybe both. Or perhaps people just want to believe. Even after one commenter pointed out that just YESTERDAY I said I was on phentermine, someone else argued that maybe I was just trying to cover up my pregnancy. That was probably my favorite part of this whole thing. I didn’t even HAVE to try to cover my trail.  People did it for me.
• Some people pay more attention to grammar/punctuation than even I do. One message called shenanigans, pointing out that the label on the picture said “WOMANS” clinic and that it should be “WOMEN’S” or at least “WOMAN’S.” Actually, that’s the way it’s written on the ultrasound.
• Finally, I’ve learned I really don’t enjoy playing pranks on people. It’s hilarious when other people do it to each other, but I just feel guilty and sneaky. I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t try to pull anything like this again (at least not about something so life changing!), so I hope people don’t read my statuses from now on and think, “Whatever, you damned, dirty liar. “

So here it is now, an hour and a half later, and I’m already spilling the beans. Can’t figure out if I’m a really good prankster for pulling it off or the worst prankster ever for telling on myself so quickly.

My sincerest apologies to everyone, especially to anyone who was hurt by my totsensitivitysensitivity.  Trust me, I will pay for this little joke.  I assume half of Henderson knows now.

Oh well, at least I got a blog out of the whole thing.

My Day

My brain has been busy today.  I need it to slow down so that I can shut down.  It's almost 11 and I'm wired and a little anxious.  Maybe if I dump some of these thoughts here, I can rest.

• My temper has been worrying me a little lately.  I'm not hitting anyone or screaming at people or yelling obscenities (well, maybe a little of that one when I'm by myself).  I'm just snapping at people I love for no reason and blaming them for things they have NO control over whatsoever.   Pretty sure I need to sit down and write some apology letters, especially to my mother.  I actually got pissy with her when I dropped my cell phone in a puddle the other.  She wasn't even there, only on the line talking to me.  I've always had a temper and have learned to control it, but I've never been just plain old mean.
• I wonder if I'm going to be able to spend the rest of my life in this part of the country.   Sometimes I wish I could pick up my family and loved ones and move us away.  Not trying to slander this area or those who live here. I just feel more and more like I don't belong.  
• Screw honesty.  Silence is the best policy sometimes.
• Some days everything pisses me off.  Some days everything makes me sad.  Some days I feel great.  And some days I feel all three within six-and-a-half minutes.  I'm a prisoner to my hormones and it makes me miserable.
• If I keep falling in love with my baby girl at my current daily rate, I am going to explode.  I know she's mine and I'm partial, but OH MY LORD this kid is so funny and smart and beautiful.  I just stare at her and wonder, "How on Earth did I help produce that?????" This isn't something that bothers me, I just worry about her so much because I'm so crazy in love with her.
•  I finished cleaning off my DVR today.  I only have a few episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba left.    I'm way prouder of this accomplishment than I should be.  Wish I were this motivated to clean out my laundry room.
• Hopefully my husband knows how much I love him since I've done such a shitty job of showing him. 
• I'm not sure I've ever felt more like the Prodigal Son than I do now.  For those who've known me for a long time, this may come as a surprise.  
• I seem to lack the ability to call people out when they're obviously lying to me.  It just takes too much energy and I avoid awkward situations at almost any cost.
• It may seem I take things personally, but I'm just passionate.  I'm not losing sleep over other people's opinions.  I have way too many other things that keep me awake.
• I spend way too much time worrying about the feelings of others and I forgive entirely too easily.  Those sound like they should be good things, and in many ways they are.  The problem is that I back down when I shouldn't and I apologize when I've done nothing wrong.  I try to keep the peace long past the point where it's normal, logical or healthy.  I also don't know how to hold a grudge.  Before you tell me that grudges aren't healthy, I'm totally aware.  But sometimes I need to hold a little bit of a grudge for awhile so that the same people don't hurt me again and again.  It's just so tiring to harbor hard feelings, but I think I'd be better off if I didn't just sweep everything under the rug and try to forget it. 

I'm seriously sorry that what little I've posted recently has been depressing.  Writing is therapy for me, though.  Hang with me if you will.  Happier days and funnier topics will be ahead.

To Live

Have you ever read suicide statistics?  Probably not unless you work in a field where this information would be relevant.  It’s not that I’d expect you to read them since suicide is not something most people in society are comfortable with even thinking about, much less talk about or researching.   About six months ago, I posted a link on my Facebook wall about 1-800-SUICIDE, the hotline at the Kristin Brooks Hope Center which was created to help those in crisis.  I challenged people to repost the link on their own Walls since we never know who in our lives may be hurting worse that we can imagine.  Only two people reposted to their walls.  Two. 

Now I know that no one likes to think that someone they know is contemplating or has ever even considered suicide.  In 2007 (the most recent reliable statistics I could find), suicide was the 7^th leading cause of death among men and the fifteenth leading cause among women.  Even worse, it was the third leading cause among young people age 15-24.  And this doesn’t count those deaths that were not reported as suicides.  It is also estimated that for every suicide, there are eleven nonfatal attempts.  So if you consider those who have taken their lives, those who have attempted and those who have seriously contemplated suicide, chances are you know someone who has been affected by suicidal thoughts. 

I grew up being told that suicide is the unforgivable sin since the person committing it not only destroys God’s creation but also cannot ask for forgiveness. I never understood the rationale behind this belief, especially since I can’t find anywhere in the Bible the specifically says those who commit suicide go to hell. People will quote the sixth commandment, “Thou shall not kill/murder.” However, there are numerous prison ministries who reach out to violent criminals and even murderers can supposedly receive forgiveness and redemption from God after taking a life God created. And while a person who takes his own life cannot ask forgiveness, how many other people die with unconfessed/unforgiven sins? Each day people die suddenly in car accidents and from heart attacks, without even a moment to repent. Are their sins automatically excused since they didn’t take their own life? What if the man in the car accident was drinking or driving at a reckless speed? Didn’t he in a way contribute to his death? What if a heart attack is the result of years of unhealthy living and bad habits? Is there really a difference between putting a gun to your head and killing yourself slowly with cigarettes? Why is it that suicide becomes the one sin that negates everything that came before?

When I hear people refer to suicide as a “selfish act,” it makes me angry. I believe that suicide is the result of the most extreme form of mental illness. Humans—and every living thing—are born with certain basic instincts, the strongest of those being self preservation. We are born to live, to survive, to further our species. Our body forces us to eat, to drink, to sleep. We are wired to avoid pain, whether it be physical, emotional or mental. Certain mental illnesses that go against this instinct to live and be healthy illicit our sympathy. Parents worry about teenagers who cut themselves. Friends worry about the woman who remains in an abusive relationship. Television networks invite us to watch shows about drug addicts and hoarders and those suffering with OCD. We don’t call these people “selfish” but instead sit on our couches and play armchair psychiatrist, grasping to understand their mental illness. 

Imagine someone reaching the point that they override their deepest basic instinct—self preservation.  How broken must someone’s mind and spirit be that they instead see self destruction as their best or only option.  How much must they be hurting to lose the desire to see if it gets better?  People often refer to someone committing suicide taking the “easy way out” and perhaps in a sad way it is.  Perhaps something inside is causing them so much pain that day to day life is just too much.  I do not see suicide as a selfish act, though.  I believe these poor people are so mentally ill that they can’t grasp the concept of selfish anymore, at least not as we see it.  Time after time, people leave letters saying that they feel “everyone else will be better off without them.”  What if they truly believe this?  Just as the anorexic sees a fat girl in the mirror despite what her own image and everyone around her tells her, what if the severely depressed can no longer feel their family’s love or see the possibility of life getting better?  

Suicide is a painful, often personal subject and it’s understandable why it’s so rarely discussed in our society until it happens. There are television shows focused on the more “bizarre” (for lack of better word) mental illness, but you don’t see anything on TLC called “Depressed.” Despite the advances in mental health, so many people still don’t consider depression a real disease. No one tells someone with cancer to “Get over it” or “Try harder to get better.” A person suffering with MS won’t be encouraged to “Get out of bed and get on with life.” Alcoholism is a disease. Drug addiction is a disease. Now even sex addiction is treated as a disease. But people with depression are still so often seen as just weak or lazy. I’ve encountered this especially within the church where people are so often encouraged to avoid anti-depressants and pray more. If people are avoiding and ignoring the disease, then of course they will also ignore the sad symptom to which so many people succumb.

I suppose it is hard for people to understand if they’ve never experienced depression themselves or lived with someone who has. I can sympathize with someone with cancer, but I have no idea what they’re going through firsthand. The same goes for someone going through a divorce or mourning a miscarriage. But while I can’t understand their pain, I can be sensitive to it and be there for them even if it’s uncomfortable or difficult. Everyone feels pain, but not everyone experiences excruciating pain. Similarly, everyone feels sad at some point but not everyone experiences true depression. Someone who is clinically depressed isn’t just “blue.” The normal things that cheer us up on a bad day—a hot bath, a long walk, an ice cream cone—don’t make true depression go away. 

Since people are not comfortable with depression, they ignore it. And in the worst case scenario, they alienate the person who is suffering. Not all depression leads to suicide, but all suicides begin with depression or some form of mental illness.

By this point—if you’re still reading—you either think this is the most dismal thing I’ve ever written or you’re getting ready to call my cell phone because you’re worried about me. Please understand, dear reader, that I do not write this as a “call for help,” at least not for myself. This is actually an introduction to another blog I’m writing about a current issue that I think about on a daily basis: the crisis facing many families in our country as our men and women return from war. For two years now, more soldiers have taken their own lives than have died in active duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. Some of these soldiers have taken others with them.

I will talk about this more in a future blog. For now, I beg each of you to remember that there are people hurting around you. Some of them hurt quietly, alone. Never assume that everyone will be okay. There are two national hotlines: 1-800-SUICIDE and 1-800-273-TALK. I encourage you to post these numbers on your Facebook. You never know who might need them or who might repost them on their own Wall for a friend to see. Perhaps someone will think you’re morbid or weird for even mentioning suicide in any context. If so, direct them to this blog and let me explain why you did it.

Ben Okri once wrote, “The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.” For most of us this is true. Most, not all.



(all pictures from Postsecret)

Big Love for Big Love

I’ve never been good with goodbyes, with friends, with family… with television shows.  I always get emotional when shows come to an end.   I think it started when Growing Pains went off the air in 1992.  It seems silly now, but when Carol turned around and said goodbye to their empty house, I cried.  I had been watching the show for seven years, since I was only six years old.  I guess the Seavers were my first “TV family,” and it made me sad that I wouldn’t be spending my Tuesday evenings with them anymore. 

The following year, when Sam Malone closed up the bar for the last time on Cheers, I cried again.  I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t watch Cheers.  Going back and watching reruns now, I realize that there were so many jokes that were over my head, but I always thought the characters were so funny and I liked seeing my parents laugh together. 

The same year that Cheers left the air after its eleven year run, another younger series aired its finale—The Wonder Years.  I remember the final five minutes or so turning me into a slobbering mess.  To this day, I can’t watch the finale without getting chills down my arms and a catch in my throat, especially when Kevin reveals the individual futures of his family and when we hear his own son asking him to play catch (clip below--prepare to cry if you were a WY fan)

The crying trend has continued over the years as I’ve grown to love and then been forced to say goodbye to my favorite casts:  as Buffy and her friends flee a crumbling Sunnydale, as Ally says goodbye to her friends at Cage and Fish (including Billy’s ghost),   Hell, I even shed a few tears during the last episode of Oz.  OZ!!!  

At this point, I know some of you think I’m a little nuts, possibly contemplating my mental health at becoming so attached to television shows.  It’s not that I’m semi-delusional or that I live in some fantasy world.  See, when I write a story, I tend to form an attachment to my characters.  As I breathe life into them on the page and give each his or her own personality and flaws, they become very real to me.  Similarly, I often get emotionally involved with television characters that are very well formed and well written, which explains at least in part why my favorite shows tend to have very strong ensembles. 

Sunday night, I tearfully said farewell to another show and another group of people.  After five seasons, Big Love aired its series finale.  For those of you unfamiliar with Big Love, it’s a show about family, faith and, yes, polygamy.  I can’t even begin to catch you up if you’ve never watched, but the main focus of the show is Bill Henrickson and his family, which includes his three wives and eight children.  From the beginning, Big Love has never—in my opinion—been advocating polygamy as much as using it as a vehicle to make a more important statement about the ties that bind a family. 

Big Love has not always seemed to know exactly what it wished to be.  It walks the line of drama, but often finds itself teetering off into melodrama or even soap opera.  In an hour’s time, it can be humorous, depressing, shocking and infuriating.  What it isn’t, though, is disappointing.  At the start of the last season, I admit I was a bit discouraged with the pace and plotlines, especially the explosive fourth season that preceded it.  I am glad that creators Mark Olsen and Will Scheffer pulled back on the reins this season, though, allowing us to have a more realistic, satisfying ending. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

For those of you who don’t watch Big Love, you may wish to stop reading now since what follows deals with last night’s episodes and my thoughts. If you do watch Big Love and haven’t yet seen Sunday's episode, you will definitely want to stop reading now. What follows are MEGA SPOILERS. 

I originally wrote a total recap of the show that ran about six pages; however, anyone who is a big enough fan to read all of that already saw the episode.  So instead of a Cliffs Notes version, I’m going to address the questions I’ve heard/read people asking since Sunday night and provide my humble insights. 

Why didn’t we learn anything about Joey and Wanda? 

There’s no reason to believe that Joey and Wanda didn’t attend Bill and Lois’s funerals (as long as they were able to be located in Mexico).  Since the epilogue takes place eleven months later, they would have no reason to still be hanging around. 

What’s the deal with Teenie?  

The Teenie storyline has been neglected for awhile.  First, they had to replace the actress who played her because the original actress got so tall/mature between seasons that it caused a continuity problem.  When Teenie returned from camp last season, they had a new actress.  There were hints that Teenie had some problems and I read that the intention was to send her away to her grandmother’s house because she was unhappy with the Henricksons.  That storyline got buried.  This season, they sent her to live with Sarah since she wasn’t handling all of the attention very well after the family “came out.”  Since she has been so absent, I guess they just didn’t feel like her character needed more than a mention.  It would almost seem a little unnatural for her suddenly to pop up.

What will happen to Alby and Adaleen? 

 Alby was already wanted for the murder of Rhonda’s husband and the abduction of Nicki.  I also assume that the first shots fired in the Capitol building killed Salty (especially since Salty looked so scared).  Alby shouldn’t be free for many years.  As for Adaleen, she’s out on bail, so it’s possible she may end up spending some time in jail after going to court.  Regardless, she can’t go back to Juniper Creek, so I feel she’ll eventually crawl back to Nicki and beg forgiveness once Alby’s spell is broken.

What’s with the cows/ox under the baptistery? 

 I won’t even pretend to know more than bare basics about the Mormon faith.  I do know a little about the baptismal font.  I’m not sure if this is true of all LDS temples, but many have baptismal fonts that sit on twelve oxen which represent the twelve tribes of Israel.   I believe there’s additional Mormon symbolism, but I’m not familiar with it.  There were also 12 oxen under the large basin in Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23).  What confused me in this episode is that I’ve always understood this particular baptismal font to be used for baptism of the dead, not the living.  Perhaps it is different in the Reorganized LDS church, though.

Why would Margene leave her children, even if she has sister-wives to take care of them?   

As a mother, I am conflicted about Margene leaving her children while she leaves for months on a mission.  I don’t like to be away from my daughter overnight.  But what if Marg wasn’t going on a mission?  We don’t blast mothers who serve their country in the military, even if they’re deployed for a year at a time.  Margene says her faith has led her to share what’s in her heart to others.  I honestly don’t think she’s leaving just to escape her family; I truly believe she feels led to work with those in need.  Even Bill seemed at peace with her desire to work in missions, telling Margene he understood her desires and telling Nicki to support her sister-wife if she decided to go.  Missions are such an integral part of Mormon faith; they aren’t just something for “missionaries.”  Most young Mormons spend up to two years spreading their beliefs throughout the world.  Perhaps Margene needs this time of spiritual and personal growth.  Maybe it will lead her back home permanently, maybe it will lead her into further missions.  Life is full of uncertainty, so why should we expect all the answers from a television show?

Why are the other wives allowed to evolve but Nicki stays so hateful? 

Throughout the episode, we’re reminded again and again that Nicki is quite possibly the most inept person on the planet when it comes to expressing her actual feelings.  In the previous episode, Nicki honestly seemed to believe that the best way to stop Cara Lynn from seeing her teacher was to be ruthless.  And as shocking as that entire episode was (I could barely look at the TV when Nicki verbally assaulted her daughter), I understand the root of her inability to interact with anyone on a normal, human level.  She’s been manipulated her entire life, her love used against her like a weapon, desperate for affection from her parents.   Barb has had to compromise beliefs.  Margene has grown into a woman.  But part of Nicki is still the scared girl from the compound who was given to an evil man as a child.  The scene where Barb forces Nicki to let her hold her was painful, as Nicki insists, “You know I don’t like to be touched.”  Even Nicki’s love is confrontational.  It is obvious that she doesn’t want Margene to leave, but instead of telling Margene this, she tries to shame her into staying.  Even in the last scene, she is telling Margene to call so that “Barb doesn’t worry.”  I pity Nicki because she closes herself off so tightly, but I believe that she and Cara will help teach each other to love and be loved.   Nicki has grown, but she is still so far from the social norm that it's difficult to identify with her.

Are Ben and Heather married? 

I noticed in the final scene that both Ben and Heather are wearing wedding rings, so I assume they have married.  This may seem rushed, but short courtships are fairly common among young people in Mormon culture.   I’ve never been a Ben fan.  He mopes too much and he kind of creeps me out.  If Heather wants to be with him, more power to her.  

Why did they kill off Bill’s character?  (this one is going to get LONG)

Isn’t that just taking the easy way out? I wouldn’t call it the easy way necessarily, but it was the easiest way to tie up some loose ends, allow the family to stay together and provide Bill with some redemption. Bill is going to be indicted for raping Margene, a trail that will undoubtedly put his entire family through Hell. He has lost Home Plus, which will financially ruin his family and most likely leave them homeless and destitute. He has burned countless bridges and left hearts and promises broken in his wake. He is not a perfect man. At times, he is not even a likable man. But he has come to a good place in the moment before the impending storm, telling Ben and Don, “We’re going to be alright.” His death provides an opportunity for him to pass the priesthood to Barbara (notice he specifically requests she bestow it), though I believe he had already planned to bestow it on her following his vision/epiphany during the church service. I think it’s significant that he sees Emma Smith instead of the prophet himself. In many ways, Emma Smith was as intricate a part of the origins of Mormonism as Joseph himself. (Undoubtedly, Barb could relate to the trials and tribulations she faced in being Mrs. Smith.) Behind Emma is a sign that reads “Man is that he might have joy,” a saying attributed to Joseph Smith but actually from the 2nd book of Nephi in the Book of Mormon (though I suppose some will argue that the Book of Mormon is a creation of Smith. I’d rather not debate Mormon theology for now). The verse, from the second chapter, states, “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.” Since I’m not Mormon and have not studied the Book of Mormon closely (though I have read it), I can only make my own interpretation as I see it and as I think it relates to the show. Before Adam fell, he was a perfect being, made in the image of God himself. It is our sin that keeps us separate from God and essentially makes us human; therefore, we are a product of Adam’s sin and we continue to sin. The beauty of being a human, though, is that we can still attain joy. On an earthly scale, we can find joy through our talents and hobbies, through the world around us, and especially through our families and loved ones. On a spiritual level, we find joy through forgiveness and redemption from God. So God granted us our free will and gave us this world so that we could have experiences and seek out what brings us joy, but also to connect with Him and to bring Him joy as well. I believe as Bill sees his vision of Emma and reads the words behind her, he is struck with the realization that perhaps he’s confused his priorities to a certain degree. Yes, his faith is important, a crucial part of not only his spiritual life but his daily life. Throughout the show and especially the past two seasons, Bill has put his beliefs before everything, often to the detriment of his family’s emotional and even physical well being. Bill realizes, as Barb did just minutes earlier in the baptismal font, that faith without family brings sadness and even strife. Faith without works may be dead, but faith without family is joyless. He even tells Ben and Don as much in the back yard, insisting that their faith comes from the love they have with each other, not the other way around. During his vision in church, I honestly think Bill decided that he wanted to extend the priesthood to Barbara. When Bill is in the backyard writing before his death (on yellow paper… an allusion to Smith’s golden tablets perhaps???), I think he is creating new bylaws for his church that will allow female priesthood holders.

Bill’s allowing Barb to be a priesthood holder also opens the door for Sarah to rejoin her family in the area of faith, as she allows her mother to give the blessing to her new son. 

Ultimately, Bill’s death joins his family together in a way that he was never able to accomplish. Barb tells Sarah, “We’re strong. We’ve been forged. We endure.” Though their trials and tribulations have tested their bond, it is the tragedy they’ve shared in Bill’s death that has provided an Earthly sealing of sorts. 

Bill’s death also serves a larger purpose in that it makes him a martyr for his cause. Though his death wasn’t necessarily a direct result of his polygamy, Carl most definitely saw Bill’s calling himself a “Mormon polygamist” as a mockery of the church. Yet ultimately, Bill is successful. He has a church, he has his wives, he seems happy. Before shooting Bill, Carl declares, “I love my wife. I love my church. I will not be ridiculed. I will not be a failure.” Carl has adhered to his faith as closely as possible but just seems to fall further and further behind in life. During Bill’s last sermon, there were almost 500 who had made the “pilgrimage” to see him. He is already a hero and now he is a martyr. Nothing like blood on the street to light a fire under people. 

My thoughts on Lois

As if the entire episode weren’t emotional enough for me (I cried at the end of Oz, remember???), the Lois situation hit entirely too close to home for me and absolutely reduced me to tears.   I hurt during her moments of lucidity, time spent mourning the independence she’s lost and the days spent in a fog of confusion.   Each passing memory would brighten her only momentarily, leaving depression in its wake as it escaped her again.  When Bill invites her to Easter, her face softens as she recalls pieces of Easters long ago when she wore hats and how they made her feel “so full of herself, something special.”   Lois hasn’t always been the most likeable character, but she’s strong and independent and crafty.  To see her reduced to a shell of her former self is heartbreaking.  When Bill again visits Lois and takes her the Easter hats, it was almost more than I could bear.   Looking in the mirror, Lois exclaims, “She’s ugly!  Why is she wearing my hat?”  Bill says, “It’s you, Mother.”  Lois’s face crumbles, as did mine.  “God save me,” she says as she allows Bill to hold her.   The final scene with Frank and Lois was almost too much for me.  As Lois drifts off into her next life and casts off the broken, troubled mind of this one, Frank gives her back her lost memories—especially the ones of Bill and happier times they had together as a family.  His last words are, “You gave ‘em what for.”   I’m glad that Lois at least got to go out on her own terms.

As a whole, I was pleased with the final episode. No, it didn’t tie up every single loose end, but isn’t life one big set of loose—and often frayed—ends? Even when we die, those around us keep living, our lives a constant ebb and flow. The big questions were answered, the answers to many others can be inferred, and the rest remain mysteries (just as questions in our own life are).

I will miss my Sunday evenings with the Henricksons. 

For anyone interested, here’s the final scene. The song over the closing credits (Natalie Maines’s cover of the original opening song, “God Only Knows”) is gorgeous and the words have a different meaning now that the show—and Bill’s life—has come to an end. 

Day Thirty: Little Miss Missing My Friend

When I saw that today's assignment in the "30-Day Challenge" is to post a picture of someone I'm missing, I was tempted to just rehash my blog from February 21st since it pretty much covered the gals I love and miss.  But that would be cheating, right?  And what kind of blogger would I be if I cheated my gentle readers on this LAST DAY of the Challenge?  (Actually, there's a Day 31 where I'm supposed to post another picture of me, but I refuse to do it since this is the "30-DAY Challenge" and not the "31-DAY Challenge."  Plus I'm ready to move on to something new.)

My challenge now becomes not only who I spotlight on today's challenge, but finding away to wrap up this whole 30-day blog-a-thon.  Do I try to write something super meaningful?  Should I be cheeky or clever?  I thought about posting a picture of Amelia when she was teeny tiny and saying I miss her being so small. I know it's only been seven months, but she's HUGE now and getting more independent every day.  I decided against this idea, though, since I already write about her so much.  It's not that she's not important; I just don't intend for this to become a "mommy blog." 

I pulled out my cell phone and started flipping through my contacts, looking for inspiration.  I had only made it to the "B's" when I realized I knew who the focus of today's blog should be. Though I was only a few letters from his name, I didn't need to even make it the D's.  I miss Dave.

Though I predominantly have girl friends now, for much of my life I've always preferred to hang out with guys. When I got married, my relationships with my guy friends changed and some disappeared completely. It's not that I didn't want to hang out with them anymore or felt that they threatened my marriage. I just felt that out of respect for my husband, I probably shouldn't run around with a bunch of guys anymore. I started trying to develop more friendships with women and formed several that have turned into lifelong bonds. It wasn't until I started hanging out with Dave that I realized how much I missed having a male friend. And the added bonus was that he was John's friend, so we could all hang out and I didn't feel I was doing anything "wrong."

I met Dave in 2005 when we moved to St. Louis; he was John's residency coordinator/mentor.  Though we spent a little less than a year in the same city as Dave, I count him as one of my dearest friends and wish we lived closer and could hang out all the time (though I'm not sure there's enough wine and drunken goat cheese this side of the Mississippi to satisfy us).  There are few people in my life with whom laugh as much as him,  and if you've known me for very long at all, you know how important laughter is to me.  But for all of our craziness together, Dave is serious when it counts.  He's one of the most encouraging people I've ever known and he's always had my back.  I think the absolute world of him.

What makes Dave even more perfect for this particular blog is that he has supported BWC pretty much since Day 1.  In fact, he's been around since way back in 2005 when I was blogging on Myspace as "A Girl Named Bob."  When I left Myspace in 2008, he was my last comment ("I'm verklempt") and he was one of my very first comments in July 2008 when I started "Bad with Conviction."  Along the way, he's not only been a dedicated reader and commenter, he's also shared my blog with others.  His support and feedback mean the world to me, so much that even if no one else read except him, I'd still keep writing.

Thank you for everything, Dave.  I miss you, buddy. 

This blog's for you.  

Now come see my baby, dammit.

Day Twenty-Nine: Yeah, It Makes Me Smile

Looks like I'm in the home stretch of the "30-Day Challenge."  The last few days, I've slacked off a little, but I was having trouble getting each day finished and I felt I was sacrificing quality for quantity.  I've also been working on some other projects that I hope to get up on the BWC site in the next few weeks.  Anywho, today is Day 29 and I'm supposed to post a picture that makes me smile.  This is a pretty easy task since I can open any folder labeled "Amelia" and take my pick.  I know I'm partial, but my baby girl is too cute and too funny.  I have a hard time being humble about her; I guess that's pretty normal for a parent, though.  It may come as a surprise then, that my picture today is not a picture of Amelia.  It is actually a picture of my husband and another baby, my sweet little Bean.

I have three favorite pictures of my husband:  one from our wedding day, one from the day our daughter was born, and this one.  I can't exactly put into words just why it's one of my favorites, but for the sake of this blog, I'll try.

For starters, I love the sweet look on John's face. My husband is a very kind man, which is part of the reason I fell in love with him.  This picture captures that side of him so perfectly.  Bean was the first newborn he had ever held, and as you may be able to tell, he was rather smitten by her (as we all were). I kind of think of this picture as the beginning of John's journey toward fatherhood since spending so much time with this little sweetie seemed to give him a low-grade baby fever.  

Bean was just one day old when this picture was taken, so it's also special since it was her introduction into our lives.  Bean's mother is one of my most precious friends, and we love both her and her beautiful daughter.  We are so honored that we get to be Bean's honorary "Uncle John" and "Aunt Amber."  This little girl means so much to me, and I would do anything to keep her happy and healthy. 

Bean is 3 1/2 now and has a sweet baby brother.  John and I have a baby of our own, too.  Between jobs and kids and everything else in our lives, we don't get to visit with our "extended family" as much as we like.  This picture is a sweet reminder of how special they are to both of us.  So, yeah, it makes me smile. 

Day Twenty-Eight: Blown Away

While sitting in the storm shelter recently, my mom asked me if I would be blogging about my fear of tornadoes. At the time, I didn’t know what my future “challenges” would be, so I told her I probably would at some point in the future. It turns out that Day Twenty-Eight’s assignment is to post a picture of something of which I’m afraid. Whaddya know?



Map from New York Times, March 22, 1952

 Before I talk about my own fear, perhaps I should provide a wee bit of back story. In the spring of 1952--twenty-seven years before I was born and five days after the NOAA issued their first tornado forecast--an outbreak of tornados ripped across Tennessee. Over a seven-hour period spanning two days, a total of sixty-seven Tennesseans perished, a majority of them in West Tennessee. The small town in which both my mother and I grew up was devastated when a Category 4 ripped across the county.One hundred twenty homes were destroyed; over 250 were damaged. Twenty-three perished..


My mother was five years old at the time, and the storm left its mark on her. I’ve decided to allow her to tell her memories of that night in her own words:

My mother, grandfather and uncle

I was not born afraid of storms but developed a real fear after March 22, 1952 when the horrible storm hit Henderson. I grew up in a community where my dad's 11 brothers and sisters also lived, all within three to four miles of each other with my grandparents sort of in the middle. As I remember, our family was always on the alert when stormy weather developed. During the first five years of my life, my parents, my brother and I sought shelter behind a large bank at the edge of our front yard whenever there was severe weather. This always seemed to be enough until that day in l952.

I remember the weather getting bad that night, but my parents did not realize how just bad it was. This was before weather satellites and tornado sirens. There was often very little warning. I remember how fearful things were that night once the storm got close. It was not raining at the beginning, only thundering. I remember the urgency of my parents. My mother took my eight-year-old brother, my dad took me, and we went to the bank outside. They threw quilts over each of us and we laid in the ditch behind the bank. As the storm passed over, I remember a roaring sound, but at my young age, I did not understand the significance. I remember my parents discussing the roar and how close it sounded.

After the storm appeared to be over, we went back into the house. I shall never forget how eerily quiet everything was. We could hear people in the distance, calling for each other. At that moment, we couldn’t imagine the pain and destruction that lay just across the wood from us, about a mile as the crow flies. Many of our neighbors had lost their homes. Even worse, several had lost their lives. My aunt’s brother, his wife and their child had all been killed as they slept. I can remember the adults talking about how the family never even knew what happened. This same little boy I had just recently played with at a party I attended with my mother. Other neighbors were injured and some had to be helped out of the rubble.

When daylight finally came, we drove to our neighbors’ homes; my parents wanted to help in any way they could. One might think my fear began the night before during the storm, but it was the following morning that my fear actually set in. I had never seen this type of destruction: houses torn down, cattle dead, trees scattered, belonging from houses hanging everywhere. In Chester County, 23 people were killed that night. As I listened to the adults talk about the death and destruction, I remember being very scared, not exactly understanding everything that had taken place.

That terrible night in March was the last time we sought refuge in the ditch. My dad, along with his brothers, built a storm house behind my grandparents’ home. This was a gathering place for all of us on stormy nights. After that night, I became very scared when stormy weather developed. I think I was the first in the family to hear the thunder. I would jump out of bed and begin dressing, shaking until we went to the shelter. My brother was not at afraid as I was. I think back and laugh when I remember how they would get him dressed, and as we would be ready to start out the door, they would find Roger crawled back into bed.


On stormy nights--even after 59 years –I am still carried back to the horrible sights and sounds that I experienced as a five-year-old. Once I had a family, I passed this on to my own two children. Even when they were young, they both would be out of the bed with me when the weather was stormy, keeping me company while their dad slept until we told him we had to take cover.

When I was a child, I thought my momma was pretty much invincible. If I thought I heard something in the house, I would always call for her. In my mind, she might as well have been some sort of super ninja. I was certain she would and could protect me from anything. It was because of this that I found myself very unsettled any time my mother was afraid. And if there was one thing she was afraid of, it was severe weather. When I say “severe,” I don’t just mean thunder and lightning. She does fine until someone mentions the “T-word.” When it would storm, my mother would stay up to watch the news until it had passed. When we were very small, my brother and I would often sleep in our clothes, our shoes nearby, ready to leave at a moment’s notice when she woke us up. As I got older, though, I joined her in the living room in front of the television.

When the storms would roll in, we would usually roll out toward my grandparents’ house in the country to spend the evening in their storm shelter [Note: They eventually built their own].  There were times we were actually driving to their house in the storm.  Not the greatest idea, but mom just seemed to feel better when we were out there.  This in turn made me feel better. 

Sometimes we just couldn’t get to my grandparents’ house in time, so we would go downtown to the public safety building’s basement.  I’ll never forget the time we parked at the post office where my dad worked and were walking across the street to seek shelter in the public safety building when all of a sudden the tornado alarms began wailing.  Suddenly, my mother lost all composure and turned into a manic cartoon character, spinning around with her arms out, gasping, “What do we do?  What do we do?”  I would have laughed if it hadn’t scared the Mountain Dew out of me.   It was the only time I remember my absolutely freaking out. 

I had my own “storm moment” that stuck with me, which only fueled my existing fears. In 1987, I went to West Memphis, Arkansas with my parents after a tornado hit the town right before Christmas. It was the first time I had seen firsthand the devastation from a twister. As my mother said of her experience, it was very scary (and I had not even been in this storm). I’ll never forget one house we saw. Half of it was standing, but the other half was completely gone. In one room that was left stood a china cabinet, unscathed. Even the china inside was intact. I was only eight, but something about the china made me uneasy, as if the tornado had been very deliberate. This experience just cemented my deep, almost irrational fear of tornados.


Damage from 1999 tornado



Though I don’t believe my mom’s intention was to instill a fear of severe weather in me, she inevitably did. While my brother is very cautious and keeps a close eye on the weather when it gets stormy, he keeps his wits about him. I get a bit more anxious. Since leaving home, I have earned a reputation as the “human tornado siren.” When it gets stormy, some people actually call me to see what’s going on in lieu of turning on the news. Everyone knows I’ll be keeping track of the storm. I’m the first to say that perhaps I’m a bit hyper vigilant, but the only way I can stay calm is to track the storm, sometimes hours before it arrives at my home. I attribute this to my Type-A, control freak tendencies. I have no power over the storm, so I have to settle for knowing everything about it. Basically, I turn into the overbearing, meddling mother of a rebellious, F-3 disaster.

Funeral home destroyed in 1999 storm

 I’ve spent entire nights parked in front of the television, awaiting a supercell that may or may not track over my home. When I lived in an apartment, I stocked the bathroom with pillows and supplies so that I could hide in the bathtub when the sirens started. When I moved to an upstairs apartment, I made it a point to find a downstairs neighbor who was as scared of the threat of tornados as I was so that I could run to her apartment. My philosophy toward tornado-producing weather can be summed up by the old idiom “better safe than sorry.” I’d rather lose some sleep and take every precaution than to ignore the weather map and be sucked out of my bed. People always try to tell me I overreact or even that I need to have “more faith that God will protect me.” I say that God even gave a dog the sense to get in out of the rain.

Mother Liberty CME after the 2003 storm

My fear probably hit its absolute high—or maybe low, depending on how you look at it—on February 5, 2008. It was Super Tuesday and the Storm Prediction Center had placed our area at high risk for severe storms. Since our city and county had already suffered destruction and 11 deaths from tornadoes in 1999 and 2003, many people were feeling pretty edgy. School was dismissed early that day due to the possibility that the severe weather could arrive while students were still on the buses riding home. I left school, went to vote in the primaries, and headed home to get ready for the storm.



Aerial view following 2003 storm

As I was watching the Memphis news around 5:30, they went live to one of their cameras that showed a tornado touching down along the state line. Even though it was 100 miles away, I freaked out because I was watching a live tornado. I called John and told him he had to leave work and come home immediately. He wasn’t overly concerned but told me he’d come home soon. Over the next hour, my nerves became more and more frayed as reports came in about the damage in Memphis, my former home where many friends still live. John finally arrived home, completely unphased by the approaching storm. A little before 7:00, I finally convinced him to get his shoes on and go to the hallway with me. I use the term “hallway” loosely. Since our house has no inner rooms, we were forced to hide in the in the tiny area outside of the guest bedrooms and bathroom.

At this point, I was in full-alert mode, just a notch below “spinning in the street, panicking” mode. With my cell phone, flashlights, purse and pillows, John and I sat with our dogs and listened to the weathermen on TV in the next room report that there was a tornado on the ground inside the county. My mother was on the phone with me, attempting to keep me calm. (Ironic, no?) Within minutes, the cell had reached us. The wind and rain picked up, and suddenly we heard a sickening sound. It wasn’t the “freight train” sound everyone describes, but an almost deafening thudding sound. I was convinced the storm was pulling the top of our house off and looked up expecting to see sky. But nothing happened. John peeked around the corner and out the window saw hail falling into our yard and blowing against the windows. I didn’t know whether I should be relieved or scared of what was coming after the hail. Actually, I didn’t know anything except absolute terror. Eventually, it got quiet. The storm had passed over our home. We came out of hiding to find our yard covered in hail the size of tennis balls. I’m not sure how we managed to come through with our windows intact.

Hurt Dorms at Union University

While we were getting pummeled, just 1 ½ miles across the woods (as the crow flies, like my mother says), a tornado touched down, twisting and tossing everything in its path. It skipped up the highway toward Union University where it damaged or destroyed 31 buildings on campus, including most of the dorms. It is the fact that not a single life was lost that provided concrete proof to me that God does indeed exist. The storm continued, as the tornado destroyed homes and businesses across the city and county.

Huntersville, where we assisted in cleanup

The destruction left in the wake of that storm was heartbreaking. Two more lives were lost. I went with a group to the small community where one death occurred, and we helped the family clean up and search for their possessions. The gentleman at the site had lost his father in the storm and his mother was seriously injured. Everything they owned was either buried under the walls of the house or strewn across the countryside. It looked like a bomb had exploded inside of their home. As we surveyed the damage throughout the county, even my husband--who had never shown even an ounce of real concern during stormy weather--declared that we would get a shelter installed.  

Watters Dorms at Union University

My fear of tornadoes has only grown since I gave birth last summer. I prepare twice as much for an impending storm and am 200% more diligent in watching the news and weather. Our shelter has done wonders for me, though. I am actually able to relax a little when I’m down in “my hidey hole.” I also try to stay calm so as not to upset my daughter. My goal is to make her mindful of storms but to not instill in her the fear that I have always had. I want her to always be safe, but without being scared.

I know there are people who think I’m absolutely nuts, but there is really nothing I can do about my fear of tornadoes. Some people are afraid to fly or of small spaces. I’m afraid of giant rotating funnels that can destroy my home and my family. Just seeing pictures or footage of a tornado is enough to make me jittery. At least over the years I’ve been able to exert some control over my fear so that I’m not reduced to a shivering, babbling pile of nerves every time I hear a siren. Though I am still very much frightened, I know I must stay as calm and rational as possible to best protect both me and my loved ones.

When I was a little girl, a friend of mine didn’t want to watch Wizard of Oz because she was scared of the flying monkeys. I loved Oz, though I do admit I closed my eyes on one part every time. Bet you can guess the scene.