There she is, Miss America

Tonight, as I have almost every other year of my life, I will watch the Miss America pageant. I will be cheering on Miss Georgia and Miss Alabama, as I always have. Tonight's pageant will be different, though. While I'll always be a Georgia girl at heart, tonight I really want Miss Alabama to win. You see, I've met her. How often does one get to meet a Miss America contestant live and in the flesh? I would imagine the answer is "not too often".

Liz Cochran is Miss Alabama 2009 and is competing for tonight's crown.

I sat down in church one Sunday morning this past June and the preacher began making his announcements. He told us that our very own Liz had won the Miss Alabama pageant the night before and would be competing in the Miss America pageant in January. In my head, it went down something like this: OUR very own Liz Cochran? What does he me- OHMYWORD!!!! SHEGOESHERE!!!!!! Breathe, Jfer, breathe. Calm down. You can NOT stand up and holler in the middle of church!

I didn't get to meet her that day.

Fast forward to October. The kids are in school and are settled into their routines. Slick's October calendar that's stapled inside his folder has "Miss Alabama visit" on one of the dates.

*wheels turning*

*comprehension*

Ohmygosh-she's coming to the school!!! *squeal*

I made up my mind right then and there that I was going to whatever presentation she was giving to the kids. I honestly would not have cared if she was going to set a bag of snakes loose as her presentation, I was going to be there.

I showed up and waited for my daughter's turn to see Liz. As it turns out, she shared her platform "With Every Beat" which focuses on cardiovascular and heart health. She's even written a children's book and shared the book with the children that day. She's a smart, beautiful and very accomplished young lady. Alabama has a great representative tonight. The part I'm most proud of is the fact that she's a Christian and isn't afraid to admit it.

I managed to get a picture with her as well as one with her and Poodle. I can't express to you how over the moon I was at just the opportunity to meet her as well as for Poodle to meet her and to have a positive role model who is in the public eye. Most "celebrities" leave a lot to be desired. Not so with Miss Cochran.

I'd like to close with a journal I wrote on March 1, 2009. This was before I knew anything about Liz. I wrote this on CafeMom as the result of one of their prompts of the day. The subject was "What did you want to be when you grew up?" I titled it "Aspirations of a Young Girl".

"What did I want to be when I grew up? That's one of my favorite questions. This is a journal I wanted to write but didn't realize it until today's question was posed.

Are you ready for this?

Did I strive to be a doctor? Lawyer? Orthodontist? Vet? Teacher? Sure, for a few days over the course of many years throughout my childhood and teenaged years.

What I REALLY wanted was to be Miss America.

WHAT?!

Yes, Miss America. You know...Atlantic City, tiaras, flowers and some schmaltzy guy singing "There she is...Miss America. There she is, your ideal."

I'm a girly-girl by nature; ruffles and bows and dresses with full skirts were all appealing to me as a child. They still are to an extent. Maybe it was the glitz and glamour of being THE prettiest and THE best liked in the eyes of the judges. I was never even in pageants. It was just something that I really wanted to be. I mean, not too many women on this planet can claim that title.

I don't have Daddy issues or anything like that. Maybe it's because I wasn't in with the popular crowd during any of my school career that I had this secret desire to stand out in such a way.

I still watch the pageant every year. When they announce Miss Georgia and Miss Alabama I get super excited as they are from two states that are near and dear to my heart. I have little daydreams when they're announcing the winner that it's one of MY girls strolling down that runway. The mere thought makes my eyes well up with tears of pride every year and they're no where near of age to participate.

Maybe if I get my butt in gear and drop a few pounds I could try for Mrs. America. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm all I need to be for my family and my husband just the way I am. That epiphany alone is worth a tiara and a gorgeous bouquet of red roses, in my opinion."

I leave you with pics of myself and Poodle with Miss Alabama 2009, Liz Cochran. Poodle and I will be rooting for you tonight! GO LIZ!

That's me on the left, in case you were confused. ; )

The things we do for love

If you're a mom, you'll definitely be able to relate to this post. If not, you'll most likely still understand.

Most mothers have some sort of change that occurs within their brains shortly after giving birth. I don't exactly know what it's called, but I refer to it as "I'd-jump-in-front-of-a-Mack-truck-to-save-my-child-itis". Any mom that's truly bonded with her child(ren) knows precisely what I'm talking about. Fortunately, for both them and myself, I've never had to jump in front of a Peterbilt or a CSX Transportation 9:37 Special in order to save one of my children. I hope I never have to, to be quite honest.

However, there are other things we do that are no less important but are still worthy of the same level of devotion.

Today's post refers to The Noob. Noob has a very, very special stuffed animal she carries with her most anywhere we go. This creature is simply known as Bunny. Bunny travels with us when we take The Mouth and Slick to school in the morning. Bunny is always present at naptime and bedtime. Bunny goes to the grocery store, the church, and pretty much anywhere else you can think of. Bunny also goes to the YMCA while I work out to keep The Noob company.

This morning, I changed into my workout clothes and told The Noob, "C'mon! It's time to go to the YMCA!"

Her eager reply was, "We go to tha CA?"

I said, "Yep! Get your binky, get your bunny and let's get our shoes on and go. Okay?"

"Okay, Mommy!"

We loaded up, drove there, got out and went inside. I completed my workout and went to retrieve her from the nursery. As she exited the nursery, I asked her, "Did you bring your bunny?" I honestly couldn't remember if she'd brought it with her because I didn't remember it being in her hand as we went down the stairs as we were leaving the house.

She looked up at me and replied, "No. He at home."

I said, "Well, okay, let's go." We strolled outside and loaded up and went on our merry way.

Upon our arrival at home, I made a mental note to look around for Bunny. It's really odd for Bunny to go missing or to be too far out of the way. I got myself cleaned up from my workout and we headed out to pick up some things from the grocery store. I asked her, "Where's your bunny? Are you bringing him with us?"

"He at the CA, Mommy."

"Say what?"

"He nite-nite."

At this point I'm rather perpexed as to Bunny's actual whereabouts. Bunny might be hiding out in The Great Beyond (aka the second floor of my house). I'm also running out of time to get all the things done that I need to get done before it's time to pick up The Mouth and Slick from the bus stop. I said, "Come on, let's just go. We'll find Bunny later."

We loaded, ran our errands, and still made it back in time for the bus. When they got home, I started quizzing them to see if they had any clue where Bunny was hiding. Both of them looked at me and shrugged their shoulders in an "I don't know" fashion. At this point, I'm starting to realize that I might not get any sleep tonight if I don't find this nappy little rabbit. The only thing I can think of is that is must be at the Y.

I should, at this point, mention the fact that it's raining cats and dogs and is about 38 degrees outside.

I am now realizing that I have to get out in the messy weather. At 5:00 PM. On a Friday afternoon. In the pouring rain.

"Come on, y'all. Load up. We have to go find Bunny."

We load up and get out on the wet roads. I arrive at the Y and make my way to the nursery area.

*knock knock knock*

"I think we left Noob's bunny here this morning. Have y'all seen it?"

"Oh, this thing?! This thing gets left here all the time!"

Oh thank you, Lord Jesus. Bunny is safe now.

And that's the things you do for love. You drive through the pouring rain and rush-hour traffic to retrieve a stuffed rabbit that you know means the world to your dear little one.

And I'd do it again and again if it made her happy. 'Cause I love her that much.

Immersion: Before

I'm scheduled to be baptized by immersion this Sunday. Poodle is going with me. It will be a memorable day for all of us.

It's taken me a really long time to get to this point. Somewhere around six or seven years.

You might be asking, "What took her so long?! She's been a Christian as long as I've known her." Well, I'm not sure I have a clear answer for you but that's what today's blog is all about.

First, some history.

I've been in church since before I was born. My mom and dad first took me to church when I was a day shy of being two weeks old. That day would be February 16, 1975. I grew up there. Sunday school, Vacation Bible School, Wednesday nights, youth group, all of it. It's always been in my life and I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't cognizant of God's presence as a part of me and having an awareness of heaven. So, why haven't I been baptized before now? In my opinion, and I believe whole-heartedly that God would agree, I already have been baptized. You see, I grew up in the United Methodist Church. They believe in baptizing infants and they believe that one counts. I was baptized as an infant, sometime in May of 1975. As far as I'm concerned, as well as countless other Christians, I'm good. However, in order to join up with my current fellowship of believers, I must go through immersion.

As I mentioned earlier, it's taken me many years to finally be at peace with this decision. I never gave it a second thought until I began attending a Baptist church in May 2006. A staff pastor gently and carefully showed me the scriptures about Jesus being obedient and being immersed in the Jordan River. Cool. That's fine. That was his first time, too. He gave me the original Greek word "baptisto" which, literally translated, means to dip, plunge, or immerse. Fine. I see your logic. But why can't you understand that I have already been baptized?! For whatever reason, his gentleness just hardened my heart and made me very resistant to the act. Mine's been done. It counts. I'm good.

There was a time sometime in 2003 or 2004 when I was regularly attending a small women's group Bible study. We met weekly. We shared our hearts and we grew in God's word and we grew close to one another. Oddly enough, I felt the urge/calling to "sneak" over to the Baptist church directly across the street from my Methodist church and have them dunk me one good time. I was growing as a Christian and I felt like that's what God wanted me to do then. For whatever reason, I never went and then I had to deal with seven years of my own resistance and hard-headed-ness.

Now, back to the present. Poodle approached me sometime in late November/early December and informed me that she'd asked Jesus into her heart. I was overjoyed. I immediately asked her, "When?!?!" She replied, "Oh, back during the summer. I was hiding in Sam's closet while she was doing chores and I asked Jesus into my heart while I was waiting." *crickets* "Well...alrighty then!" (Further proof that Jesus truly does meet us where we are.) ; ) I asked her, "Do you want to go down to the front of the church and let everyone know about your decision?" At this point, I expected her to flake and retreat. She stood her ground. "Yep!" was her eager reply. "Well, okay. We'll talk to Mr. Jonathan this Sunday and get things arranged!" She did go down front the next Sunday, and stood there and prayed with Mr. Jonathan to receive Christ as her savior. Tears fell as I watched. Not hers, my own. She stood and shook hands as people congratulated her on her decision. She'll always remember that. I'll always remember that.

Seeing her take the step of faith and to readily agree to believer's baptism by immersion has softened me. (Oh yeah, she was baptized as an infant too and she knows it.) She's just being obedient and doing what she feels is right. Not because she's seen her friends do it, but because she wants to do it.

I'm ready to shove aside the legalities of being a certain denomination and to just start being a Christian and working for and serving God the best way I can. Until I take this step, I can't be of good service to this current fellowship of believers.
I've never stood in front of a body of believers and professed my faith in Christ, although most who know me already know where I stand. This Sunday, that will change. I will make a public profession of faith and readily say that Jesus is my savior.

Then, I'm going swimming.

Explanations

I'd like to attempt to offer you a peek inside my head and my being. I named my blog "Sippy Cups in my Couture". (Duh, we can see that.) I named it that because it reflects two different facets of me. The sippy cup part refers to my being a mom and the paraphernalia that has been invading my house for the past eight years. There are sippy cups and binkies and rattles and puzzles and blocks and Matchbox cars and Nintendo games and more binkies and even some of those useless, junky toys that come in your Happy Meal. The couture part refers to a deeper part of who I am. Of how I'm wired. I've always, as long as I can remember, been sort of a label whore. In elementary school, I wanted Nike or Reebok tennis shoes because they were hip and popular. In middle school, I wanted Guess? jeans because they were hip and popular (and almost everyone but me had a pair). In high school, there were too many to name, but I still wanted them. Why? I don't know. My grandfather was this way and I have a cousin whom I perceive is this way too. At any rate, I like fancy and pricey stuff. Can't help it. It's just who I am. And I currently am sporting a Burberry bowling bag style handbag, thanks to the generosity of The Boy (with some help in product selection from Fancy). I've had other designer purses and handbags since becoming a mom, but none that have been quite as nice as this one. However, one thing has remained the same: I've toted around a binky or a sippy or a Happy Meal toy or a Matchbox car and all the other aforementioned crap in my purse. Yep. A sippy cup full of milk in my direct-from-Harrod's-in-London handbag. So, that's a small glimpse of how I roll every day. I am a mom and a budding fashionista (well, in my own head). And it makes me happy. : )

Introductions

Well hey, y'all.

I figure if I'm going to be a blogger, then I better introduce you to my cast of characters. I am simply JFER. I'm sure the average moron can figure out what that's short for, but I'll keep it that way anyway. That's my self-induced moniker that I've used since high school and it'll probably be with me for the rest of my life. I just like it, that's why. We'll call my wonderful husband "King Waffle". Those who know me well will know why already. Next, my offspring: The Mouth (may also be referred to as Poodle), Slick and The Noob. Other supporting characters are Nanny and Paw Paw, The Boy (my brother), Fancy (his friend), and on the odd occasion you may hear about Grandma M and Grandpa D.

I decided to begin blogging because more than one person has said recently that they find my writings and musings to be remotely humorous. My local support group (aka MOPS) regularly tells me, "Girl! I crack up at your Facebook posts!" Grandpa D tells me I have some sort of untapped gift and that I should enroll at the community college and take a writing course/class to inspire me to write. That'd be completely doable if I could have quarters shoot out my nose every time I sneezed. King Waffle thinks I'm sort of funny, too, and is a large source of helping me find my own sense of humor. So, since I don't have that quarter affliction and I am largely sitting in a yellow house all day long, I'll attempt to humor you through this avenue. I hope you'll find me entertaining and will visit me often. Or at least weekly.