Enjoy them while you can

In the Tree House: Enjoy Them While you Can

By: Samantha S. Daviss

This past week has been extremely trying on our family, but I must say we have pulled together and battled through all the difficulties that we have endured.

My sweet, sweet mother in law, whom I adore, suffered a massive heart attack; but she is doing better, and her spirits are high and hopeful. But through all this, if I haven’t taken anything from it, I have certainly taken away the fact that you need to enjoy your loved ones while you have them in your life.

My husband has always been extremely close to his mom, which is one of the things that I love the most about him; which made it all the more easy for me to love her as well. Even when my husband and I were just dating, his mom immediately loved me, accepted me into the family with open arms, and has treated me like a daughter from day one. She and I have a very healthy, strong, and open relationship.

There was no judgment, no questions, just the fact that if her son loved me, she loved me. And the feeling is mutual, I feel extremely blessed and fortunate to have a mother I love immensely and a mother in law that I adore, so you could say I am double blessed.

But as I mentioned she is doing well and her spirits are high and hopeful, mainly due to the support and love she is receiving from all of her friends and family. Which got me thinking, why do we always go out of our way to visit someone while they are in the hospital, or sick, or even come to their funeral? Now don’t get me wrong, I am not saying we shouldn’t visit someone while they are in the hospital, sick or honor their life at their funeral; but what I am saying, is that we all seem to get so busy in life, that we forget to visit those people that are important to us, that we may not see on a daily basis, to just stop by for a quick visit to see how things are going in their life, or give them a quick ring on the phone.

The visitors, cards, and flowers are all so wonderful to someone who is sick or ailing in the hospital, because it lets them know that you are thinking of them. That support, I think, is so important not only to their emotions, but to their spirits and recovery as well. However, I think we should all take the time to let the people we love the most in this world know that we love them and care for them on a daily basis.

Don’t let another moment slip by without picking up the phone to that college friend you haven’t spoken to in months, and just let them know you care and are thinking about them. Because my theory is, is if the next time you see them is at their funeral, they won’t know you were there.

I’ve always told my husband, that at my funeral, I don’t want any sadness, I want a party! Why would I want all my loved ones moping around in all black and crying? I want everyone to have a party…wear red, wear jeans, just be comfortable, be happy that I had a wonderful life filled with great friends, family, an incredible husband and three perfect kids. Have some champagne, have some cake, don’t be burdened with the fact that I am gone, be happy that I was here. But that is just my philosophy on my life.

I am not trying to sound morbid at all, I am just trying to remind all of us that the past is the past, the future is unknown, but the present is a gift in the here and now; so why not enjoy and cherish those we love the most, now?

So when you have a loved one that is ill, continue to check on them, visit them and send your love and concern…but also remember to enjoy them and tell them so, while they are happy and healthy too.

Small Town Normalities

In the Tree House: Small Town Normalities

By: Samantha Stroube Daviss

My primary job as a real estate appraiser definitely takes me out of my comfort zone; I have been places, seen things, and encountered happenings that I wouldn’t normally encounter on an everyday basis. But this week being out on an appraisal with my dad, something happened, that made me giggle, and be so appreciative of living in a small town and being a native Texan.

This column is just meant for a quick giggle and to see if you know what I am talking about, and how many of these you can relate to, personally.

You can take a person out of a small Texas town, but you can’t take the small town out of a person…

You know you are form a small Texas town if…

15) When you see the football stadium lights, reminds you that it is Friday night;

14) You are introduced to a stranger as who your “kin folk” are, and what “they did” for a living;

13) You aren’t introduced by your name (or if you are a female, by your married name) you are introduced as someone’s grandchild or great grandchild (and by your maiden name, not your married name);

12) Directions are given by turning or stopping at landmarks that existed some 30 odd years ago at that particular spot;

11) When you see a tractor rolling down a major highway, as a mode of transportation and it’s not considered odd;

10) When the shoulder of a road is considered (or treated as) a “passing lane”;

9) Your dream car is a loaded SUV or pickup truck;

8) Boones Farm and Box Wine is your drink of choice;

7) Everyone gets excited about a new drive thru restaurant or the talk of a new Super Store coming to your town;

6) Seeing a sign on the side of a major highway leading out of town warning you that the horses are tethered with a sign that reads “Ponies aren’t lose”;

5) You wave to a total stranger on a back farm to market road and not even think twice about waving;

4) The first date you had (with your future husband) was a balancing contest on the rails of a railroad track off some forgotten road;

3) When you tell someone you will meet them at “The Y”, and you don’t mean the YMCA, you mean an actual “Y” in the dirt road;

2) If your country club has a little more “country” and a little less “club”;

And the #1 reason that lets you know you are from a small Texas town, love it, and wouldn’t trade it for the world or another lifestyle is…

1)When you are out on a back farm to market road, cattle are loose, so you call 9-1-1 to report it and the operator doesn’t hesitate to answer your request.

Everyone comes from different walks of life…and lives in different places. But it’s what you make of it and how much you enjoy it. Ignore the bad, make the good shine through, and just enjoy what you have been given. Never live your life wondering if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.

Pat Down from Hell

In the Tree House: Pat Down from Hell

By: Samantha S. Daviss

Another adventure, another trip, another encounter with TSA under our belts…so it’s time once again to sit back be oh so thankful you weren’t with us!

Our family decided to take a quick trip up to the Rocky Mountains recently, to try and beat some of this Texas heat. But by family trip I mean, I got to travel with all three kids, all by myself for the very first time…so you see, this is going to be a good one…

 Our daddy/my husband was working, but he was flying into Denver later that evening to meet us there, but in the mean time “Good ol’ Mom” braved the adventure on her own.

So everything was going great. The packing went smoothly; I got myself and the two babies in one large duffle bag for five whole days; and our oldest in a smaller duffle bag. Not too bad if I do say so myself.

                Sidebar: I think if there were a degree from a university in packing, cramming, sitting, stretching, and all together maneuvering luggage so it will hold everything you need…I would have a gosh darn PhD in it.

And I did it all in a timely manner, I started about four days before our trip, so I wasn’t stressed or panicked, and I knew everything was washed and ready to go. And trip day finally arrived!! We had a fairly early flight; it was around 9:30 that morning. So for most normal people, that can just throw their clothes on, grab their bags and head out the door, that’s not too much of a challenge—but a mother of three boys, who all they want to do is sleep and eat…it’s a challenge. So I got everyone up and charged at around 6am for a 6:45am departure from our driveway. Leaving us plenty of time to park and check in at Love Field, which is just an hour from our house.

We were all so excited. One last fun family vacation before the end of summer, and we were getting to see our daddy that night. So everyone was in a great mood and super excited. Once clothes were on, breakfasts were eaten, we were on the road. We missed our departure time by about 10 minutes, so not too bad for a dumb ol’ girl and three monkeys.

All was well until we hit the outskirts of downtown Dallas. As my oldest used to call it when he was younger…”stinky town”, because of the sewage plant just as you enter the city. And that is my landmark reference, which is where the traffic was stopped!!! So needless to say I had about another 30 to 45 minutes until I reached the airport. And the clock was ticking.

We finally arrived; and what seemed to take an hour, found a parking spot in the garage; with only 45 minutes to spare until our flight left. So I was frantic. I strapped everyone into their strollers, and car seat carriers. My middle son was in this really cool device that you could attach his car seat to, and it turned it into a stroller. Well is wasn’t so cool, when my oldest was running to keep up with me and the poor baby got tumped out onto his head on the concrete of Love Field’s parking garage. But he took it like a man and the motley crew kept running.

Now picture this…it’s not just me and three boys running; it’s me;  three boys; one double stroller; another in a car seat stroller;  a huge diaper bag; another huge carry-on bag for snacks, toys and games; the youngest baby’s car seat; and two pieces of luggage. (Seeing the picture yet—still glad you aren’t with us, huh?)

We make it to check in. I am sweaty like a pig (yes folks sweating, not glistening like some Hollywood starlet, SWEATING). I check us all in, and the guy doesn’t see the baby (who is a lap child) to check in, because he is blocked and hidden in the stroller by the two massive bags. So after TSA sends us all the way back to check-in, to retrieve our boarding pass for the baby, we now (literally) have 10 minutes to get through TSA and R-U-N to our gate (still with a stroller, two big bags, and a car seat in tow).

We send our bags through the X-ray machine and of course as usual they have to check my diaper bag like 100 times. But that is no surprise to me.

But there has been a turn of events, the TSA lady pulls me to the side, and literally starts patting me down in places, I didn’t know I had (because I look pretty dangerous with three kids, two diaper bags, and a stroller). At this point I was balling crocodile tears down my face because we were going to miss our flight, and I kept telling her over and over, but she kept going slower and slower.

So she continued with my pat down, and by the time she finished, I felt like I needed to smoke a cigarette, she got that personal with me.

But while I was being rubbed down like Ana in Fifty Shades of Grey, the sweetest lady asked me what gate we were leaving out of…and she said she would tell the flight attendant we were stuck at TSA, but we were coming.

Once I was released from the jaws of TSA hell, we were all four on the move again…running like I have never run before. And as we arrived at the gate, the sweet lady that told the stewardess we were coming, met me back halfway down the hallway to tell me the flight had been delayed an hour!

I had never been so happy of a late flight in my entire life. I started crying all over again, like a baby, and she and I embraced in the middle of the Love Field terminal (yep, never seen her before in my life; and we are hugging like sisters). So after we collected ourselves, changed into fresh diapers (the babies, not me); it was time to board.

And yes again folks, I had my typical 10am (airplane) cocktail to start my trip out right. Here’s to travelling with the Daviss circus.

The Endless Bag

In the Tree House: The Endless Bag

By: Samantha S. Daviss

If you listen to country and western music at all, then you have probably heard the song by Robert Earl Keen, Five Pound Bass, it is one of his all time classics. Well the reason I bring this up, is to enlighten you into the throes of my diaper bag conundrums that I encounter from lugging around my massive diaper bag on a daily basis.

I always tell people you wouldn’t know it by my physique because I am not some exercise guru, or marathon queen, but I always say I can bench press a Buick. And from the daily happenings in my life with typically one 36-pounder on one hip; a 25-pounder on the other; a purse and this THING that I kindly refer to as a diaper bag…it is actually so heavy, I have to put both my boys in my double stroller before I can attach the bag to the handle of the stroller for the pure fact that it will dump over.

I never really thought about just how heavy it really was until my girlfriend picked it up for me one day to throw it into my stroller. I’ve always joked about it, and stated the obvious, that I have everything in it except for the kitchen sink. But in reality, I really think I do have everything in my diaper bag.

So upon her revelation of just how heavy my diaper bag was it got me thinking…hmmmm I wander just exactly what “The Beast” weighs? Well, it sure weighs more than that 5-pound bass…so I’ve decided to send Mr. Keen a rendition of his song, entitled 15-Pound Diaper Bag, making the lyrics about all its possessions and the daily activities it has to endure.

Ode of the diaper bag…

I know I am important, because she never leaves home without me.

My seams hurt on a daily basis because they are literally busting;

But my possessions are oh so important to the little people that sit on me, drag me, and ride me like a horse

In my depths you will find diapers, wipes, toy trucks and tiny little cars

Coloring books, crayons, snacks for all ages…and let’s not forget their sippy cups filled with juice

I also harbor a small first aid kit, a change of clothes for them both if there is an “accident”, and a bee sting kit just in case

Two blankets, sunscreen, bug spray, a rubber snake, a bendy bunny rabbit, and books for their learning enjoyment

And let’s not forget what’s inside the bag that’s inside me—powder, Clorox wipes, diaper rash cream, and any sort of baby paraphernalia you might need for an afternoon outing

So that is what’s on my insides, but my daily adventures are forces to be reckoned with

I get lifted, thrown into the back of the car, set on the dirty floor, hung from the stroller

Spilled on, colored on, crawled on, stepped on, loaded on top of

Yet at the end of the day I know I have served my purpose and been the best diaper bag that I could be, I was there for my family when they needed me.

I know talking about our diaper bag seems silly, but there are just some things in life that get overlooked that we take for granted that it will always be there at our beckon call, like a silly ol’ diaper bag. Now this isn’t necessarily about the life of our diaper bag, what’s in it, and what it has to go through on a daily basis…but it is about all of us recognizing the important things in our lives that we may overlook to be the simplest of objects or the people in our lives that we may overlook and take for granted.

Because one day you may turn around and that so-called “diaper bag” may be in shreds, torn, busted at the seams and needing to be discarded. So it is always important to pay attention and realize the importance of that “diaper bag” in your life and what it sacrifices for you on a daily basis.

Be kind to all of those around you, all those you love, and never leave each other’s sight without letting them know just exactly how you feel about them. My friends all make fun of me that when I leave them [and my family] for any period of time, I cry. It is a mixture of happy tears and sad tears, but nonetheless tears. They don’t last long, and I don’t make a big dramatic play of it, but in hindsight, my friends and family never ever walk away from me wondering where they stand in my life and in my heart.

Time Passes too Quickly

In the Tree House:  Time Passes too Quickly

By: Samantha S. Daviss

Oddly enough we had one of the best nights as a family, that I could remember us having in a long time. And when I tell you what we were doing to have so much fun, you are going to think we are nuts…but even during and after the fact my husband and I sat down and talked about how much fun it was.

The five of us were playing “hot potato” with a baby diaper. I know, I know it sounds weird, and a little gross too. But the diaper was clean, just to preface the oddity of our family. My husband and I had just changed the babies into their fresh diapers and PJs getting everyone ready for bed. They were up running around our room having fun and wrestling with each other. Then our oldest son came in, and for whatever reason, one of us started throwing the previous diaper around, yelling “Hot Potato”.

Do you remember playing that game as a kid? It was always one of my favorites to play on the play ground at recess with friends. It is where you, typically have a ball or a bean bag, not a diaper, and you toss it around the room or circle yelling “hot potato” and whomever ends up dropping it, has the “Hot Potato” last, and is essentially the loser.

But our game kind of had its own rules. We were basically just throwing a diaper around the room. Even the one-year old was joining in on the fun, and our two year old was going just absolutely nuts with excitement. He would run from person to person yelling at the top of his lungs “Hot Tato”. And our oldest was having a ball, sliding in on the carpet, launching the diaper at one of us.

Amongst all the fun, laughter, and chaos, all I could do was sit and watch my family, in sort of an out of body experience, hoping that somewhere, some other family was having as much fun together on a spontaneous occurrence as we were right then at that moment.

There were no cell phones, no TVs, and no computers running. It was just the Fab Five, having a ball together…and yes, it was because of a diaper that we were playing “Hot Potato” with. But that just goes to show, it is the simplest, most spontaneous things that can create the most fun in our lives. We don’t need big fancy toys, elaborate trips, or all the high-tech gadgets that we all think we need in our lives to be close tight-knit families.

But after about 30 minutes of playing and everyone being so happy and excited, it was getting late, and we had school the next day. So unfortunately, I had to play “bad cop”, and shut the game down and send everyone off to bed. When in actuality they should have probably all been in bed about 45 minutes sooner. But those are the precious times and moments in your life that you throw caution to the wind, and toss the rule book out the window, and just live in the moment. Those moments really don’t happen that often, but when they do, you need to learn to hang on to them and savor them to the last drop.

Ever heard the saying “Suck the marrow out of life”? Well this was one of those times. It was a moment in time that my little family was laughing, enjoying, and just having a ball with one another…and it just happened. No planning, no expenses, nothing…just pure fun.

So after my husband and I got everyone settled down and tucked in bed, we sat on the couch together laughing and talking about the fact that we couldn’t remember the last time we had so much fun with our kids as a family.

I can only hope that everyone, every once in a while, gets to experience the pure elated joy that our family experienced, together, playing “Hot Potato” with a baby’s diaper.

Lasting Bonds

In the Tree House: Lasting Bonds

By: Samantha S. Daviss

The older we get I think we begin to realize that life is not a popularity contest, more of a security contest. So my question is…why does it seem more difficult to form those deeper, longer lasting bonds than it seemed to be when we were younger? Were we just more open and accepting of people, their personalities, and their quirks when we were younger; and as we have grown older our friendships and relationships have grown too? Or as young adults were we too naïve to recognize any faults in our friends? Or as older adults are we just that much more critical and protective of ourselves, our families and whom we allow into our lives?

This thought crossed my mind not too long ago for one reason or another. And what was odd, is that very next day I was watching a talk show, and it was the subject of their group discussion segment, which I found to be extremely odd; but it put my mind at ease knowing that I was not the only person wondering this myself.

I think as young people or young adults we feel that if we aren’t surrounded by people at all times, and in the center of it all, then we aren’t popular, or well liked; and that of course is just the insecurity of being an adolescent or a teen. But as we grow older, we learn that we are who we are, and hopefully people will accept you for just that…the person you have become; and as adults we learn that sometimes it’s okay to stand alone, or be alone. In fact at times I crave alone time. Now don’t get me wrong there are those times in life that I may be having a bad day and feel lonely, but then I have to sit back and remind myself that my life is full of wonderful people—friends, family, acquaintances, and people I haven’t even met. So we are never truly alone.

Someone once told me, that if you leave this Earth with 3-5 really close friends, that truly know you inside and out, and still love you, then you have had a very successful life. So that leads me back to my question…as adults are we more critical of whom we allow in our lives, or are we just more protective? My point is, as adults are we more apt to pick out people’s flaws, or are we still just as accepting as we were as teens, but now we are just more protective and thorough on our selection process.

Meaning, we make new friends, but we are more cognitively aware of the personality types that really jive with our personality because we have grown up, and we know what type of person works best with our personality or agree with our outlook or philosophy on life in general. I personally think it is the latter. I don’t think we become more closed off or more critical about who our friends are as we get older; I just think we are more aware of who we are as adults, which allows us to step back and really get to know someone, and decide if their personality traits work with ours.

Because let’s face it, we are all so busy as adults, with kids, jobs, activities, travel, school, you name it; it’s on our plates on a daily basis. So I think we are just more aware of who fits into our lifestyle better than others. That, and we realize, that we aren’t running for homecoming or prom anymore, so not everyone in the entire world has to like you. And that is another great piece of advice I received as a maturing adult (way back) in my twenties…not everyone will or has to like you; and that’s okay. It doesn’t make you a bad person or them a bad person, it just means that on some level you guys don’t connect.

So remember, whether you are standing in a crowded room, or in the middle of a rain storm all alone; you need to be comfortable with who you are and who you surround yourself with…you never are truly alone in the world. And those bonds and friendships you have made throughout your life, the ones that you call family are far and few between, so recognize them, hold on to them, and never ever take them for granted.

My Cup Runneth Over

In the Tree House:  Mom’s Cup Runneth Over

By: Samantha S. Daviss

For the second year in a row we sent our oldest son off to summer camp. It was the same camp I went to as a kid, so I know it is fantastic and he has a blast while he is there. The thing I love most about sending him there is we get to hear great stories from him year-round, until we are ready to pack his trunk up again for the next summer.

As a mother of three boys, I know there is a fine line that I have to walk, especially as they get older. I can’t slobber my kisses all over them, or hug them in public, or hold their hand for fear of utter humiliation on their part. God forbid mom gets to show any affection to her baby boy in front of “the guys”. But I get it, I really do; and sometimes my husband has to reign me in and tell me to stop smooching all over him, because he’ll never hear the end of it.

But I still know that no matter how old he gets, he still loves dear old mom. It’s the times that we build a fort together in the middle of the living room and crawl underneath to talk about his day or to talk about him leaving for camp and all the fun and exciting things he is going to get to do. It’s the times that we go out on our special one-on-one “dates” just to have a little “us” time; and he hates it when I call them dates, but at the end of our dinner and movie together, he tells me he had a great time.

But the ultimate sign that I know he truly does love dear old mom, no matter how big he gets, is when he is sitting on the bus that is about to whisk him away to camp and two fun-filled weeks of excitement; and he finds a seat by the window to sit and wave to me and give me our secret hand signal for “I love you” until the bus pulls out of the parking lot.

As we all sit in the parking lot in angst of loading the kids on to the bus, I watch all the mothers of girls run around fixing their hair, tightening their hair bows, climbing on to the bus to take pictures of them sitting in their seats with their camp friends; and I sit there and wonder just how far my son would have to crawl under the seat, if I climbed on his bus to take pictures of him and his buddies, to avoid the total and complete humiliation he just had to endure by his “dorky” mom.

But even though I am “not allowed” by virtue of the ‘Boy Code’ to humiliate, show too much affection, or annoy my sons in any way…essentially I have to remain calm, cool, and collected around my boys and their friends for the remainder of my life, showing no emotion whatsoever—it’s okay, because I know in my heart of hearts, that I am and always will be the first true “girl love” in their life.

And I can only hope that one day my boys find the kind of happiness in their marriage or relationships that I have found in my marriage; and I know that those girls will be the luckiest girls in the world if my boys love them even half as much as they love me and I love them.

People always ask me if I was disappointed that I never had a girl, and my response always is…”God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave me my three boys”.

So you see, even though boys’ love for their moms is slightly a bit more subtle than a girls’ love and affection; it’s the little signs you have to look for which make you appreciate their affection even that much more.