Monday, November 29, 2010

Mah Family

This is my side of the family- one brother, one sister, one sister in law, 8 grandchildren, my mom and us. (Sorry about cropping half of you out dan- I have no picasa skillz, I was doing well to just get it straightened.  What?  Propping a camera up on a recliner and figuring out the self timer is not a cake walk!)

 Thanksgiving was a blessing.  I so enjoy being with both of our families all on one day- and the kids were in absolute cousin overload.  I LOVED gathering with family on the holidays as a kid- mostly for the cousin factor- and I am so glad to see that mine thrive on it too. 
Here they are again- only just my nieces and nephews (with my kids too of course).  Man I love these people.

And here is the picture of Dan's family........................

Oh yeah- we didn't have time to take one because we managed to jet out the door to Old Navy before they closed at 8pm and then needed to be back to toys r us at 10 pm.  Not to mention get home for a couple hours sleep because we were back in my sister in laws driveway at 3:30am so that we could get in line for Target when they opened at 4am.  Might I just say that I treasure that time every year with Dan's family- our black friday shopping day.  I didn't even really have a whole lot I wanted to buy- but it was fun.  And this year Allyson joined our BFC (the black friday committee as so named by my niece).  So in my ride was Dan's mom and sister, Dana and Morgan (two of my nieces) and Allyson.  We rocked those sales and had a super fabulous time doing it!  I'm not sure we could have stuffed another bag in if we had tried- they were under our legs, beside the chairs and to the ceiling in the back.

You have your traditions- these are mine.  And I love them and the people that make them up.

Saturday, November 27, 2010


There was a time in my life when I couldn't remember back a time in years.  I remember when I was in my teenage years thinking 'ten years ago I was 6'.  I couldn't imagine being able to apply that type of measurement to time- it was moving so slowly.

And now it seems to go so very fast. 

In 10 short years I have raised a small baby into a preteen, birthed two additional children, moved homes, experienced life as an elementary school mom, sat in a waiting room while doctors removed cancer from my mothers body, cried as my brother moved his family several states away- and then rejoiced when he moved them back, shed tears of laughter and sorrow, mourned the loss of precious lives, been to several fabulous places on vacations, bought not one but TWO mini-vans, sat agast as the world trade towers fell, experienced our country at war, seen nephews and my niece graduate and grow into adults.  All in just ten short years.

All ten of them without my dad.  Ten short years ago today I sat in his hospital room as his heart stopped beating, I was holding his hand.  I wanted him so much to not die, but I knew it was going to happen.  I promised him I would take care of my mom, I told him to go, I tried to convince my heart it was okay. 

November always brings memories of him.  It's hard to shake the fact that he is gone most days- but November is especially hard.  Tomorrow another year will begin.  Another year that moves us a little farther from when he was here.  They are somewhat right- those who say time heals all wounds.  In many ways, I suppose the wounds of grief have changed.  I would say that, rather than heal.  Healing means something goes back to normal.  And that is far from the case.  But we have adjusted to a new normal I suppose.

There was a time that I couldn't begin to imagine how life would feel without him in in, and now I suppose time has moved us so far that the opposite rings true.  I can't imagine having him back- we've gone so long without him.

He would be proud of my mom.  She is taking control of herself and she is becoming stronger and better.  She has handled his passing with grace, but I can see that she is anxious for the day she gets to see him again.  We all are I suppose. He would never believe my sister and her kids and how big they are.  I bet he and Zach would really enjoy 'talking shop' about his new car.  I wonder if he would see his resemblance in Randy- and if he would still call my niece rachel-rachel.  And I just know he would have loved emi and sam.  Oh how he would have enjoyed them.  Sam would have so enjoyed hanging out with my dad. I hate that he never got to work in the garage with him. And I bet his little 'tookie bookie' would take his breath away- for she is becoming a woman. 

Ten whole years.  It kind of sucks the air right out of my lungs.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving!

May your home be warm, your heart be full and your life be blessed.
From me and my turkeys to yours- I hope it is a wonderful holiday for you!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Where is mind that is

For mothers day- Dan bought me a set of two beautiful casserole dishes.  We had been shopping for a housewarming gift and he must have noticed me caressing them in the store and low and behold there they were on my special day in May.  It was nice.  Not only because I got me some gorgeous dishes (which may take the focus off of the mediocre food I plan to put in them) but because he noticed and picked them out special just for me.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago.  See, all of our cabinets are JAM FREAKIN' PACKED so I have had to do some creative cramming to find spots for these bad boys.  I was looking for one- the smaller one- for whatever I was making.  And I looked.  And I looked.  And I looked.  Nowhere.  I may have even screamed a little- I was pretty frustrated.  I can't imagine where on earth it could be- I even looked in the bottom barbeque tool drawer (which is where the bigger version of this dish lives).

I gave up- used something else- and never did find it.

Yesterday I was cleaning.  Really cleaning.  Like I hadn't done in apparently, well, ever.  There were cobwebs on the ceilings, dust on everything (more like a light coating of fur), and horribleness on the walls.  It was a marathon of cleaning day that involved a 6 foot ladder, vacume cleaner attachments, and comet cleanser.  And once all of that was done, I got to start with the 'regular' cleaning of toilets, sinks, dusting, mirrors, floors- you know the drill.  I turned to polish the kitchen table- the one we eat dinner at every.single.night and looky what I found..........
Oh- that's right.  I filled that dish with gourds a few weeks ago for Fall.

Now all I have to look for is my mind.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

A message to my husband.

Dearest Dan,

I know you read this occassionally while you are at work (cough cough 'anonymous commenter' cough).

Therefore- I have a rather urgent message for you.  I was upstairs cleaning a moment ago.  No that is not the urgent message.  Stop.  This is serious.

There is a mouse up there, again.  I did everything I know to do- scream and throw things.  Now it is up to you.  When you arrive in our home in a few hours, please come with a plan to get rid of our guest.  Either that- or we are moving.  I am not joking.  So.not.joking.

I'm not sure how he got up there- and I'm not really sure I care.  Perhaps he is an acrobat.  Whatever. What I do know is that we can not both occupy this same space- as in this house.

So let me know if I should start packing or just hang out on this chair until you get here.

Not joking.

Love- Mynde

My kids are at it again

Occassionally I download pictures from my camera and I get a much needed surprise..........
because it reminds me that these guys are my absolute favorite things in the world.
(there were pictures of Sam in the tubby on there as well- but I'm saving those for his wedding).

Monday, November 22, 2010

The real deal

There are many different stories about motherhood out there.  How it makes you strong, beautiful, full of grace, compassionate, complete.............lies, lies, lies I tell you.

It makes you flippin' crazy is what it does.  They fill you with grief, pain and strife.

Yesterday after spending the afternoon helping with my moms leaves and then picking the biggest up from a birthday party (at a super spectacular fun place where I had to take Emily and Sam into to get her and then explain why WE weren't staying to party for hours on end) (might I add that I had gutter sludge all over my hair, face and shirt) (and I was all yucky from bagging leaves) we headed to our house to bag a few of our own leaves.  I had decided to let the kids off the hook.  They could just play while I worked in the beautiful Fall weather outside.

Plus Dan showed me how to operate our fancy gas powered leaf blower and I was all over that bad boy.  I had a plan to blow all those dag gone leaves into the neighbors driveway and plead ignorance- and I was stickin to it.  Or I was going to blow them into a pile and bag them- however it panned out.

So I finally get the thing to start and I hoist it onto my back (it's like a little 85 lb. back pack- I felt like a space man) I started my work.  No kidding- every 4.5 minutes someone was falling apart.  They scratched their leg, they hit their head, someone took something, someone pushed someone, and on and on and on.  Mind you- I have the equivalent of a lawnmower STRAPPED TO MY BACK  and my hearing is completely shot by the super sonic jet noise that is right by my head.  So I was doing my best to try and read their lips and look over their bodies for obvious damage.

I finally left the front yard and went to the back just to get away from their bickering.


But no- they can't take my evil stares seriously- the biggest and middlest get into a real whammy and end up hitting each other.  I don't know who hit first (but I have a theory) or why (yup- have a theory there too) but it was the last straw.  I chased them down and spanked each one of them- with my jet pack still running full force on my back.

And then I did the unthinkable.  I gave them a trash bag, a rake and 30 minutes to bag up two big piles of leaves...............together.  I told them to go work together and that this labor was their punishment for not being able to go 3 minutes without fighting.  Ally and Emily were the only offenders.............and upon hearing of work assignments Sam split like a craitor.  Didn't see him again.

By this point my blowing was done and I took off that monstrocity and headed to the opposite end of the yard to be as far from them and their whining as possible.  And I began stuffing leaves into bags.

They yelled at each other, they yelled at me, they flailed, they fought, they threw, they complained, and at one point they were walking around the yard like dogs.  I explained (loudly- from my pile of leaves- kind of like yelling) that if they had to stay out until midnight- they would bag up those two piles of leaves.

They yelled some more and fought some more and complained some more.

And then emily burst into tears and just cried and cried and cried...........really loudly.  As ally sat next to her complaining and yelling- all the while stuffing leaves into bags one handful at a time.

My neighbor was out in her yard and came to check on emily and I sware I screamed from my own pile of leaves to just get back in her house.......emily was fine, just throwing a fit, nice weather we're having, now leave me a alone I'm about to go postal and lock my kids in the attic thankyouverymuch.

They eventually finished those two piles.  I eventually finished my 6 bags.  And we all went into our house.

They didn't fight with each other anymore.  Those two at least.  Emily and Sam did though. But by then I was so worn that I couldn't even attend to them.

People say kids bring you joy............lie. (although they can- but not yesterday)
People say to have lots of kids so they will play together...............lie.
People say having kids provides extra hands for chores...............lie.
People say being a mother completes them..........lie. (yesterday I would have been more complete with a martini and a pedicure with a fabulous magazine).

On Thursday women all over the world will bow their heads and offer thanksgiving for their children.  But the episode of Sunday afternoon will still be too fresh and raw in my mind, so I won't.  It's not that I am not thankful (because I am), I just don't want to verbalize it.

I swear on every ounce of my being that if these three children do not stop fighting all of the time I am going to loose every single ounce of sanity that I have left.  Which isn't much.  So if you see me out wandering around babbling and crying............go to my house and watch the kids until Dan gets home, because I will have finally lost my mind.

****Disclaimer:  kids do bring you joy, completeness and purpose.  I am so very blessed to be a mother, and a mother to these three in particular.  I love them with every ounce of my being and I wouldn't really lock them in the attic or try and chase them with the leaf blower.  I was (am) just mad and needed to get it out there.  I now return you to your normally scheduled mindless ramblings.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Mothers need quiet time to stay sane

So yesterday I awoke at our normal un-natural time of day to begin shoving my children out of the house for school.  I made my coffee and went over to my calendar to see what was going to occupy my time that day.

And low and behold-------------nothing was on the calendar (the paper calendar that I keep on the wall- and write on with an actual pen- archaic I know, but still how I roll).

A whole day- what shall we do?  I know- oral surgery!  Yay me.

I have this spot on the front of my gums that keeps getting lower and lower and lower (like other parts of my body- ahem).  But the dentist said as long as it wasn't hurting it was no big deal.

Until last week- when it started swelling and hurting and hurting and swelling and bleeding.  So yesterday I took the plundge and called to let him hack my mouth to pieces with a laser.  Basically- he had to slice through that little flippity flap of skin that holds your bottom lip to your gums- where normal people have one of these things, I had two and it was pulling my gums down off my teeth.  Nice. 

(I blame my parents and their crappy DNA where teeth are concerned.  Nothing but teeth problems over here. And technically they should have to pay my medical bills- since they are all essentially their fault in the first place- can I get an amen?  Mom- I'll send a bill).

So I suppose you could say that I was gifted some me time yesterday.  If by 'me time' you mean being stabbed in the sensitive part of your mouth with needles until you can't speak any longer and then watching a man in special glasses burn the flesh in your mouth while inhaling the awesome aroma of melting skin and trying to count the smoke rings COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH.

Oh- and I cracked a filling.  So in a couple weeks I get to go back and let him stab around some more.  Sans laser this time.

You only WISH you were me. 

Monday, November 15, 2010

It's un natural

Oreo's without the cream filling are just sweet dry crackers.

Imagine Allyson's surprise when opening a package of cookies and finding that all of the beautiful goodness of icing middles had been removed by a certain four year old, stacked into a 'sandwich' and eaten all at once.

At least he didn't use his teeth.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

When all is right in my world

I tend to overcommit.  I try and do a bit too much.  And the sad thing is- I don't really do any of 'it' well.

But when my personal world is at peace- is at what I consider to be my perfect- is when I am home, in our home, the home that my husband and I have built together- and I am doing homemaking things.

I feel nothing short of complete when curled up on a bed with a small person, reading them a story, after a day of laundry, some cleaning, and preparing some sort of a dinner for them.  I'm not joking- it makes me feel like I am doing it right. Whatever IT might me.

What gets my guts in an uproar is trying to lace in children's activities, bake sales, working (somehow I thought that would offer me some completeness- I was sure off with that one), and other basic life commitments.

This week, for instance, one day I managed to cram through about 300 loads of laundry (complete with folding and put it away!), some cleaning in the house, playing time with Sam and and and I spent four hours making a packed with comfort food dinner.

That picture up there?  Those are noodles.  HOMEMADE noodles.  As in eggs, butter, flour, salt mix mix mix and roll roll roll roll.  Homemade noodles.  I felt like betty crocker.  And I felt close to my grandma- her recipe (I am so thankful for that handwritten recipe notecard) that she made every single family get together.  I sure miss her.

What is perfect with chicken and noodles?  Warm yeast rolls.  So even though I have sworn off EVER trying to make yeast rolls again, I decide I have grown and matured and I now can make fabulous yeast bread.  So I do.  And it rises.  And I punch and knead.  And it rises some more.

Chicken and noodles (homemade noodles- in case you missed that), warm yeast rolls, a big pot of green beans and mashed potatoes.

And since I was there- I whipped up 3 dozen carrot cake muffins (homemade again, shredded carrots, juicing lemons- the whole nine yards) and piped small little carrots on the top of each with cream cheese frosting.  2 dozen went into Sam's snack bucket (and it turns out the letter of the week was C- which I didn't plan but it worked beautifully and I totally pretended like our Carrot cake muffins were on purpose)- the others onto a cake plate for dessert.

Thank heavens for those muffins- they were the only part of dinner that I considered to be good.

The chicken and noodles- undercooked noodles that seemed a bit chewy to me.
The green beans- eh, okay I guess.  Who really 'likes' greenbeans anyway?
The mashed potatoes- perfect and delicious- but they were instant.  All I had to do was boil water.
The rolls?- like little rock hard yeasty biscuits.

What a disappointment.  To know that homemaking for your family is what makes your soul feel complete and whole- and not posess a single ability to do it right.  I am the one who is always one ingredient short of whatever she wants to bake, one hour short of the time needed to do whatever it is that needs done, the one screeching into the parking lot with some sad plate of something I promised to donate to some bakesale and arriving late because I completely forgot about it, the one who constantly tries to sew something beautiful and homemade and can't because she doesn't know how to sew and it turns out super horrible, I am the one in the kitchen loosing her temper with the children because she is trying to make a nice dinner to provide for them and can't cook to save my life and I'm getting frustrated.

I am the one who is constantly looking for that thing that will be mine, and I will be able to do it well.

And it apparently isn't homemade yeast rolls.  It might be instant mashed potatoes.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Dear Santa,

I want to give you a heads up- there is a certain four year old in my house that is going to be asking you for some pretty amazing things for Christmas.  He would like you to bring a dirt bike (as in a REAL one), a motorcycle that goes as fast as a car, a go cart, and a new helmet.

I am okay with the helmet.  I trust you will use your best judgement regarding the other items.

And by 'best judgement' I mean I expect you to bring a playdough set and some matchbox cars- and the biggest bestest safest helmet your elves can make.  Because this one is all boy, and apparently dreaming of being the next Evil Kinevil.

Oh- and also- start thinking now about how you are going to explain that just because he put it on his list, it is not a dead ringer that you'll be bringing it.  He has been busy at work trimming pictures from catalogs and gluing them to papers.  And he is just certain that you will be bringing it all.

Best judgement there as well please.

The momma with the uneasy feeling that emergency room visits will be in her future

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Don't mind me- I'm new here

 Every day, Sam requests my company to play.  Anything.  He doesn't care- he just wants to play......with me.  It is so hard sometimes to keep up with everything we as moms/wives are supposed to do, and still remember what an honor it is to be asked to play.  So every day- tired, busy, sick or not- we play.  And it is always a brightspot in my day.
 But this 'boy toy' world is all new for me.  I'm just a visitor in a world that really doesn't make sense to me.
 How do you really 'play' with cars.  They don't even have clothes that you can change.  And what is the point exactly of driving around and around and around?

 But Sam is patient with me- and he works with me.  Sometimes the good guys invite that bad guys over for cookies that their mommy is baking (my idea).  Sometimes we blast the bad guys and put them in jail (his idea).  Give and take.
 I always ask the action figures names.  He sometimes has super hero names like "Super Duper Elastic Stretchy Man".  Sometimes they already have a name- like Batman.  Sometimes he assigns foreign names "Evron Mid Pipeigh".

 Yesterday- as he presented me this nasty looking thing- I inquired as to the name.
His name is Fred.
And Fred has a baby in his belly Sam explained to me.  (Fred is really some kind of transformer thing that is both a human and animal- and his human head is folded up in his tummy- but since we don't know how to unfold him to transform it- Sam has come to a different conclusion).
In a sweet little baby voice- Sam was saying 'awww, isn't he cute' as he pointed to the helmet head inside of this yellow beasts tummy.
 I worry that he might not be getting the full effect of his toys.  I mean- he has those boy desires for good and evil, fighting and justice, speed and excitement.  But he is stuck with me as his playmate.
And I don't really 'get' it. 

I mean- the bat cave is nice and all.  But how functional is it really for a home?  It doesn't even have a kitchen or a bathroom.

 And the baby strollers are nice in the fact that they are adjustable in height, but the daddy's hands are curved funny and I have to pry their little guns out of them in order to make them grip the handles.
There's not even any furniture.

For Sam's sake- I just wish we had held onto the barbie dream house.
Now THAT is a proper super hero headquarter.
And a good place for Fred to raise his baby.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Training for a marathon

So- there is a lot of talk lately about running marathons.  Apparently that is something that is done in November.  I'm not sure.  But that makes sense since (ha!  sense since- try to find another sentence that you can do that in) it is not 4000 degrees.  So November marathons it is.

By a lot of talk, I mean a friend from church ran in one this weekend and some friends in new york ran in their little thing they were having.  By friends, I mean absolute strangers whose blogs I read and they have NO idea who I am.  And by little thing, I mean the New York City Marathon- which is apparently a pretty big deal.  In my head, Joe from church ran in the new york city marathon- because I'm not even sure we were having one here. Unless it is that chase a turkey (or something equally as catchy) race that is on Thanksgiving.  But since that is in the future it probably wasn't that.


Here are my tips for running a successful marathon.

1. Bring your chapstick.  Somehow I envision gasping for air and cold wind and I just know you will thank me for this.  Perhaps you could put it on a string like a little necklace.
2.  Pack your iphone.  Because you are sooooo going to be wanting to facebook and now you can- while you are running.  Give me a break- you are a champion- you can do this.
3. Pedometer.  I'm not sure, but I think this would come in handy.
4. Slip a chocolate covered doughnut in your pocket.  You will get hungry and tired and I've heard you are supposed to 'carb up' and this aught to do the trick.
5. Aluminum foil- to wrap the doughnut in.  Otherwise you will just end up looking like you pooped your pants as your doughnut melts through your clothes.
6. Wear your secret roller shoes.  I can only imagine that 26 miles is pretty taxing, you could pop those rollies out and skate your way to victory. Although there are probably rules or something- so just be sure and pop them back in before crossing that finish line.
7. A fanny pack.  It's what all the cool runners are doing- and in there you can stow your doughnut, chapstick, iphone- and throw a napkin in for good measure, because you don't want your post marathon pictures to have chocolate on your teeth.  Perhaps some gum too.  Oh- and some of those small bottles of liquor like you get in a hotel or on an airplane.  They will come in very handy around mile 15 (or 1 if you are me).
8. People will spend months training.  They will practice running, building up endurance, blah blah blah.  Just a complete waste of energy in my opinion.  They are just showing off and sucking up every opportunity to gather the glory by being all 'i'm training for a marathon'.  How good are you going to be to run a freakin' marathon if you have wasted all your good get up and go running for nothing every day for months prior????  Plus- when you get up and 'practice' running- there are no crowds cheering, no Gatorade stands, no bands playing.  Complete waste in my opinion.  Save it for the big race.
9.  Tape your drivers license to your belly.  That way if you do loose consciousness, you will be easily identified.

That about sums it up.  And with all of my marathon running experience (as in none-but I have driven 26 miles and that counts), I'm sure you will find these tips very helpful.

You're welcome.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Few things are more glamorous than this

Some feel that parenting a child tops the chart of the glamour scales.  When else can you parade around with smeary baby poop leakage on your pants or spit up squash on your shoulder and still receive sweet looks from strangers?  Top that with two day old pony tail hair and milk leaking from your boobs and you could rock any European runway.  Pretty glam folks.

Second on that list- pet ownership. 

Why- just this past Saturday morning when I was awakened by a pounding head full of grossness and lungs that felt like they weighed 3000 pounds- I was all up in my pet ownership business.  As I struggled to the kitchen to begin brewing my only chance of survival (coffee), I noticed that my super bling dog had apparently needed the facilities in the middle of the night and rather than wake me (he can be so considerate)- he just pooped on the dining room floor.  And as I was crawling around gathering it and scrubbing the finish off the floors to ensure it was, in fact, clean, I realized how super hot I must have looked.  What with my yoga pant jammies, pony tail hair and swollen eyes from SNOT, crawling around on the floor with a paper towel full of doggie doo.  Just like in the celeb magazines ya'll.  (By the way- does putting your doggies poop into the toilet count as having an animal toilet trained?  Just wondering)
Oh but it doesn't end there.  No way.

I head to the living room to numb my sorry head with some TV until my pain pills kick in and my coffee brews and in the darkness I notice 'something' in the middle of the floor.  I flick on the light (thank all things good and holy for not just grabbing 'it' in the dark) only to discover that Lewis has apparently gobbled up some kind of leafy something in the yard and gorged himself to the point of puking. 

Yay me.

Another opportunity to live the flashy dog ownership life.  So there I am- same hot mess of a woman who I described before in the dining room- only now in the living room- this time with scrubbing action on the rug.

My husband (who departed our house for work only a mere few minutes prior to me entering the kitchen) managed to walk past both of these torrential messes, leaving them for me.  I am a blessed woman.

Fast forward to Sunday.  Yesterday I kept catching a 'smell'.  Now my head is completely blocked up- so if I was noticing an actual scent, it means it was POWERFUL because I haven't smelled much of anything since Tuesday.  I cleaned the house, cleaned the floors, pulled out furniture to make sure nothing had died somewhere- what on earth is that smell?

Finally- it occurred to me.  It was Lewis.  He had gone out in the yard and rolled around.  In his poop.  Again.

As I wrestled our overgrown geriatric poop encrusted beagle into the bathtub at the end of an already long hard day- I found myself considering how glamorous the celebrities make pet ownership look.  And I wondered if those folks scrub their own poop out of carpets and fur?  Or if they have 'people' for that.

And I tried to envision Paris Hilton running around the neighbors yard at 6am waving a piece of bologna in her bath robe and dress shoes (because that is what was laying closest to the door) trying to tempt her little love muffin back into the house.

I'm off to see if I can find one of those fashionable doggie bags (you know- with the diamond studs and the spot for the dogs head to stick out)- only large enough to encase our 50 pound beagle.  I might have to look for one on wheels.  But I still will need a lot of bling.
After all- any dog that snores, gasps and growls when awake, throws up water every dag gone day, and howls every time Allyson plays her saxophone deserves all of the gorgeousness that he can get.
By the way- seen Toy Story 3?  Lewis is a dead ringer for that dog.  Only he's much sparklier.  And covered in poop.

Friday, November 5, 2010

This probably won't make any sense

Aliens have taken over my body.  They have filled my head with thick sludgy goop and my lungs with thickness and pain.  My head feels like it could burst at any moment- and my single largest prayer (although the relief would be insane) is that it doesn't because then I (being the mom) would be forced to clean that mess up.

Today my children will still need fed and clothed.  They will still want books, games and play time.  They will still demand (in their own brilliant loving way) a lot from this old sick body.  And I really hope that I have what it takes to give it to them.

For now, I am thinking of wrapping my head in a wet towel and crawling in the microwave.  The heat would be nice and the kids probably wouldn't find me there.  At least not quickly.

Being the mom means that when you get sick (because one of your children no doubt blessed you with some horrifying germs by using your lipstick, chapstick, deodorant, steeling drinks from your soda and sneezing right up in your face)- no body cares and life marches on.  And God gives us extra strength to do so.  Because somebody has to be the mom.

Thank heavens Burger King will let me have it my way- because he (the burger king) is in charge of dinner tonight.  And the way I want it is prepared by someone other than me.

Tomorrow Dan and are are supposed to sneak away to some hotel somewhere for an overnight without our children to celebrate our wedding anniversary that was a month ago.  We couldn't celebrate it like this then because our children have taken over our lives (and calendar) and there simply wasn't any time.

I hope dan finds snot and whimpering sexy.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Do you smell something?

The whole reason Sam is away at grandmas is for today. Today I was invited to attend a seminar that has to do with something that is very important to me.  Children's ministry.

Granted- I am no children's minister.  I am just a Jesus lovin' mom who saw a hole and a reason to buy glitter by the gallon and I stepped in.  It took a lot of prayin', but I stepped in (after I asked like 3000 times if this is REALLY what God wanted me to do).

I can imagine the other folks at this thing will be ACTUAL ministers- like with degrees.  Or possibly they are all just folks like myself trying to answer the call of the Lord.  Either way- it means that I have to change out of my jammies AND wear make up, all in one day.

This morning- while trying to tame my head, which is super curly today which means nothing but rain, I decided to not fight the curls.  I got to digging in the cabinet and I managed to find some hair gel.  Then I dug dug dug some more to find the hairspray.  Mind you- the only reason there is hairspray in the house is due to Allyson's halloween costume (80's valley girl) and her need for BIG hair (which is my specialty as a former 80's girl myself- thank you very much).

I grab the can and spray spray spray.  Think to myself that it sure is a super fine mist.  spray spray spray.  And it smells kind of strange.  Glance at can mid spray.  Antifungle foot spray.  Great.  I just douced my hair in funky foot fungus spray.  My hair that is ON MY HEAD.  Probably has a warning about not using near brain or something.  I guess I can mark off my worries about scalp itch, but brain damage is still on the horizon.  That and the looks when people begin glancing around to see what on earth THAT SMELL is at the seminar.

And this, my friends, is the reason I will never be able to re-enter the real work force- clearly being an adult is too much responsibility for me.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Biggie Girl Time

Yesterday, I watched as my favorite little man sacked up his sunflower blankie, his favorite talking cars, three wind up cars and his monkey underwear and jumped into the car with grandma and grandpa and left me. 

There have been times that the excitement in watching my children drive away with them has made my stomach feel fluttery and I even run into the house to absorb the quiet.  But not this time.  This time it broke my heart.  He was so excited to go for two.whole.nights! And for that, I am happy.  But it is the dawn of a new era for my little man, and that makes my heart heavy.  He is my baby- the last little person I have- and he is growing up lightening fast.

I have a childrens conference thing tomorrow, so I actually was the one to ask for their help in watching Sam.  I guess I just didn't realize they would take him for three whole days.  And I guess I didn't realize that I would spend the better part of those three whole days turning around to look for him.  I am so used to having company that it feels un-natural to be alone.

One might think that with three daytimes to myself that I would have wacky crazy plans like naps, haircuts, manicures...........but no.  It's still run your pants off marathon around here.  Work, work, work, school for lunch, work, work, work (got to make up for missing Wednesday afterall), piano lessons, basketball assessments (one each night thank you very much), a trip to the funeral home (that was a tough one), skating party................on and on and on.  I swear it never seams to end around here.

Don't forget to VOTE today!  But don't worry about picking my new living room color- they didn't have time to add that to the ballot.  Next time I suppose.

Monday, November 1, 2010

November already?

We have just finished running the marathon of fall breaks.  In four short days we attended the zoo boo, the pumpkin patch, the children's museum haunted house, we've carved pumpkins, visited make it and take it crafting mask time, had house guests, shared a bon fire complete with s'mores, had pumpkin shaped pizza, trick or treated and still managed to wash the mountain of dirty laundry that had accumulated in our house.
Although I am finding it hard to believe that today is the first day of November (really???)  I might be a little bit glad that these yahoos are going back to school.

But it really was a good four days.