Wednesday, September 28, 2011

It is well with my soul

A while back, I casually mentioned to Dan that at my funeral I really really really want the hymn Peace Like a River sung or played at my funeral- not that I plan to die anytime soon mind you.  But a detail, none the less, that I want remembered when I do.  He opened up a Word document on the computer titled Mynde's Funeral, I'm not even joking.  He made a document on our computer.  Uhg.  Back to my song:  It is such a comforting beautiful hymn, one that I truly enjoy singing any time that I am afforded the chance.  Today- on another blog I read- a very inspiring story was shared.  I completely copied it and am posting it here for you (like stealing only really not because I told her):

Many years ago just after the civil war, there was a lawyer who lived in the Michigan area. He had five children and loved God with all his heart. He was an extremely intelligent man and was friends with good men such at Dwight L. Moody. This man was a lawyer for doctors and was well loved. One day his little boy became gravely ill and had an infection that could not be treated. The little boy died. His father and mother were so sad over losing their precious little boy. But life goes on.
A few months later this man purchased a strip of properties along Lake Michigan. He intended to transform these buildings into housing and one in particular into a YMCA for his friend Mr. Moody. While making plans, a fire broke out along the water and completely destroyed all of the buildings on the property that this man owned. Feeling so discouraged and broken he sought out his good friend Phil who asked how he was doing and suggested that he take his family to Europe where Mr. Moody was in evangelistic work. This friend thought that he could use a get a way and would like to work with Mr. Moody. So the man made plans with his wife and four daughters to sail to Europe.
The night before they were to sail a knock came at the door and one of the city officials was there. He told this man that he would need to come to a meeting about the property that had been burned. The man explained that he and his family were to set sail the next day. The city official told him that if he didn't show up in two days to the meeting he would possibly lose his land. So he had no choice but to stay behind while his family went ahead to Europe.
While sailing the next day to Europe, there was a great fog that came up on the water; so bad that they could not see where they were going or anything in the way. Fog horns began to sound and bells began to blow as the great ship came into collision course with another ship. They could not avoid each other and the ships collided. It only took twelve minutes for the ship to sink. Most of the passengers were saved but this man's children were all lost at sea. Only his wife was saved.
When the man heard that his family, save his wife, was gone he bowed his head and wept. Why could this have happened? First his little boy, then his property and now his four beautiful daughters. How heavy this mans heart was. He made plans to sail to Europe to join his devastated wife. The grief that this couple shared could only be imagined. How their hearts were broke.
While aboard ship he asked the steward to please let him know when they reached the place where the first ship had gone down. When they reached that spot this man went to the top deck and stood by the rail weeping in agony over the loss of his dear children. It was then that God gently reminded him that He too had lost his Son Jesus. He whispered to this mans heart of the grief that He bore as He watched His Son die on the cross at the hands of cruel men. He then gently reminded this man that He was the peace giver.
Thus, Horatio G. Spafford wrote the beautiful words that we all know so well, It Is Well With My Soul. He sent them back to his friend in Michigan who put the words to music and it will forever be a great hymn of the church.
When peace like a river attendeth my way.
When sorrows like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet,
though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded
My helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood
for my soul.
My sin--Oh the bliss of this
glorious tho't.
My sin--not in part
but the whole.
Is nailed to His cross
And I bear it no more
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,
O my soul.
And, Lord, haste the day
when the faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back
as a scroll.
The trump shall resound

and the Lord shall descend
Even so--it is well with my soul.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Things I need to share- not that any are blogworthy

And what is really blogworthy anyway?  I'm not even sure.

Chaos is running amok and in the midst of it- I can't help but have these things lingering in my brain.  Things I need to share so that they will get out of my head.

1.  Sunday it rained.  And rained.  And rained.  Softball games were cancelled.  We went to the movies.  It was bliss.

2.  The other day I decided I needed to call and talk to my sister.  I hollered for the kids to bring me the cordless phone.  Typically Allyson has it 'somewhere' now that she has entered this telephone stage.  Only no one knew where it was.  Until Sam remembered that it was in his closet............ under his puzzles.

3.  Always ask the boy child first when something is missing- I just felt the need to emphasize this.

4.  Emily is starting to cough and wheeze again.  I can't get that girl healthy.

5.  Sam will get to attend his very first after school party and there will be tables of cookies, chips and candies for the kids to gorge on.  I can't even slow my breathing enough to explain how very nervous I am for this PEANUT ALLERGIC kid to have that kind of freedom.  I am currently rearranging my afternoon plans so that I can volunteer at the the snack station specifically.

6.  I keep trying to eat better and then by lunch I hang it up.  I have the will power of a snail.  Assuming snails don't have much will power.

7.  Allyson managed to hit Emily in the face with something Saturday while I was working that knocked Emily's front tooth wiggly and made it bleed.  Her permanent tooth.  Sigh.

8.  I have taken to making the kids a cup of hot tea every morning.  Emily is the only one who is really enjoying this.

9.  Every day when Allyson walks out the door for school I tell her that I love her.  She doesn't even acknowledge the fact that I am in the same room.  I love her anyway.

10.  3 days until the next slumber party. 

11.  I currently have two bouquets of fresh gorgeous flowers in my home- both given to me by very very special people.  They make me smile every time I see them.  I am so very blessed.

12.  I'm going to move one of the flower arrangements into the laundry room- apparently I am going to be in there a lot for the next few days and maybe they will make it a happy experience.  Holy Moly is our laundry basket over-flow-ething.

13.  Sam brought home info on his very first field trip.  I mentioned that I am going to indicate that I can chaperone if they need help.  He said that will be fine, as long as I stay out of he and his friends way.  I will try.

Monday, September 26, 2011


Today is my momma's birthday- and I have absolutely no idea how old she is.  Which is why I am really hoping that the doctors office is keeping good records because I'm depending on them to know this kind of important stuff. 

What I do know is that I forgot that I am out of butter, which means no homemade butter creme frosting for her. 

What I also know?  When I logged onto facebook this morning it had a notification that today was both of my mother's birthday's.  No- I don't have two mothers.  But I do have one mother with two facebook accounts, because once she created one she forgot her username/password/how to log in and spent months complaining about how her computer and facebook weren't working right.  Which is code for my mother is dangerous with anything even kind of technological.

Stay with me- because this next story is relative.  Trust me.

Yesterday, when leaving church, a friend asked if I could stop by on our way home from church.  Mind you- we had to drive right by said location on our way home- which was not even ten minutes later.  And yet I managed to completely forget and go straight home instead. 

Today- I want to lift up my mom and all of the blessings she has given to me in my life.  I have aquired many good qualities from her.  Her sharp as a tack memory is not one of them, and probably it's the biggest thing we share in common.  Dear heavens.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!  Here's hoping I remember to tell you that when I hopefully remember to call you in a little bit.  And that I remember where I put your birthday gift............

Friday, September 23, 2011

I'm cracking up.........

No, seriously.  This week has been painfully full and I am cracking.

Like looney bin, straight jackets, electroshock therapy over here.

My only hope is that this weekend goes quickly and I can score an ounce of normalcy (is that a word?) next week.  At least early in the week, because 'somebody' has their twelth birthday next weekend and their idiot mom consented to a slumber party.  Not that slumber parties are bad- they are just exhausting.  And my mom is having surgery later in the week.  And Sam's teacher will probably schedule more fancy themed days that will add to my stress level.

But for today- I will shop for a dinner for over 120 people and make centerpiece airplanes out of life savers and gum sticks.  And tomorrow I will run around like a nutjob setting up, preparing and following through with said dinner.  And then clean it all up.  And then come home and cry at the mess I anticipate my family leaving me in our home.  (It's the annual committee appreciation dinner for the air show time again).

But Sunday- no dinner for 100 people.  No crazy sock day.  No surgeries and No slumber party.

That's my day.  After church, nursery duty and an afternoon of softball practice that is.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Carmel Apple Butt Cake

This is not a cooking blog- nor will it ever be.  I cook because it is a requirement for my family to live.  Sometimes I actually enjoy cooking- sometimes.  Mainly saucy stuff with pasta.  Not so much beef.  But baking- oh dear I love to bake.  But this won't be a baking blog either.

But I have to share this, it is the right thing to do.
 THAT is an apple cake with carmel frosting.  Inside?
Pure deliciousness, including real apples, lots of brown sugar and a cream cheese filling.

I couldn't wait to bake this.  And the smell that filled the house while it was in the oven?  Heavenly.

And last night after dinner, when I served it to my family, they all gobbled it down like super yummy Fall carmel apple crack.

Which is why I am officially renaming this from what the kids keep calling it (apple butt cake) and it will officially now be known as Carmel Apple Crack Cake.

Make one today- it's the right thing to do.

Carmel Apple Crack Cake (formerly Apple Butt Cake)
(originally from Southern Living with some cream cheese apple cake title- blogged about by the coupon goddess which is how I found it- forever one of my favorite cake recipes in the universe.  the end)

Cream Cheese Filling:
1 8oz pkg cream cheese softened
1/4 cup butter softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
2 Tbsp all purpose flour
1 tsp vanilla

Apple Cake Batter:
1 cup finely chopped pecans (optional)
3 cups all purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground allspice
3 large eggs lightly beaten
3/4 cup canola oil 3/4 cup applesauce (used unsweetened)
1 tsp vanilla
3 cups peeled and finely chopped Gala apples
Praline Frosting:
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/4 cup butter
3 Tbsp milk
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup powdered sugar
Preheat oven to 350. Make filling by beating first three ingredients in mixer at medium speed. Add egg, flour and vanilla. Beat until blended and set aside in separate bowl while you make batter.

Toast pecans in oven for eight to ten minutes (I did not use nuts- Sam thanked me). In a large bowl; mix together three cups flour and next seven ingredients. Stir in eggs and next three ingredients. Mix just until incorporated. Add apples and pecans.

Spoon two thirds of the batter into buttered and floured Bundt pan. Spoon cream cheese mixture into the center of the batter. Use a knife to swirl the cream cheese mixture into the apple batter. Pour remaining batter on top. Bake for 1 hour or 1 hour and 15 minutes. Remove from oven and set on cooling rack for 15 minutes.  Try not to get a fork and start eating it right out of the pan.

Dump it out of the pan.

Let cool for two hours. (Might I add here- due to lack of planning I didn't have two hours.  I let it cool for like 30 minutes maybe before I poured on the frosting and served it warm.  I will never do it differently- it was so good warm).
 For frosting; bring brown sugar, butter and milk to a boil whisking constantly. Boil for one minute. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla. Whisk in powdered sugar. Stir gently for 3-5 minutes or until mixture begins to cool slightly. Pour over cake. Lick fingers and pot (once cooled of course).  Yum Yum Yum!  Gimme some!

Friday, September 16, 2011

I gots me some 'splanin to do!

Picture it- me, in my jammies (the flannel pants with little poodles and a regular old tanktop) out in the back yard at 6:30 this morning, in the dark, holding a ziplock bag of doggie doo over my head shouting "Victory is MINE!".

I know what you are thinking- 'Dang- too bad that next door house already sold, what a great place to live'.  Yeah- you missed your chance alright.

Yesterday was my Hell day- today is Hell day #2.  I'm not sure why or how I manage to cram so very super duper much into a days schedule, but I always do.  It's all or nothing over here it seems.  Then when you throw in children who forget jackets, forgotten grocery lists and stores that don't carry items I thought they would (and really they should)- even the best laid plans become derailed and end up with me having a nervous breakdown and crying over flippin' everything, including sticks of gum wrapped in plain white wrappers instead of silver foil (but that is a story for another day).

Clearly I need a personal assistant- to apply for the job just leave a message on this post and I'll hunt you down like a crazed serial killer running rampant on spring break week in Florida.  I mean, I'll be in touch.

It was almost 11pm when my day finally came to a close yesterday- and I was bushed.  And after a few hours of restless sleep, a forgotten alarm clock and a HUGE miracle that somehow woke me up on time this morning, I still am.

Today- our activities begin with an early morning vet trip for our new super chewer- Rosie.  And without even an ounce of reminder from the girl I scheduled it with- I remembered that I will need a bag of Rosies 'business'. Cue Hallelujah Chorus!  Now I can't even remember why or for what- but I know that I do.  At least I hope.  Because if not- I'm gonna feel kinda stupid.

So- right out of the gate this morning, Rosie needs to go outside.  So I grab my shoes- the ones without the fancy Z-Straps- rattle the girls beds and instruct them to get dressed already, and run into the great outdoors.  And I sit on the deck and watch.  And wait.  And watch.  And wait.  And finally- Rosie wanders into the ONLY area of the yard completely in shadows with no chance of any porch light offering assistance at all (shes nothing if not modest) and does her thing.  At least I assume, because I can't really see her.  Because it is dark- sheesh, try and keep up here people.

Once she comes back into the light- me and my ziplock head off to do our thing.  So carefully, I zig zag back and forth bent over with my face inches from the grass looking for 'it'.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  A mild success.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  Certain that I have probably stepped right in it- I decide to go find a flash light.

Only I have children- so there is not a single solitary flash light to be found.  Not one.  Anywhere.  Even the emergency one that I kept plugged in in the laundry room 'for emergencies ONLY' is not there.  I contemplate digging through a toybox- someone had a tinkerbell lantern and I'm pretty sure we had jack o lantern hand held light up things?  But first I check the garage- and low and behold- Dan brought home some super industrial magnetic flash light panel thing and I stuck it to the metal shelves, wayyyyy up on the top, and it is still there.  With working batteries.  Boo-Yah!

Back out in the yard, I recreate my previous pattern- only this time with light- and I manage to find the warm pile of doo that I need for our upcoming visit.

And that is the series of events that lead to my neighbors calling the looney bin to come and get me.

Here's hopin' they need this sample- otherwise I'm gonna go postal at the vets office.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Dear Rosie,

 You are a welcome new member of our family.  Even though I clearly didn't want the kids to try and catch you and trap you in our yard.  No offense, it's just that you are ugly.  And I assumed you were a vicious animal who was rabid.

 As luck would have it- the kids convinced me to at least help you to find your family.  And we tried.  But to no avail.  And by the time we figured out that no one was looking for you- we had fallen in love with your ugly self.
 Might I just say that you are amazing.  You are completely housebroken (yay!), playful and happy to be anywhere the kids are.  Even if they are smooshing you while taking a nap.
 And although I didn't particularly find it charming when you lept on my head and attacked my pony tail during last weeks lego fest- Allyson seems to find it quite fun.  And I enjoy hearing her laugh and scream- so it's a win win.
 So much for not allowing you on the furniture.  But I will draw the line at my bed.  You may NOT get on my bed.  Thank you.
I'm anxious for your first vet visit to find out what exactly kind of ugly dog you might be as well as how old she might guess for your age.  Which I fully expect to be puppy of some sort.  Which brings me to my next point............
Please stop eating our shoes.  This is the SECOND pair of my shoes that you have destroyed. Although the black heels were probably well past their useful life, so I should thank you for that.  However, I personally LOVED the Z straps on my brand new shoes, the ones I JUST bought, and I might not forget about this anytime soon.  And the girls are almost completely out of flip flops now- Allyson for one seems a little angry about that.

Should you need to chew on something during the day time 3 hours that you are actually here alone- and you don't find any of the acutal chew toys we have purchased for you of interest- please try and keep it to the mountains of useless unplayed with toys laying around (good job on the singing dancing love bug and the train whistle, by the way, those will not be missed).

Thanks for coming to our family.  Even if we are just shoeless hillbillies without the ability to whistle like a train.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

A faux what?

Sam had been in school for a whole single solitary day when he produced himself in my bedroom, fresh from the bathtub, with a single line of hair staning up all the way down his head, forehead to neck.

He was so proud.

I was astonished.

He had only been in the influence of other children for 2 hours 55 minutes so far, and he had discovered the faux-hawk.  And he was LOVING it, ya'll.

So much so that on picture day last week- little man was insistent.  So with the help of my body envy mousse and my fat hair creme- we came up with this:

And he was happy.

It's no faux-hawk- that is for sure.  We went more for the standy uppy ledge across the front of his face.  It took a lot of product- and patience- but we got it.  And he rocked it. 

At least he doesn't want a 'tail'- right? (remember those nasty little things?  in fact- I think Billy Ray Cyrus may still have one sticking out from under that hair of his. yucky poo.)

Here's hoping that this is the last nasty thing those school boys teach him.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Seeing the world

We don't 'travel'

And we probably never will.

Because every single time it seems that there might be extra money for something frivilous, there isn't.  Because frivilous doesn't live in a house with five people, two guinea pigs, a fish and an ugly dog.

Frivilous lives down the road, with the people who never had kids.

Would I want to live there instead?  Never.  But do I want to vacation with them?  Yes.

The end.

Monday, September 12, 2011

The reason Mondays are one of my favorites

Five years ago, I had the blessing of meeting a very gentle, kind, Jesus loving woman.  One who we probably would have never met, had we not had a child who desired to learn the piano.
Mrs. Rose.

She lives in the next neighborhood over and teaches the piano from her living room.  She is kind, gentle, loving, and firm.  She taught elementary school for years, has played the church organ every Sunday for longer, and has a true and honest love of children..........and music.

From the moment I spoke to her on the phone, I could not wait to meet her.  The kindness was present even just in her voice.  I am forever changed because of this single solitary woman.
I can't explain it.  Being around her wants me to be gentler.  Kinder.  More faithful.
She lives her love of the Lord.  And she teaches piano so that she can share the gift of music.
And on more than one occassion I have thanked God for the blessing of bringing her into our lives.

 Recently, Emily began to take lessons each week in addition to Allyson.  And as I watched last week, I couldn't help the tears that filled my eyes as I saw my Emily sitting on the piano bench- feet not even reaching the floor- learning how to read and make music at the guidance of this fine woman.  There is not a single  other person I would want to teach her.
Even though Allyson still whines about not wanting to do lessons anymore,  I see more than just the benefit of utilizing the gift God has given her in her ability to play the piano.  I see the 30 minutes she gets each and every week with this fine woman, and in my heart I know that this experience is one that will forever change her life.  She doesn't know it today, probably not even next year, but someday I hope that she will look back on Mrs. Rose and the woman that she is and it will help mold her into the woman she will become.

I am so very thankful for her.  And that it's Monday and I'll get to see her tonight.
She has taught me so much, and I know she doesn't even realize that.

Friday, September 9, 2011

I'm all for celebrating but gee whiz

Allyson has an upcoming birthday.  It will land here in 22 days.  She has been talking about her 'party' since the Spring.  I'm not even joking.

And it was in the Spring that I told her a party for 100 of her closest friends was NOT going to happen.  Even if she could narrow it down to 50, if she had to.

Last night at dinner, I made the mistake of bringing the subject up again.  I am all for celebrating with the kids.  Every year, they get some choice of how they want to rock in another year.  We've had sleep overs, crafting parties, pizza parties, trips to chucke cheese, bowling adventures, we've been to Libby Lu, build a bear.......I'm pretty flexible ya'll.

But a party for 50 kids?  No- I draw the line here.  I can't possibly tend that many children.  Nor do I want to.  Who in their right mind would?

Do you know how my birthday has been celebrated for the past several years?  Maybe dinner out, maybe not.  Maybe a cake, maybe not.  Always a nice gift.  But a day full of chores and work, yes.  And then we all go to bed.  The end. 

So to say I'm not thinking that renting out the community room at the fire station or our church is an option would be an understatement.  I'm willing to drag a few kids out for an activity (miniature golf, go carts, dinner, movie, whatever) or I'm willing to have a few more kids to the house to play hide and seek, giggle and argue.  But, help me, I can't imagine when she thought inviting the entire sixth grade was an option.

I will buy her a present.  I will decorate a cake.  I will offer her a time to celebrate with a 'few' friends.  But not if she doesn't curb this pre-teen attitude she is flaunting. 

The end.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011


I'm not positive, but I think I'm being tested.

First, they threw all the school start times in the blender.  And it has taken me three weeks, and one fancy post-it note, to get used to who gets up when and what time each ones bus is going to come.  And we've still missed it a couple of times.  And I have had to drive like 146 mph to get home in the afternoons to 'beat that bus' (it's like a little game I play- but that is neither here nor there- although I have yet to loose a single time this year, booya).

Then we had 'online registration' with bonus copies of 39 forms per child to fill out at home.  But I did it.  Do you hear that?  I did it!  And had them all in their respective folders the next day, as instructed.  HA!

Then they start with specials days.  Gym, Art, Music, Library.  And with THREE children, they are all different.  It's like trying to track 12 different things every single day.  And Allyson started swimming this year, which means DAILY swim suit washage.  And package.

Spelling tests- whose is when and what words should they practice.  And when.  And how many times.

Online textbooks and gradebooks.  I can hardly take the pressure.

And just when it seems manageable- here come the fundraisers.  Who has to sell how much by when and fill out which 96 forms and return what to get a who?  Can't I just write someone a check and be done?  In theory, I mean.  If my checking account weren't already sucked dry by the PTO.

There has also been various after school event opportunities (for allyson), back to school nights, ice cream socials, band practice tracking charts, book sales, school pictures, an afterschool dance, lunch money account reminders, book rentals, Fall softball leagues, girl scouts events and meetings, skating parties, and twenty thousand other things I can't remember.  I mean, I've already been asked to donate baked goods for crying out loud.

It might paint a more perfect picture if I describe an event from our recent ice cream social.  Sam has been asking when he can join 'the popcorn boys', AKA the Boyscouts.  There was a table set up in the lobby.  Despite my attempts to completely distract him, he noticed, and so we stopped.  The scout leader made a super sad face and said he was so sorry, but they didn't offer cubscouts to kindergartners, he'd have to wait until next year in the first grade.  And I kissed him.  And then I did a cartwheel.  And three flips.  A whole extra year to learn to juggle what we've already got.  Deal!  See ya next year popcorn pimp!

I've noticed I'm developing a nervous twitch and my toes wiggle all the time.  I feel the need to check the calendar every single day, 36 times at various intervals.  I've noticed that this has gotten worse since I got the spreadsheet of Fall events for Emily's girl scout troop.

Yesterday I got an email from Sams kindey teacher.  She has assigned colors for each day this week.  And that was it.  I know I can't do this.  There is no possible way. And Sam can't read- so see?  There is no hope for him.  Or me.  We fail.  You win school.  Ya hear me?  YOU WIN!  I have no doubt that Sam will wear blue on red day, Emily will wear dress shoes on gym day, and there won't be a library book in sight for that day.  We will have sore throats on NWEA testing day, we will be out of eggs on bake the brownies for the bake sale day, no one will have their hair combed on picture day, spelling words probably won't get studied- and if they do it will probably be the wrong list, and I don't think that a single person here can possibly sling another single item be it a coupon book, sausage, magazine or can of nuts.

I fail.  You win.  0-1.

Gotta go, it's time to check the calendar again.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Goodbye Summer

Today we officially wrap up Summer 2011 and tie it up with a big bow.
The weather this morning feels cooler, crisper.  Fall is coming- whether we like it or not.
Now you have to bare with me as I recap our not so eventful summer.........

 We finished up our time at preschool.  I will never go back there with a tiny excited child again.  I miss it.
 My two nephews graduated high school, and my sister's home caught on fire during the night and they all survived.  Both things I am so very grateful for.
 Sam got so filthy boy dirty every single day this summer.  Another blessing I am happy for.
 My husband turned even older.  Add that to my thankful list.
 This little frog visit might just have been one of our highlights of the summer months.
 Ally got her braces on.  Again.  Oh- and she went back to being Allyson.  Again.  She was Allyson, then she was Ally, and now she is going by Allyson.  (sigh)
 We did sparklers right in our own yard- just like everyone should. 
 We said goodbye to some of our favorite neighbors, and welcomed new ones.
 Emily had her very first every sleep over!
 We camped in the great outdoors with dear friends.
 Allyson had a sleepover with some of her besties.  And I am still alive- score one for the momma.
 Oh dear heavens- Sam started kindergarten.
 We said goodbye to a part of our family- Lew Lew the Wonder Dog.
 And unexpectedly enough, welcomed a new member shortly after.
 Again with that boy messiness thing.
And we vacationed in Florida but never played in the ocean.

Time keeps on marchin' along- whether we are ready or not.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Somebody help me, 'cause I don't understand

I have always thought legos were a cool toy.  In theory anyway.  Because I never actually played with them.  Not because they are boy toys or girl toys- just not something that got my attention.

Last year, Sam was introduced to legos.  And I was thilled.  And then I was pissed.  Seriously.

I mean here is a toy that costs at least 17 times what it could possibly cost to make it- and it comes unassembled in a box 38 times the size necessary.  And when you give this kind of a toy to a child who is obviously new to legos, who do you think gets to build the damn thing while carefully following the 68 steps and sorting all of the same stinkin' blocks into their 16 piles according to thickness?  That's right, me.

I really thought we were going to just build random houses for small plastic super heros to live in.  I didn't know there were complex plans with 'recipes' that had to be followed step by step.  Where is the fun in that?

Dan always waved off barbies saying he just didn't 'get it'.  Now that there is this boy?  His fingers are too big to help.  It's all crap really.  Like a conspiracy.  I spent the entire morning Christmas day assembling a lego firetruck while Sam slapped my hind end with a whip shouting 'Faster!'.  Is this what they call bonding?

Yesterday Sam brought me the instructions to one of his lego sets and asked if I could help him build it.  I'm not even joking when I say it was a 4 hour process.  Two hours before school.  And two hours after.  I was in tears by the time we finished it.  And by we, I mean me.  Sam's part was to ask how much longer and occassionally help me dig around looking for a thin blue 8 piecer with a hole on the end or the white triangle piece with the stair steps underneath.

It was painful. 

And once I completed said truck?  He just really wanted to drive it around.  See- we have trucks, actual trucks, that would be very capable of driving around.  I don't understand, in the slightest, the purpose of a toy that comes unassembled, makes a grown woman cry while trying to put it together, and then requires such carefullness when playing with it so it won't shatter back into 300 pieces.  I don't 'get it'.

And this morning, when I heard that truck accidentally fall off of the kitchen counter..............instant terror shot through my veins.  Because I knew exactly what was going to happen, he was going to ask me to help fix it.

And I showed him all of his other beautiful trucks that don't come apart, ever, and asked that he just use one of those instead.  Because momma's all legoed out.  And besides- the pain that overwhelms me (other than in my finger tips that have carefully and painstakingly pried and pushed tiny plastic pieces together for hours on end) that comes when he tears apart a 6 hour assembled lego masterpiece is more than I can handle.

Learn to do it yourself oh small blonde one.  Love, momma