Crazy Days

Moments

2012-02-10T08:38:00.000-05:00

I'm currently participating in a bible study. Everyday there is a workbook that has items I read, study and respond to at home and then once a week the group gathers together to watch a video and have discussion.

In this weeks video- the lady talked about newsworthy moments. History making things occur that will forever be written. And the moment 'just before'.

Sometimes these historical things are really just personal items that happen and then you personally are changed. Your history is written. It is forever recorded and from then on something is different. We've all had them- either something that was completely out of our control or something that we chose and then received the reaction of said 'thing'. It was a profound thought- thinking about the moment 'just before'. In the study- she was obviously discussing the things we have control over and can lift to God BEFORE we make our action/decision. But today, I'm thinking about the things not in our control.

Like the moment just before I found out yesterday that my father in law has cancer growing in his brain. This whole thing for him has been such a bitch of a battle. Cancer was found in his throat a few years ago- and we knew then that the outcome was probably not going to be perfect because treatment for that kind of cancer is pure hell. And then it spread into his lungs. Which was kind of expected for it to spread somewhere because those nasty little asshole cancer cells were already in his lymph glands. But he's done the dag gone chemo, and all the radiation treatments, and he's on maintenance stuff, and he's taken trial drugs. He's fought that stupid beast. And although being cancer free is not something that is going to be in his world, things were looking okay. The shit stopped growing and the doctor said he could live like this for years.

They (my mother and father in law) left for a cruise last month. I spent the whole week rejoicing and thanking God for that opportunity for them. For them to get to go and have this magical week, after such a hard year and years prior. What we didn't realize was how very ill my father in law had become once on the boat. To the point, in fact, that the doctor on the boat encouraged them to get off in a foreign tropical paradise and seek medical attention. The doctor was scared of what he saw happening. And so was my mother in law. I can only imagine how my father in law felt. But they stayed on the ship and made it back home. Because heading to a foreign hospital? That's pretty scary stuff. Then they would have been stranded there trying to make plane reservations to come back home.

Once home, for two weeks, they have visited his various doctors. It seemed like he'd had a stroke. But the cancer doctor said he thought it had moved to his bones. So they performed a full body scan. And it hadn't. And, foolishly, we celebrated a victory. Still not knowing what was wrong, we celebrated. Like the asshole fools we are.

This week things got worse and his body, at least half of it, wasn't functioning well. At all. It was horrific to see him like that. So the doctor ordered an MRI. Now in my head I am blaming all of this on that stupid doctor who never ordered it before- even though it seemed like the man was having strokes. Would it have changed a thing? It really wouldn't have. I just want to be mad, and that doctor seems like the one to be mad at.

So my moment, the one that was 'just before', was already not a fairy tail. Things have already been difficult. But yesterdays 'just before' moment was in the car at the orthodontist with a van full of kids. And I had to hold my shit together like I knew how to for over two hours while tears kept welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lids with little faces wondering what on earth was wrong. After a whole day of that- I was short of patience and energy last night and I seemed to be snapping at everyone.

I could just scream. But what is the use? My father in law, the only grandpa my children remember and such a beautiful member of our family, is being eaten alive with cancer and I am pissed. Because it's a sucky way to see his life end. Because if the treatments they are working on are successfull, he probably still won't live through the year. Because he is afraid because his walk with Jesus has been very small. Because he has no peace because he is so afraid. Because going to their house and NOT playing sheep head and whining when I get stuck being his partner is going to be harder than anything I can handle. Because there are people who have lost their loved ones much younger to this bitch cancer and that isn't fair either. And because his last moments on this earth aren't going to be pretty ones.

Is it fair to say, selfishly (and that is what I am being right now here on this blog post, is selfish because if I don't get this out of my system I'm going to explode) that I can't do this. I can't handle it. I swear I can't. But what good does THAT do- because we don't get a choice. It's already been decided. It's happening. Within the hour of learning the diagnosis he was admitted to the hospital to start treatments.

I was trying to do my daily assignment yesterday and in the middle I just stopped and cried and prayed. But I don't even know what to pray for. And when I was finished, I looked back to my study and the next item was a bible verse I was to look up:

Philippians 4:4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in EVERY SITUATION, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, WHICH TRANSCENDS ALL UNDERSTANDING, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me- put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

And somehow I knew that it was exactly what I needed, right at that moment. All I keep praying for is for Gods peace to overflow in them. For them to receive that comfort. That peace.

The night before, when the insurance agent was here, remember? We purchased a cancer protection policy. I'm just not sure what to make of all of this- but I can say that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. But I still don't want to.

Thanks for reading, listening, letting me vent. And for accepting the bad words this day- because I just can't find anything to replace them with this time. This is a difficult point in my life and somehow writing is my outlet. And apparently cursing.

You so Ka-Raaaa-Zeeeeeeeey

2012-02-09T08:06:00.001-05:00

Wednesday- February 8- Small town, Central Indiana

6:00 AM Begin smacking snooze button on alarm clock

6:23 AM Smallest child person produces himself and declares his bed and jammies 'wet' and begins messing with the dog in my quiet dark corner of the earth. Soon there is laughing, running and hysteria in our dark, pre-sun rising home.

6:45 AM Try to awaken and throw out the door biggest child person for public learning priviledge.

In the mean time start coffee, make breakfasts, remind sam to be quiet 647 times, unload the dishwasher.

7:25 AM Success- Ally catches her bus.

7:26 AM Grab steaming cup of life blood. Realize rather quickly that being out of coffee and using a specialty package of decadent chocolate coffee will NOT be the same as the normal start to my day. Just fabulous.

8:30 AM Finish showering, dressing and stripping boy childs bed and starting the washer going. Begin waking middlest and reminding smallest to dress himself.

9:00 AM In car- drop off boy child with friend for playdate and rideshare to school and drive all.the.way.downtown for emilys eye doctor appointment. Probably driving past 74 eye doctor offices along the way.

9:43 AM FINALLY find a parking spot in that blasted garage and run like the ever loving wind to make it in the hospital and up to the third floor before our appointed time. Run is figurative. But we did hurry extra fast.

9:47 AM Sign in on the board as arriving at 9:44. Who us? Late? Never.

11:00 AM Arrive back in our part of the world, check the child back into school, head to my location of paid employment.

12:45 PM Leave location of paid employment and drive like crazy fast to home to get forgotten study materials.

1:07 PM Arrive for ladies bible study that began at 1:00 PM. If there was a sign in board I would have marked my time of arrival as 1:00. Who me? Late? Never.

2:21 PM Drive like a crazy lunatic because I lost track of time and now I have to hurry if I'm gonna beat that bus home.

2:31 PM Ahhhh- beat the bus home. Capture 1.5 minutes of complete quiet in the driveway while I wait for said bus.

2:33 PM Make the kids get in the car without even passing GO and listen to them complain about hunger and fight over strange scraps of food they find in the car while we run errands for the next 70 minutes. Which include a stop at the bank- inside- which is always a party with tired hungry kids.

3:43 PM Finally home. Switch around laundry. Mess with dishes and tidying kitchen. Unpack bags from errands. Take care of various home/wifely responsibilities.

4:43 PM Declare that I am tired and going to sit down until it is time to go to school to pick up Ally. Realize it is actually already time to go pick up Ally and whine kind of really badly loud. Make a cup of coffee to go, and then I go.

6:00 PM Daughter picked up, girl scout cookie deliveries made, heading back to the house. Dan calls to find out what is for dinner. I swear I almost broke right then and there. But instead just replied I wasn't making dinner and then declared that he was.

6:15-6:24 PM Hide in the car in the garage after arriving home. I played on my new fancy phone the whole time. Husband and small blonde one both tried to drag me in. I locked them out of the car.

6:25 PM Give up and come inside. Change guinea pig cage. Put last load of bedding into dryer. Start a load of towels for good measure. Feed dog. Insert other various home duties here.

7:14 PM Come down the hall with visions of frozen pizza for dinner and the rest of the evening for relaxing dancing in my head. Hear a child declare 'they are here' and remember that husband scheduled a life insurance agent to visit us. Tonight. As in right now. Like during my dinner and relaxing portion of the day.

7:14-7:18 PM- run around frantically trying to wipe up sticky spots on the dining room table, move children and their 'dinner' to the bar, gather up coats and shoes from the entry so they won't trip on them, and apologize for the complete disaster our home is. And ask why they didn't get the voice mail Dan left asking to move this appointment to another day. I mean we left it on the voicemail of the completely wrong company, in another portion of the entire country, but we did leave the right agents name. How did that not pan out? Relent and give up the hope of having any time for anything other than insurance listening for the next while and make another cup of coffee.

10:23 PM Agents leave (no joking). Although able to get them to bathe, dry hair, take vitamins and brush teeth during very interesting life insurance videos, they are all still awake (the children, not the insurance agents. well, I mean the agents are still awake, but so are the kids). Finish getting them all to climb into beds and collapse on the couch with the last 2 slices of 3 hour old cold pizza and a big giant bowl of grape salad.

10:49 PM Finally nourished and alone- first opportunity to strangle my husband for the dinner comment. And for scheduling these jokers on the only night of the week we don't have something already to do. But I don't. For that I feel I earned the title of Saint. Climb into bed with Dan and the little blonde one who proceeds to use his toes to dig in my thigh all.night.long. Restful, let me tell ya.

Today it starts all over again. Sans insurance appointment, similarly busy. There should be drive through martini bars. Just sayin'.

My Resignation

2012-02-07T07:27:00.000-05:00

Dear World,

I quit.

That's it. It's over. I'm not playing anymore. You can have it. I'm done. Me, my 18 boxes of dishwashing soap and my 3 boxes of ritz crackers are just going to hole in and stay here. Forever. I'm through. I mean it.

It's too much. Too much running around. Too many meetings. Too much responsibility. Too much laundry to wash. Too many uniforms to take care of. Too many doctors appointments. Too many girlscout patches to sew on. Too many teddy bears to color and act out story problems. Too much dust.

I can handle a lot. I really can. But this? It's just not possible. Everywhere I turn are things that need to be done. Lunches to be packed, groceries to be purchased, children to be picked up, clothing to be mended, broken teeth to be fixed........and then there are the actual BEINGS themselves wanting friends, sleepovers, to play games-like with my actual attention, dinner. How is there supposed to be enough time? I stay up late. I get up early. I only work part time for crying out loud. Why can't I do this?

Taxes, girlscout cookies, trash day, dirty refrigerators, it's all there looming over my head like a giant pelican. (I know- pelican, really? But I'm not changing it.)

So suck it. Take that. I will not be scrambling around another morning tossing half asleep 8 year olds out into the cold darkness of the too early morning screaming 'don't you miss that bus, I mean it'. THAT my friends is ri-di-cu-lous and I feel like a complete failure. The straw that broke this camels back, that is what it was.

So we are done. I am done. I'm not exactly sure what that means because clearly I'm not expecting anyone to step in and help with this. And I still know it's all my responsibility. But somehow it is freeing just to shout it out there and nod my head with some kind of deep satisfaction.

I better go make my list for the day and get back at it. After all, the dog isn't going to wash itself.

Sup-ah!

2012-02-03T08:30:00.000-05:00

This time of year- everything is about the super bowl. Living in a city that is hosting said bowl? It's like 3000X worse. Times 10. Plus 7.

I thought that you just won a ring and the title- but apparently the winning team also gets the JW Marriott. Which is impressive considering it's like brand new.

I wanted NOTHING to do with going downtown. Capital N to the OTHING. But Dan kept on with his 'once in a lifetime', 'cool experience for the kids', 'will never happen again in 100,000 years' prodding and we ended up going down there into all that hoopla.

I've not been happier in a long time.

It was so cool. So well organized. So neatly laid out. So well thought out. So upscale. So not carnivally. Sooooo muuuuuuuch fuuuuuun.

And because typically it would be freezing here- there were warming stations, warming domes and overhead heaters everywhere to help keep fans warm. But since we're being totally robbed of our regular winterness, we all just wore jackets and the kids only visited the fire stations because they were amazing. Rather than a necessity.

Everyone on facebook has a picture of themselves in front of the big XLVI on the monument. Here is mine. Of course, it's not me. Nor can you really see the whole thing. But it was hard to get this picture while driving so this is the best I can do. And it works for me.

There are multiple stages set up everywhere with all kinds of performances going on all the time. This was my favorite. Fire dancing people. We were glued to them like..........well, like something that is really stuck to something else (it's early and that's the best I can do).

We walked up to see what they were setting up for and this nice gentleman looked up and began explaining what time the show was and what they were going to be doing and....

then he looked over at my husband and said "Well Hey Dan!". Turns out my husband has fire dancing friends and he didn't even know it.

This lady was also a belly dancer. She kept coming close to Sam and talking to him while shaking her coin things on her hips and swinging around that fire- and Sam was about to die of embarrassment. Isn't it funny that he is already like that around ladies? He would look away and to the ground and pierce his little lips together.

It was so much fun. And so worth the $20 they were charging to park. From what I hear, that rate is going up each day that the superbowl gets closer. Can you imagine? Our little baby city- we'll never be the same!

Here's our brush with fame. While driving through the city we saw a huge crowd of people with cameras and flashes and such gathered around a big escalade kind of car and someone got out and was rushed in and it was exhilarating. Of course, we didn't have the camera out. But then we were on guard. While heading home, a police escort brought up another big shiny SUV and we were ready. Out jumped two secret servicey body guard kind of people who were scanning the crowds and I knew it was someone important. And then she jumped out. See the lady all the way to the left with the gray sweater and the black purse and blond hair? THAT is who they were shuffling in.

Yeah- I didn't know who she was either.

LIFE- only more realistic

2012-02-01T09:41:00.001-05:00

I don't know what it is about that game- but my kids love to play LIFE. Maybe it's the little plastic blue and white 'people', or the 'real' mountain roads, or that snazzy spinny wheel. Whatever it is- it is lost on my.

While we are here- why am I the ONLY person in this entire house that finds it so important to sort and wrap the money before putting the game away. Everytime we get out a game- the cards, money, people, and every other small tiny thing is just all over the box. Everywhere. It could take us a half hour just to set up. My first lesson in LIFE would be to take care of your stuff and freakin' organize it. Geesh.

But my 'real' point here is the actual game. First you pick a profession- college or no college. And the no college options are pretty dag gone good and can make like $50,000 a year as a bar singer. PLUS, every other roll it seems you get a $10,000-$20,000 pay raise. Really? Who gets that kind of an increase in real life? Then you throw in how you have a baby and every other player gives you $5000. Or 'surprise' you inherited a smooth hundred thousand from great aunt whoever. Sign a book deal- collect $100,000. Win the lotto- collect $50,000. Then- at the end of the game you sell you house back for more than you pay for it. This might be how things used to roll- but not so much these days. I've been thinking about my OWN version of the game of LIFE. It would go something like this:

Oh no- little dumpling has the chicken pox. Take two weeks off work and forfeit $800 in pay. Plus- bounce 3 checks due to lack of deposits and pay late fees on 4 bills. Loose another $200.

Congratulations- you got a raise. 3% of your income. That means you get to collect $27 per pay period. The down side is that the increased pay put you into a new tax bracket and you end up LOOSING $60 each check. High Five on the Raise!

Oh Boy! Your having another baby. Pay $500 to the OB's office, $875 to the hospital and kiss goodbye any extra income you might have been earning because no one can afford to pay babysitting for three kids. Each player gives you $25 and a casserole.

Breastfeeding troubles. Pay $30 for herbal supplements.

No dice on the supplements. Pay $80 a month for baby formula.

Dog goes into heat and makes your house look like a crime scene. Spend $40 on dry cleaning bills for your bedspread, $20 on fancy doggie underpants that don't work, and $180 to have the carpets professionally cleaned. SPIN TO WIN to see if fido got impregnated. YES- $400 for puppy delivery and first round of shots. NO- cough up $200 for neutering your precious pup.

Thems the dumps! Your washer quits working. Pay $500 for another one that can't be delivered until next week and then another $50 at the laundry mat to get by until then. Collect a free sample of wash detergent that came with the new washer.

Your daughter makes the basketball team!!!! Pay $125 because your school system is in the toilet and you now need to 'pay to play' PLUS $25 for the fancy jerseys the team is ordering AND $130 for the physical that is required to be on file. Want to go watch your child play in actual games? That will be another $10 please. Two times a week. For the next two months.

Freezers on the Fritz, kiss your $180 in frozen food goodbye as you haul it to the curb for the trash (pay them $40 just to come get your trash each month by the way). Buy another freezer, $250 and loose a turn.

Child needs tonsils removed. Pay $300 in doctors fees and don't collect the next two pay checks.

Oldest makes Honor Roll at school! Pay $25 for reward field trip.

Basketball pictures, due tomorrow. Pay $20.

Miss calculate/balance your checkbook. Loose $300. You're not even really sure how or why or where- but if you choose to have someone at the bank help you pay another $25 and still loose the $300.

Great Aunt So and So passes away. Pay $50 toward flowers. Collect nothing from the will.

Outgrow your family home. Sell it for $5,000 less than you paid for it 12 years ago and buy a new one.

Download a virus onto your computer. $80 please.

Your little car full of blue and pink babies rolls 250,000 miles. Time for a new ride. Pay $400. Per month. For years on end. Good thing you got that raise.

PAYDAY. Collect $1000. Give back $80 for health insurance, $20 for uniform cleaning. $263 for taxes and other stuff that no one really understands, $40 for 401K.

What other fun 'real life' things am I missing????? Share your ideas and maybe we can split the profit of our new boardgame.

Pick your spouse wisely, young folk

2012-01-31T08:33:00.000-05:00

For years I have teased Dan that I should have married a dentist. And last week- when I broke yet ANOTHER tooth, I was singing that same song again. Until this morning.

Now I'm wishing I would have married a website designer. Because I have no idea what I am doing. At all. The fact that I have been able to maintain this sorry little blog AND change the background from the original white is a miracle. That- and the purpose of blogger I suppose. They make it kind of easy. Do I wish for my very own website that is all mine where I can post electronic sequins and glitter? Sure. Do I have any idea how to do that? Negatory good buddy.

Why just yesterday I went all techno and added that fancy schmancy 'like' button and threw around the term viral like I knew what the heck I was doing. And BAM!- it was completely wrong. So now- it looks like a few of you may have actually pressed that 'like' button like I was begging you to and it didn't really make you 'like' my page at all. But I'm sure you liked something- I just don't know what.

In fact- I'm not even sure if my adjustments will fix the dag gone problem. But I'm trying. Work with me here people. If you could be so kind, if you want to, to press that-----------> like button again, we'll see what happens this time.

Thanks for the heads up halala mama. Can I hire you to be my tech support? And by hire, I mean just basically trade a glass of wine and some gluten free cake mixes for hours on end of your time, just so we're clear.

I've gone viral

2012-01-30T08:17:00.000-05:00

See that? Over there? --------------------------------------------------->
Okay- actually look up a little. No- not that high, a little lower. Right there- the 'like'- see it?
My blog has a facebook.
oh.yes.it.does.

For months I have been 'liking' blogs I love to read on facebook, and then when they post an exciting update or earth shattering story- it pops up right on my facebook wall to let me know to get over and read it.

And now I'm joining them. With the exception of exciting updates or earth shattering stories.

I'm nervous because I'm afraid I'll end up with 3 likers. Me, my husband (only because I hacked into his facebook and liked it behind his back) and my mom. And possibly not even my mom. Here goes- I'm jumping in. Please like me.

On another note- who coined the phrase 'going viral' anyway? Because they could have totally picked a catchier phrase. This reminds me of going postal, viral illnesses that your doctor can't even help you with and a possible virus detected on my computer. How could going viral be good? But it is. At least that's what I've been told.

Cupcake Wars and bags of melting frozen veggies

2012-01-26T08:28:00.000-05:00

I have to admit. It has been kind of awesome being restricted to the house with my surgery patient. There have been no places to run during the day, no work (at the office anyway), and Emily being who she is has even requested my presence with her when watching afternoon movies- which has meant nap time almost every day. However, trying to keep track of her medicines-the times issued- how much has she drank- when is her antibiotic due (plus the whole recently pierced ears cleanings) are a bit taxing, so that naps are a necessity. That's what I keep telling myself anyway.

I'm also the keeper of the frozen vegetable bag rotation- which is a BIG responsibility (dang I wish I would have grabbed that ice collar from the hospital!)

When I'm not slinging narcotics, freshening frozen bags, fluffing pillows and cleaning ears- me and emily have been watching lots of episodes of Cupcake Wars.

Lots of cupcake wars.

And yesterday- when I found myself going a bit stircrazy, I decided to act out an episode right here in my very own home.

Of course, I was out of boxed cake mixes, but since I am a world class baker and own my own cupcake shop I got out my recipe book and looked one up.

And then I apparently forgot to put all of the ingredients in because what was supposed to make 30 cupcakes made 17 and they didn't rise.

I mean at all.

And they were very heavy, but moist. And a bit salty.

Fortunately the portion of the show we were in was the decoration part, so it didn't matter.

Emily and Sam were my 'team'.

As they carefully peeled up the decorations I'd piped out of chocolate to stick on the top of the cupcakes- I was behind them screaming '30 seconds, load load load!' They really appreciated it.

I homemade the butter creme frosting and then, contrary to my normal action of either slapping it on with a butter knife or using a ziplock bag to pipe it on, I got out an actual pastry bag and piping tip and worked my magic. And by magic I mean I put icing on them.

I could hear that one older guy saying in his accent 'Zee decorations are very nice but zee keek is, how you say, odd.' But the third guest judge, she really liked them.

Yesterday was the 100th day of school. Emily was totally bummed that she didn't get to go. Truth is, it would have only been her 84th anyway with all her sick days last semester. (See the browned areas around only a few of the cupcakes- it was really chewy and kind of crunchy- truth be told I kind of liked it. Wonder if I can remember what I left out of the recipe and do it again???)

I bet you are wondering who won. We did, of course.

Today I think we will reinact a Hoarders show and clean out some of these cabinets.

6th Birthdays.............the untold stories

2012-01-25T08:19:00.000-05:00

The thing I think I enjoy the most about birthdays around our house is seeing how excited each of the kids gets for the others birthday. It really warms my heart.

I mean- 362 other days of the year I hear about how awful it is to share a room, how someone took somebody elses something or other, how someones feet are on their arm rest, how someone lost my whatever it was, fight bicker bicker fight.

But on a birthday? Happiness. This year about a week before Sam's birthday emily had some cold hard cash and was planning to spend every drop of it at Target. She had already made her selections when we went to peruse the Christmas clearance. All at once she began taking her selections out of the cart and asking me if I had enough 'extra' money to cover tax on something she wanted to buy. What she wanted to buy was a nutcracker for her brothers birthday. I could have melted right there in the store.

Sam has a thing about nutcrackers- he LOVES them. Always has. I have no idea why, but I think it might have to do with most of them carrying a weapon of some sort- but I could be wrong. And Emily knows her brother. She came right home, wrapped it in tissue paper, poked it into a box and covered it with candy corn wrapping paper. And for over a week she had a glow about her in anticipation of presenting her perfectly selected treasure. And she was right- he loved it.

Just a day or two before his big day, Allyson disappeared to her room for several hours. I would have assumed she was back there being angry that I wouldn't let her have friends over/go to a friends house. But what she was really doing was carefully sketching out and coloring with oil pastels what would become her gift for Sam.

Here he is after unwrapping it. He was such a blessed young man to have received such a beautiful piece of art from the biggest sister he'll ever have.

The morning of his birthday we surprised him with balloons all over his floor. Dan and Emily hid in my bedroom the night before and carefully inflated two laundry baskets full of them and after everyone was asleep, I snuck in and spread them out.

And early the next morning we were awoken to pounding on the floor and an occasional *POP* as Rosie discovered the delicate balance that is necessitated when one tries to play with a balloon.

Honestly it was adorable. And Sam, Emily and Allyson had so much fun watching Rosie play with the balloons that they didn't even care when she popped them all.

Most days this life I am living feels like we're stuck in a tornado. Chaos, work, activities, school, homework, church stuff............we are just a flurry of scrambling around. But I am grateful for the fun days that come along the way. Sam's big day was certainly one of them.

3 Bedroom/2Bath home for rent- SUPER

2012-01-23T08:22:00.001-05:00

The super bowl is coming to town. Yay Rah.

I have said from the beginning that I want to be NO WHERE near here when it arrives. I am not one for crowds or crowdiness or traffic- so my plan is to either hole in and lock the doors or head out for a few days. And then I heard about people who are renting their houses for several thousand dollars PER DAY during the event. (Most of them require a 5 day minimum.) Which obviously got me thinking about renting out our home. I'm working on the ad- but here's what I have so far.

Enchanting Country Chalet- 3 bedrooms, 2 baths

See how I underlined the title and changed cute to enchanting- my marketing studies are totally paying off

Cast your worries aside in this ~~beautifully~~ furnished home located within walking distance of Lucas Oil Stadium (bring some really comfortable shoes- and be sure to head out 2 hours in advance of whatever time you want to be downtown). A charming ranch style home in a quaint suburb of Indianapolis will make you feel right at home, as long as you live in a middle class ranch home in need of a paint job and a good cleaning with mediocre furnishings and broken handled kitchen pots.

Two full baths and a furnished kitchen (eggs included)(maybe) will make your stay comfortable. Although we would prefer you not use our shower in the master bath as that kind of creeps me out a bit- but help yourself to the kids tub/shower combo, they could care less. You will rest ~~in 5 star elegance~~ ~~comfortably~~ in your choice of 1 King Size Bed, 1 Full Size Bed (yes our son has occassionally peed it but we will wash the sheets and mattress pad, no worries), or 2 twin bunk beds (only one person on the top bunk as they are kind of ~~rickety~~ ~~unstable~~ charming). Indulge in the built in entertainment you will enjoy with 2 television sets and our pet guinea pig. Tranquil fish tank will also provide for rest and relaxation. Please- no bed bugs or head lice, inspection upon check in. And don't brew anything other than coffee in my coffee pot.

*Heated indoor pool. Indoor parking (as long as you only open your drivers side door a little bit as to not knock over the bicycles- which you are NOT to be riding). Daily maid service provided (by me of course because I want to make sure you aren't messing up our house).

Handsoap, toilet paper and overly bleached linens provided free of charge.

*closed for maintenance- better luck next time

Dan is worried that they would steal our stuff. To which I said, what stuff? I mean seriously- most of what we have is pretty used and abused, I'm wondering who would want it. We have not any flat screen tv's, the vcr is broken, our linens are not from any luxurious foreign countries and my shoes are not italian. What does that leave, our dishsoap? For $2000 a night they can have it. I'm also thinking that for that kind of cash we just throw out all the mattresses, sheets and pillows when the weekend is over and buy new- which opens up a whole new market to the headlice and bedbug crowd.

Besides- anything that we would have concern over someone possibly taking/using/laughing at us about we could lock up in our bedroom closet. And for extra security we would take the bobby pin that we use to open the lock with us..........secure like a steal trap.

I would obviously not include pictures of the tranquil fish tank as it's actually just about a gallon fish bowl in the kitchen. And although I have seriously contemplated indoor photos- they might work to our disadvantage. In review of my original ad, sticky and live like a local seem like good descriptions to me- I've decided against them. Great for Corporate Entertainment seems to be a common theme among the other homes offered for rent- I might throw that in there too, afterall we do have a breakfast bar.

I'm not positive, but I'm thinking at a briefly discounted rate from the "Downtown Indy newly renovated Upscale Townhouse", plus the free toilet paper (which I have not seen in ANY of the other house ads) we just might be in the bed and breakfast business.

Another Birthday gift.............surgery (surprise!)

2012-01-20T06:52:00.001-05:00

Emily is having her Tonsils and Adnoids removed in the morning (see that large pink thing on the right up there........it is NEVER any smaller than that- even when she is healthy). After several years of battling strep throat, tonsilitus, and constant colds and ear infections- the end is in sight. Our doctor has been saying for over a year that if they would just take out her tonsils, she would get healthy and we would go back to 'normal' doctor visits- which are apparently not dang near every single week. The ENT, stars and moon, as well as all good karma in the universe aligned last week and BAM! tomorrow there is an operating room with Miss Emi's name on it.

The hospital called this afternoon to pre-register her. I was at my moms house. Dan answered the phone.
He called me to ask the name of her medication. And if her immunizations were up to date. And to confirm that she has had a fractured wrist (which she has not). Here's hoping he registered the right child.

My stomach hurts. Although this is what we 'wanted', and it is a 'routine procedure', and our surgeon has done tons of them (I'm reasonably sure- at least his MD certificate didn't look like a photocopy),- momma's worry. And so do little girls. And mommas worry about worrying little girls. I'll be glad when this is over.

Is it HOT in here?

2012-01-18T10:28:00.001-05:00

So, you remember when we took the stray dog into our home this past Fall, right? And being a stray and all we were unsure of her age, imminuzations, and basically everything else that you are supposed to know about your pet. Including her nether regions- if you know what I'm saying.

Even the vet was unsure because she could feel a scar in her belly. She said we would just wait and see if she went into heat. Or slice her open and take a looksy. We chose the first option.

And then 'we' completely forgot about it.

Friday I sent the dog to a friends house for Emilys sleep over. She's too unpredictible with running screaming kids. And she loves our friends dog. So it was a win win. Until my friend began finding drops of blood.

See- she was confused as to if she had 'become a woman' or if she'd hurt her paw because she could see blood on her nails. Which wasn't really blood- that was fingernail polish- duh. My friend can be so silly and unappreciative of a good canine manicure.

Turns out Rosie has gotten her gift. And she is not happy about it.

Here she is in her brand spankin new pair of "Flashy Pants". These she was able to escape out of in 3.2 seconds all 12 times. Plus having to chase her down and hold her in between my knees to tie the sides created a bit of an inconvenience for me. So we decided to pick another route.

Childrens underwear. We started with a nice pair of Emilys purple gingham but they were a tad large. So we had to try Sam's of course. The funnest part I think was listening to Dan try and fish her tail through the pee pee hole. Lord help me that was hysterical. Turns out she wasn't a fan of having her tail bent and twisted- so I just cut a hole. Sam has pointed out that he is not wearing them again- I keep saying it's just a little hole and it might come in handy should he grow a tail. Sheesh- such a baby.

Being the escape artist that she is- she could shake off those batmans too. So I turned to girls hosiery- which is fitting the bill just fine. Rosie is so not happy. So.Not.Happy. Plus I keep getting the pads stuck to her fur which makes her walk funny- I really am trying not to but it's dang near impossible to properly attach pads with wings to a four legged animal while chasing them around the living room. I keep inquiring as to doggie tampons- but apparently there are no such items. Not that I would be brave enough to try THAT either.

Basically I think she is just humiliated. My poor Rosie Rose, who is on the verge of having every male dog in the neighborhood come unglued. I'm thinking she is embarrassed by her newfound womanly present. And her underwear. It's the best we've got girl, until I can get my patent for doggie flashy pants with suspenders- this is all we've got.

On another note- when I called Dan at work on Saturday to tell him our dog had gone into freakin' heat (yes- I called him at WORK to tell him this) he promptly replied "No she didn't". I quickly told him that she absolutely did. To which he replied if she was in heat she would be swollen. I found myself looking around to see if he was here- like looking through a window or something. I'm no dog who-ha expert, like he apparently is, but I'm pretty sure I know what a dog in heat looks like- which isn't pretty let me tell you. At least I think I do, since this is the first time and all. At least I know a good doggie pedicure when I see one.

Great to be Eight!

2012-01-17T10:42:00.001-05:00

This weekend was Emily's birthday. It involved a slumber party, friends, presents, cake and a fun family day to celebrate our super favorite 7 8 year old.

I can bet you cold hard cash that when my mother carefully selected and wrapped that Crystal Champagne Flute along with our other wedding crystal she would have never in her wildest dreams imagined it filled with sour straws for a group of giggling girls. Man has my world changed over the past 15 years.

This was just minutes, possibly even seconds, before two bottles of fingernail polish got spilled on the carpet. The one in yellow- she convinced me to let the girls paint each others nails because 'she was super good at it'. The tableclothe and my carpet beg to differ.

Although my manicure turned out wonderfully.

Sam struggled with why no one really wanted to play legos with him. But everyone had fun once we got Just Dance on- even the big one.

On her actual birthday Emi was treated to lunch at Incredible Pizza, an ear piercing, build a bear and family game night. It was a perfect day to celebrate with her.

I can not begin to think what my world would have been like had this child not been born to me. Thank you Emily for being my daughter.

FRIDAY THE 13TH!

2012-01-13T07:54:00.000-05:00

Who in their right mind schedules their second graders very first slumber party on Friday the 13th?

That would be me.

The same one who has yet to even begin the party preparations. Preparations being cleaning my dirty,messy,overly lived in home and baking a hot air balloon cake requested by the birthday girl herself.

But I have purchased the ice cream and streamers- so I say that counts for something.

Most of these little girls have never been to a slumber party- so I hope to not disappoint too much. I also hope that the fall out ratio is low- you know, the ones who chicken out and can't spend the night away from home. Most have been brave when I have spoken with them but have secretly told their moms that they might not want to spend the whole night. We'll see how that shakes out. I might bribe them with candy.

Better go get busy- birthday party #2 for January is in need of my attention!

A day made for celebratin'

2012-01-10T09:35:00.000-05:00

What a super fun birthday Sam had! That morning his mamaw visited and brought a special gift that kept him busy all day.

When his dad got home we opened gifts and went to Chucke Cheese (I don't recommend this).

Then a super fun cousin sleep over.

And the next day was his lego party with his friends from school.

Which involved a group of kindergarten boys coming to our home. I'll have you know that in years past special shopping expeditions have taken place to pick the perfect party outfit for my other two children. Maybe even special shoes. Sam threw on a transformer t-shirt, a pair of stretchy pants and he was ready.

Boy parties are not girl parties. This information is invaluable, trust me. Not a single person showed up in a party dress. Or a princess gown. Or high heels. Not one.

Plus- boys don't whine, squeal, or really talk much. They all came into the house and they disappeared into Sams room and I didn't see them again. In fact, it was so quiet that I kept checking on them. They were just playing their little hearts out.

And then we played a game. They each had to build a car out of legos and race them. Which was not like painting their nails or doing their hair. And it was not like painting flowers on canvas bags. In fact- it wasn't really arts and crafts at all. And when we had the first trial race and their cars burst apart- I was prepared for crying and hysteria (see girl party outcomes of 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2011) but they just gathered the pieces and put them back together and added supports and cross bars and more legos. Some of them even exclaimed 'cool' as their hard work burst into pieces.

And when I served cake on crystal plates with matching tea cups- not a one of them was impressed. In fact, I'm not even sure they noticed.

And there was not a single solitary polly pocket, barbie or zooble to be found in the pile of presents that they brought. No Justin Bieber wrapping paper, no pink bows. But these arrow shooting, transforming, wheeled gifts did bring forth a few squeals from my little man.
I will not point out which one of these boys has called our home every.single.day since he received his party invitation. Mostly he called just to tell me how many more days until the party. Or that he had bought a gift. Or that he had wrapped it. Or to ask what Sam was doing. And on the day before the party, he called like 8 times. It was so sweet I thought I could die. But should it have continued after the party? A change of phone number may have been required.

Emily was my right hand girl helping to serve these young men, refill drinks, assist with lego car repairs and scooping the ice cream. Allyson never even came out of her room. I could have really used some additional girl back up.

All in all- success. I'm pretty sure I need to step it up a notch next year. Maybe some gross green goo drink, bug snacks or fake vomit. For the most part they kind of looked at me like a kook when I suggested stopping playing to have some lego looking pizza and for not having a pinata for them to beat on with sticks. Live and learn.

Six whole years

2012-01-06T11:40:00.000-05:00

Dearest Sammy,

We didn't even know that we were missing you until you were here.

You completed our family- you made us whole- you make us the Goble 5.

You are an amazing little person whom we all enjoy having in our family, even Emily (regardless of what she says and how much you two bicker- the times you build forts, rally to sleep together and play house far outweigh the horrible arguments you two strike up).

We are so excited for you to have your super special sixth birthday today and we hope that you enjoy your special cake, your birthday balloons, and the surprises we have wrapped up for you.

Always remember what a phenomenal part of our family you are. I would have never been complete had I not been your mother (same goes for your sisters- you guys are the best parts of my whole life).

Live it up big guy! Today is your day. And tomorrow when you have your party. And Sunday when we will undoubtedly still be celebrating your birthday. Plus next week when you are star student at school.

Happy Birthday Week!

All Kinds of Excitement

2012-01-05T08:59:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow is Sams birthday. He is expecting big exciting things. Balloons. Streamers. Presents. Cake. None of which have been purchased or prepared. His most exciting event tomorrow- his cousin is spending the night. He is so excited. I am too, because he is.

Two days from now his kindergarten buddies are coming over to the house for a lego party. I'm not much prepared for this either. See- I was up late making Emilys birthday invitations, so there wasn't a lot of time to sort legos for games or fill treat bags with yet to be purchased treats. Because her big day is just 10 days after Sams. And they both fall right after Christmas. Which means I've been running full steam ahead for weeks now.

This week, I have been all green drainagey. Which has made me soooo tired. And although I've been trying to keep up, I'm afraid I am falling behind. The point here is that my house HAS to be cleaned. As in really cleaned, not just wipe the toothpaste out of the sink cleaned or spray air freshner cleaned. And although I know this, I can't seem to force myself to do it- because it is a disaster.

Yesterday, I declared a one hour family cleaning time. The kids were THRILLED. But in that hour they put all of their random scattered belongings back in their rooms AND we took down all of the Christmas decorations. It was a miracle I tell you, a christmas decoration miracle. The only thing left to do is get Mary and Joseph (as well as baby Jesus) and their good friend frosty the inflated snowman off the front lawn and we are all set. Which may or may not happen- but I'm good with that.

Today. Today is tear this house up day where I clean clean clean, purchase and wrap presents, finish party preparations, and bake a cake. In addition I need to work at my actual JOB for a few hours and catch the laundry up before I am forced to wear bedsheets and pretend they are togas. Although a toga lego party might not be a bad idea?

But see- there is a flaw in my plan. When I popped my eyes open this morning, only one of them acutally opened. You got it. Pink Eye. And my chest feels like there is an elephant on it. And my head hurts like it's going to burst because it's full of green goo. So I've made an appointment to see the doctor. And while I'm at the pharmacy getting whatever she prescribes to make my eye not pink anymore, I'm going to buy Vodka. Because it's going to be a longgggg day- and that is going to come in handy. Plus- maybe it will kill these germs that have taken residence in my being.

On a side note (this is like a P.S. here folks)- over a week ago I ordered silicone lego shaped candy molds off Ebay. Who in their right mind gets all crafty creative when they are coming in off Christmas and crash landing into birthday land? Me, apparently. The big news here is that THEY ARE STILL NOT HERE! IF they come today, I will have 24 hours to make chocolate lego suckers AND lego shaped crayons. As if that is going to happen. Why oh why oh why oh why do I think I am some Martha Stewart knock off and get all creative only to completely fail and ruin any kind of crafty rules that there are in this world???????

A (very) late Christmas update

2012-01-04T09:28:00.000-05:00

How could I not possibly share the beautiful Christmas morning we had? I know it's late- but here it is anyway. I've been struggling with all of the horribleness that seems to be filling the lives of folks I love- but Christmas Eve morning from the instant my eyes opened I had JOY- lots of it. I felt like a child- so excited for the upcoming Santa visit, for the celebration of Jesus, for the hours of family visits that were coming.........it was a blessing and I am so thankful for such a wonderful wonderful Christmas.

Notice Rosie? She was so curious as to what in the heck was going on.

When Sam woke up he said 'come on, lets go see my new bike'. Boy was I glad there happened to be a new bike for him to go see!

Emily's number one request was a doodle bear. #2? La La Loopsy Silly Hair. Her mamaw was so excited to buy that for her- but I must say I noticed Emily kind of looking around all monrning at our house and it broke my heart. She never said anything, even when I asked, but I think she was wondering why it didn't come. Later that afternoon she got to unwrap it at her Aunts house- and then I felt relief. Oh- and that big chicken thing? She just NEEDED it.

Emily opening her mood ring that I spent HOURS shopping for online. She loves it.

Allyson's big deal item this year was an Ipod Touch. Many of her friends have had one for years and she has in fact been asking for one for so long (3 years ish) that she didn't even ask for it this year because she assumed she wouldn't get one. We figured at 12 she's probably ready for the responsibility. And since her list for christmas contained NO toys and just a few clothes she wanted- it seemed like the right time.

I am so very thankful for such a wonderful morning with my family. I absolutely was alive with excitement to see the kids enjoy such a great morning that showered them with lots and lots of special gifts.

Now- I need to find the energy to tidy up this house and put all of the special gifts in a place. Otherwise I'm going to go stark raving mad.

2011 can Suck It

2012-01-02T10:31:00.000-05:00

Last year felt so emotionally taxing to me. I spent so much time crying that by the time Christmas rolled around all I wanted to do was cover my head with the blankets and wait for it to pass. Perhaps it's time to review my anti-depressant medicine with my physician. Or perhaps 2011 was a really hard year. I'm trying to balance the bad with the good, to remember the good things over the horribleness that I wish I could forget but never will.

I even made a list of all of the things that have made me feel broken this year- because I was going to blog about them. But to heck with that. Who needs a list to remember such horribleness and loss? To remember how desperately people you love and know are hurting? No one.

Instead- here are the highlights of my 2011:

My family is here, and they are healthy and well.
We got to enjoy our annual valentines dinner at White Castle.
I let the kids play hookie from school to attend the St. Patricks day parade
I received flowers for no reason on a totally unexpected day
Dan and I participated in a marriage bible study
All three of my children still participated in an Easter Egg Hunt
We got to go to the Great Wolfe Lodge
My nephews graduated from high school- one of them began college
My sister and her children didn't die in her house fire
Dan's mom came through her heart procedure just fine
All three kids got to play softball
Dan turned forty one!
Allyson loved church camp
We said goodbye to fabulous friends, but got new neighbors and friends in return
We got to spend a week in Florida with dans parents
Dan's dad is continuing to fight that damn cancer
So is my mom
We said goodbye to Lewis, our family dog, but in return Rosie was brought into our family by complete surprise
There was a family camping weekend, and a friend camping weekend- both were awesome
Emily began playing the piano
Dan and I celebrated 15 years of marriage
Allyson made the basketball team
I got a 4 slice toaster

People left our world this year, many people whom inspired us and helped to make us into the people that we are. Family, friends, church family members. It still feels very raw. And just in the last few days of the dag gone year, two more dear people left this earth. Jaylens mom (a friend and fellow mother) and Dan's Aunt Peggy (such a fine and special woman). And as I try to put 2011 away and move on, we will have two funerals this week as we start the new year. I so hope that 2012 is kinder, more gentle. And I hope that I am able to focus on the good that I certainly hope it will bring. 2011 had good moments. Just some really hard ones too.

I continue to pray for everyone I know and love that are suffering. Know that you are in my heart.

Another mother

2011-12-30T16:30:00.001-05:00

I almost wrote about something this morning- but I changed my mind. It was a decision that Dan and I had to make. One that would only be right for our family. It won't apply to others families and what they would choose. So I decided not to.

Allyson has had a little boy who has been sweet on her since second grade. For over four years now these two have called each other boyfriend/girlfriend. We've talked about them being too young, forbid it, unforbid it (that doesn't work by the way), discussed modesty. It hasn't changed that these two really seem drawn to each other. And have for years.

A few weeks ago, his mom called me to ask if it would be okay if Jaylen bought Allyson a Christmas present. She also was wondering if maybe the two of them could hang out for a couple of hours, play video games or basketball. Instantly I was torn. I don't want either of them to think that we would EVER encourage them to 'date'- but seriously, would it hurt to play some basketball? I told her I would like to invite them both over for dinner, I would get back to her once I talked to Dan.

And then I never called her back.

Christmas was busy and there was no time, and I just didn't. But this week, she has been so very heavy on my mind. Yesterday when the phone rang, it was her. And I told her I couldn't stop thinking about her and that I was sorry for not returning her call sooner. And that I was also sorry I never dropped off the Christmas cookies I had for them. She asked again about having Ally over for an hour so that they could visit. Again I told her I needed to talk to Dan and I'd call her back.

See? I was going to blog about whether or not to let Allyson and Jaylen spend time together out of school. But I decided not to. Because Dan and I needed to come to our own decision.
This morning, Dan and I discussed it and I asked him to please call her back this morning while I was at work. We'd basically decided that maybe he could come over here for a little bit. But that it wasn't going to become anything regular. And it was to stay as friends- they are just 12 afterall. And so he called. Only to find out that she died last night, unexpectedly, out of the blue. She died. This woman who is my age with children and was just talking to me on the phone yesterday died.

Just like that.
And now my heart is breaking for a young man- so far from being a man but so very far from being a boy- that is now alone in this world without his mom. And due to circumstances, he is without his dad and always has been. I can still feel my heart quivering every time I think about it. It is unimaginable.

I think back to the conversation I had a few weeks ago. His mother and I got to talk for a good long while. She expressed concern over Jaylen feeling like we hate him. I tried to explain that it was because he was a boy chasing our daughter (nothing personal) that made us apprehensive of him- she seemed to understand. God, I hope she understood. I just don't think I could ever forgive myself if she didn't understand. I never meant to judge her or her son, I only wanted to protect my daughter. I worried about her lifestyle, but after talking with her she seemed to be a good woman. One that I was really looking forward to chatting with over dinner. She had faith, morals and a true love of her boys.

If I could call her back today, I would tell her what a fine young man she is raising. And that together we can monitor the children and not allow them to grow up into any situations too fast. And I'd offer to have her over and serve her the casserole I'm dropping off at her moms house instead. And I'd want her to know that I think there is a lot I could learn from her as a mother. She seemed to be a deep and inspirational woman who had a deep bond with her pre-teen son, which is an accomplishment these days. I know I struggle to find an in with Allyson.

As I hugged her son this afternoon, he started to pull away. And I swear I heard a voice say 'hold him tighter', and I did, and he collapsed into my arms. And we both cried. I held him as a mother would. As his mother would, but she can't any longer.

Please pray for this young man. He has a long horrible road of grief ahead of him. He is outside playing basketball with Allyson. He's been here all afternoon. He seems almost as though he doesn't want to go back home. And I guess I understand, because at home he will have to face the grief of his mother being gone. I hope his soul felt a tiny bit of relief being here today. I pray God will give him peace tonight.

Where'd you go?

2011-12-30T08:26:00.000-05:00

Did you think I'd been buried under a mountain of wrapping paper or beaten to death by elves? No such luck. Just out of sorts and neglecting my blog. That's all.

See- I am a creature that craves order. Which is interesting because I am also a disorganized disaster. When I have order, whether it be in a closet or a menu plan or my purse, I have peace. But when things get a little out of hand, I loose it. Which makes me sleepy, so I nap a lot.

And this week? With Christmas and all of the extra fabulous goodies that we all acquired (which are new so they have no 'homes' and they are just kind of stacked and strewn everywhere), the kids being out of school AND Dan having to work nights for a rare change.................there is not a single drop of freakin' order to be found. So I am just loosing it. I feel cranky, grumpy, tired and completely out of sorts.

I love having the kids home. But their bedtimes are a wreck, I'm having to work different hours, Dan's not home for dinner so we are basically eating ham sandwiches or cereal, PLUS he's all up in my business in the mornings which is throwing me completely out of kilter. There are cardboard packages and plastic inserts (along with wire bendy tie things) everywhere I turn and I am so out of sorts that I don't know where to even start to begin to make this mess back into our home.

So I've just been eating christmas cookies and napping.

I'm hoping that next week things will feel a bit more normal and I can kick some christmas bootie and whip this house back into shape. If not- there is always the week after.

Merry Christmas

2011-12-24T08:42:00.002-05:00

It is my sincere wish that the glory and peace of Christ fill your homes and hearts this Christmas Season.

Merry Christmas.

I may never get all the powdered sugar cleaned out of my stove

2011-12-23T09:23:00.000-05:00

It has been a seven day bake fest going on over here. Six pounds of butter, endless amounts of flour and lots and lots of sugar. (Side note- Those beautiful cookies you see above have the taste and texture of a biscuit. Why you ask? Because I got up at 5am one morning to mix the dough and get a jump on the day and I may have misread the recipe as needing a half cup sugar instead of a cup and a half. Here's hoping a half inch of home made butter creme frosting on top balances the blandness......)

I was planning to start last Saturday and finish Sunday- but best laid plans you know.

Regardless- I got to make all of my favorite christmas recipes and the kids too. Plates for the neighbors are prepared and mostly all are delivered. And there are plenty of each left for a giant plate for our christmas table. Despite adding lots of time and energy at a time of year when there is not much of either, this is one tradition I love and am glad that I got to do with my children.

Now- if they will only keep their grubby little mitts out of them so that they won't be all gone before tomorrow!

Customer Service? Anyone? Anyone? Hello????

2011-12-22T06:34:00.000-05:00

I have come to the realization that customer service does not exist in this world anymore. Anywhere.

Point #1: Last winter Dan and I purchased a new piece of furniture for our living room. And being the high class folks that we are, we did so at Big Lots. Now I know what you are thinking- 'Geez Mynde, how on earth can you afford such high end merchandise'. It was on sale. Sale furniture at the big lots. We Gobles go big.

Now, you can imagine my complete surprise when the recliner foot thing stopped going in and staying in. You can also imagine how easy it is to climb in and out of a chair with the footrest fully extended. I had some friends over for a bag selling/buying party and had to have Dan tie wrap the stupid thing down. After some investigation, I discovered that I had in fact saved the warranty paperwork and receipt and 'cue fancy lights and angels singing' it was covered by a lifetime mechanism warranty. So I called the Big Lots.

I got to speak with a woman in the furniture department who said that they don't make that item anymore and it probably wouldn't be covered. I inquired as to what part of 'lifetime warranty' I was struggling with, because I didn't see a 'or until we quit making this cheap crappy thing' in there anywhwere. She then pointed out that since she couldn't see the chair she wouldn't even know what part to order, which I quickly then offered to bring it to her (you have no idea how anxious I was to load it up and drop it right at her counter).

Then, and here is where the really great customer service comes in, she pointed out that since we had been using the chair for over six months and the mechanism worked for over 4 of them- CLEARLY it was not a manufacturer defect. We must have been misusing the chair.

Yes- she caught us. We had in fact been sitting and reclining in the chair. Most of the time with the footrest. She's like a regular Sherlock Holmes, no wonder she achieved Manager status. I mean really, all manufacturer defects would obviously have shown their ugly heads way before six.whole.months of use. As I began to share my thoughts and praise for her EXCELLENT detection of customer fraud Dan took the phone from me.

I continued to talk to her though, even though I wasn't on the phone. I mean, customer service like THAT deserves all the praise I could offer.

Over a month later, the part that Dan had calmly explained to her to order came in. And Dan went to pick it up. I believe he called the part he needed as the 'left hinge mechanism'. This is what we got:

That, my friends, is the entire recliner foot rest mechanism. Sans upholstery. If I had some foam and extra fabric I could make a whole 'nother chair. Fortunately, my husband knows what the heck he is doing and we now have a functioning footrest. And a really huge box with a bunch of scrap metal.

Point #2: I placed a $30ish dollar order with Kohls online during a sale and a free shipping day. Yesterday it arrived. Twice. Two packages. Two deliveries. Two identical orders. I call up the customer service number, held for over 10 minutes to talk to a person, and explain what has happened. The gal tells me to let her look over the order because if there is anything she wants I can just ship it to her. Once she decides that she doesn't require any of my basically stolen merchandise she explains that I can just return it to the store.

I can return it to the store?

See- I ordered this stuff online so that I wouldn't have to go into the store. And now, because you screwed up, you would like me to drive across town, park amongst the other 3000 Christmas Shoppers, trapse through your entitre store to wait in line at customer service to give you back the stuff YOU accidentally mailed to me? Uh, no. No thanks.

Then she said I could use the shipping label to send it back, all I'd have to do is pay the postage. Really? You'll let ME pay the postage to fix YOUR mistake.

I finished up the conversation by explaining that I had their stuff. They could mail me a postage paid label/envelope/whatever or not. Whatever. I have no use for double my selections, but I am not going to put any money or time into returning them beyond taping it shut and putting it in the mailbox.

She's going to have a member of the customer service team follow up with me. I can hardly wait.

Point #3: 50% of the time that I go to McDonalds and order an UNsweet Iced Tea, I get a sweet tea. And I never notice until AFTER I add four splenda.

Case and point. Customer Service is dead.

4 days and counting

2011-12-21T08:36:00.003-05:00

Just four days until Christmas. Three really- because anything you don't have done by christmas eve isn't going to get done in my world. So- in order to make sure every little detail gets completed, I decided to hop on here and update my blog.

I know, don't say it. I don't stand a chance. The reality is that my children are going to awaken Sunday morning to piles of gifts all neatly tucked inside of target bags and I'm just going to deliver bags of sugar, flour and butter to the neighbors instead of cookies. Plus- it's a good think that the kids are getting some new clothes as gifts, because the laundry might be a little behind. I have found myself wondering if Christmas came and went this fast when we were kids. I know it sure didn't feel like it.

I had grand plans this year. I was going to have everything done early so that I could really focus on the season. Savor it, enjoy it, basque in it's glory. Instead I sit here ~~four~~ three days before it will all be over wishing for just one more week to get to enjoy it all before it's done. I adore this time of year, and I have been so tied up with all the details that I have yet to get to really realize it's here. Combine that with all this RAIN and I just feel like giving up. WHERE IS THE SNOW!

That being said- I was wasting time (valuable precious time that could have been spent doing something, anything productive) on the internets this morning and I ran across this:

The article said it was the PERFECT solution to organizing your junk drawer. It made me giggle because if a calculator, a mint, various thumbtacks and a couple pencils was the problem with my junk drawer, there would be no junk drawer problem.

I reluctantly share with you MY junk drawer:

Gonna take a lot of egg cartons. Big giant egg cartons.

Why do I share this with you today?
#1- to keep from doing the actual work that needs done at my house. duh.
#2- to put off going back to the stores to get the last couple things on our christmas shopping list. duh.
#3- to share the idea that my entire life feels like my junk drawer looks and I'm wishing that I had time to sort it all into it's tiny organized egg carton. But there is no time for that non-sense. So I will just keep plugging away- one day at a time- hoping that I'm somehow getting at least the important things accomplished.

Preparing for excellence

2011-12-20T09:39:00.000-05:00

We are raising people. Sometimes that sucks the everloving breath right from my lungs. These little beings- who came out so helpless and alien like will grow into adults. Real live adult people beings. Ones who can pour their own milk and read.

And apparently Emily is getting a jump on things, as I found this in the playroom this week:

I suppose that I should be comforted that she will probably still need me.

I'm hoping that this res'o'may changes a bit in the next 20 or so years.

My quest for a christmas card photo

2011-12-19T08:06:00.000-05:00

Nice picture- perhaps I should have moved my flash?

Not bad, not bad- but what IS sam doing anyway?

This would work-except why include a picture if you can't even see the kids?

Sam- look OVER HERE!

LOVE THIS- but no children are in it.

SAM! OVER HERE! And stranger guy in the background- move along would ya?

Very nice- if only Sam would have quit drinking that cocoa like I asked.

Ohh- the Grinch and the Who's- I could very seriously use this one.

And this would be a very close second- except my children are not in it either.

I'm teetering on the edge of skipping Christmas Cards again this year. Even though we 'almost' got a photo worthy of being printed. I so wish I would have worked on this the first week of December. Oh well.

I am happy to report though that we had a fantastically wonderful Christmassy family weekend including hot cocoa, cookie decorating, touring christmas lights, seeing the reindeer, fun christmas family movies AND we officially have our christmas tree decorated!!!! Such a glorious time of year, I need to keep my focus on the Lord rather than all the stuff that needs to be done.

Perhaps it was the flu

2011-12-14T06:32:00.000-05:00

I really thought that with all three children throwing up within just hours of each other that there was no possible way that they had anything but food poisoning. I mean, typically when one gets sick it goes through the natural progression in the family- which means someone is throwing up for over a week. But for all three to get sick right at the exact same time? Must be food poisoning.

Until I started throwing up on Monday night. And then I thought that perhaps it was the flu afterall.

I tell you what- I could use a minute to catch my breath. It seems like everything is a bit out of control and when I realize that Christmas is just 11 days away it makes me want to cry. Because THIS was going to be the year that I got everything done early and could just focus on the beautiful season and the birth of Jesus Christ. Which I'm still going to. Over the course of the next few days I am going to whip this house into shape and catch up. We're going to buy the stupid live tree Dan is focused on, decorate it, bake cookies, finish the shopping and by george I am going to start wrapping my christmas gifts.

Just as soon as the entire world quits spinning around in circles.

Today you 'rikka buffet?

2011-12-11T15:57:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I don't have anything to blog about. I just skip a day here or there or blog about the same thing over.and.over because I got nothing. And then the blog fairy comes and pukes all over you- it's a gift really. The kind that keeps on giving.

Last night I was invited to attend a company christmas party with a friend whose husband is deployed. I was honored. And excited. We wore dressy clothes, strappy shoes, make up and got to talk like real live adults while someone else prepared and served us a delicious meal and then others entertained us. It was the first real 'me' thing I've gotten to do in months. Unless you count grocery shopping- which I don't. And you shouldn't either.

Dan took care of the kids.

1am- Sam began vomiting. Non stop. Everywhere. All over everything. After an hour or so of changing bedding and such- we were out of 'such'. Every pillow, blanket, sheet, towel and bedding item was piled up waiting a turn in the laundry room. So I moved him to my bed (risky I know- but I like living on the edge) and crawled in next to him.

2:30am- Emily produces herself in my room and says I might want to wash her sheets. (This is where you should stop reading if you have a woosy stomach). I go to her room and not only has she thrown up all over her sheets and pillows, she has hung her head over the railing of her bed and puked all over allyson's bed, side table and carpeting.

3am- Emily is cleaned up, carpeting cleaned up, both beds stripped and at the back of the laundry train that is making it's way out of the laundry room. I wrestle the dog out of that grossness, again. (Why ARE dogs so gross?) We go to the living room where Allyson is watching a tv show. And she announces she feels like she might throw up.

3:15am- she does.

From there until 9:30 am it was a constant cycle of puke, flushing, laundry, hair holding, cold wash rags, face wiping, carpet scrubbing, and gagging. Until the diarrhea started. Which is about the time Dan woke up oblivious to everything that had been going on for over 8 hours. I tagged him and hit the bed for a three hour nap.

And here it is- almost 4pm and it still hasn't stopped.

Turns out, Dan took the kids out for dinner. And in true bachelor form, they went to their favorite spot. The chinese buffet. Where the children pigged out on chicken nuggets with chinese ketchup and he ate everything but that. And such they were poisoned and he dodged a big giant huge bullet.

I personally find buffets to be kind of gross. And as far as I'm concerned, I win that argument.

On the counter this morning I found a paper fortune.

Chinese fortune cookie version- Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

Translation- Food poisoning is temporary, hang in there. No more buffet for you.

Thank you

2011-12-09T07:42:00.002-05:00

Thank you for all the kind comments and the prayers. Mom came through the surgery beautifully and is now at home. Which means I don't have time to be on here blogging when I need to get there and help take care of her. So stay tuned, just not today.........

October is breast cancer awareness month

2011-12-07T08:05:00.000-05:00

My mom has had breast cancer. Twice. Both times she was diagnosed in October. She's cool like that.

The problem I personally have with that is that #1 my mom has cancer and #2 everywhere I look are freakin pink ribbons and pink cookies and pink cups and pink pink pink. Which is very cool in the essence that awareness is being raised and so is money to fight that beast. But it has been difficult for me because at the time with a fresh diagnosis and not being sure of the outcomes- it just keeps reminding me to be afraid and sad and scared and lost.

December is not breast cancer awareness month. But it is when my mom will have her second mastectomy. If you are a math wizard, you probably have already figured out that she will be left with no more breasts. And to that I say AMEN! They have caused nothing but trouble for the past few years and I say good riddance girls- get to packin. After many doctor visits and discussions- this is the decision for my mom. With all answered prayers she will come through this surgery with flying colors and NO cancer in her lymph glands and she'll get a full 24 hours of ordering tons of food from room service and personalized attention from the nursing staff. Not to mention some super pain pills.

All joking aside- prayers would be appreciated. I need my mom. She makes me crazy, confuses me and for the most part I think I do the same to her. But I love her so much and I need her to be fine. Right now- everywhere I turn the people I love are filled with this bitch cancer, and really it just is pissing me off. Cancer- you suck it big time!

This just in!

2011-12-06T06:00:00.000-05:00

I interupt your otherwise normal day with ~~very important~~ news from my neck of the woods:

Yes- I did in fact awaken at 4:30 this morning to make crayons and rigatoni. I know, right.

I get comments some times from folks whom I don't even know on this blog. And it is my absolute joy and happiness. Really and truly. Makes my entire day. Any kind of comment is just like a giant buttercream icing rose- delicious and pure happiness. Why- just this morning I received this message:

Your blog is very nice I like to enjoy every pages,

pulmonary hypertension symptoms

regards...

Thank you Kushuka. Although I am concerned that after reading MY blog you felt it necessary to just randomly shout out various heath issues? Well- I'll take what I can get. At least you didn't shout out Extreme Nut Job Psychopath. (Kushuka- if you are a real person who really was innocently commenting- word to the wise, perhaps you should save your health advise for your second or third comments- you know, just to keep everyone comfortable. Kay?)

Ice cube trays are NOT baking trays and they will probably melt it your oven. So much for snowman shaped crayons.

The kids informed Dan that what I really really really want for christmas is the new crayola crayon making oven. He said that he didn't believe it. Believe it Dan.

I don't want to cause anyone concern, especially you Kushuka, but I think my mom is trying to kill me. Because she keeps coming at me with cake pan gifts. You remember the beautiful bunt pan she gave to me, right? You would think I would have been on guard when she came a swinging tiny christmas tree pans- but no. I fell for it. Again.

There you have it. Tiny christmas tree shaped brownies snug as a bug inside their little houses. Fortunately my kids are patient and didn't mind digging them out with a knife. Unfortnately I still have to make a dessert to deliver to a dear friend. Good times. Good times.

Don't be crossing your fingers hoping for little brownie cakes mom- you WON"T be getting any.

It is now 5:53AM- I'm going back to bake up some rigatoni cause I got plans to deliver it to a sweet woman. Here's hoping it turns out better than the crayons and brownies.

Deckin' my halls........

2011-12-03T09:48:00.000-05:00

If it'll stand still, chances are it is piled high with crafting stuff.

Now I am not in particular very crafty. But every December I coordinate a kids crafting workshop at our church where the children get to make things to give as gifts.

The tricky part is that most everything involves some prep work- pre cutting, painting, gluing or pre something.

So for about two weeks I spread out 3000 different things everywhere while preparing them.

And in the evening, once I have worked all day doing whatever it is that we mothers do- I sit down with a pile of felt or my glue gun and work on something else for a while. I have blisters on my fingers from boiling hot glue. Seriously.

Snowglobes. Soaked, goo-goned, washed. Ready for the lids to be painted.

Even the kids are getting a little put out with it. They claim there is no where to sit and eat. As if the deck furniture is covered in felt or something- sheesh. Put on a coat and go out there to eat your cereal you pansies. It's just a little frost bite.

The workshop is this Friday. So that is the light at the end of my tunnel. But this is one of my favorite things of the year- it is SO cool to see the kids making things and being so proud of their beautiful creations.

Turns out these little trees for the snowglobes are PAINTED green, probably with lead paint fron china. Which means they've been soaking in my sink for a week trying to drain out the extra coloring so that they won't turn the water green. And in the cup? A sparkly snowflake- checking to make sure the glitter won't come off in water. I'm like a scientist.

So there you have it- my christmas decorations are complete. My only hope is that the glue doesn't run off of anything making it a more permenant part of our home than I plan for it to be.

Fa la la la la, la la, la, la.

I only thought I didn't understand baseball..........

2011-11-30T08:29:00.001-05:00

At least I understood the basic goal of the game though. Baseball that it. And basketball, I kind of get that too. Cheerleading, check. Soccer, for the most part I understand. But wrestling?

I knew the minute I walked in the gym and the coach wrote a series of numbers on my baby's hand and strapped that fancy ear thing to his head that I was confused. And scared. Because I knew that at some point Sam was going to get down on that mat- either on purpose or by force- and I was not looking forward to it at all.

I mean seriously. WHO signs their kid up for this *stuff on purpose?(*I wanted to say shit but I knew my mom would complain about cussing on my blog- but really I think that might be an appropriate word to use here.) But Dan wrestled- and Sam thought it sounded better than basketball- so WE did.

His entire life I have told this boy to get off people, don't hit, no pushing, don't lay on someone, get off the floor, you'll hurt someone when you climb on them................

And now we are freakin' encouraging it. But this time with ear protectors and teeth guards. I must admit- when we got there and they were strapping on these velcro things to their ankles (see the red and green things?) I thought that the little kids were playing flag wrestling and I was hugely relieved. And then I saw kids throwing each other around and I realized I was wrong. Way wrong.

The kid was thrilled. The first two matches he was beaming happy- smiling ear to ear. Even when he got 'pinned' technical term (laid on top of- I call it like I see it). I could hardly watch. I felt like the mom in Karate Kid when Daniel is at the final meet and his leg is all broken and he's crying and messy and she's crying and messy. And I couldn't help but to wonder if Chess Club wouldn't have been a better choice, which is obviously YES because who gets hurt playing chess?

Even on his wrestling restroom break- the kid was happy happy happy thrilled.

Here is Sam and his third match partner playing a little rock-paper-scissors pregame warm up.

Dude- this kid was rough and tumbly. And I KNEW it wasn't going to work out right.

And as he climbed onto Sam's head I saw it coming.

Wait for it.........

There it is- instant hurt neck & and tears, but a still proud, but done, little man.

I'm not sure that he will want to compete in any more 'matches'- but we will continue with the practices because they do good strength training and excercises and for the most part they play 'shoe tag', which totally makes more sense to me anyway.

Because if he progresses and needs that fancy leotard and starts body slamming (or being body slammed) I'm just not sure I can handle it. Nor do I know what to scream from the stands. Some parents were screaming 'Stand Up'- but clearly their kid was under some other kid with his leg wrapped up around by his ear and his arms twisted around their back with their face smooshed into the mat and I'm thinking I'd be screaming 'Surrender'.

But that's just me. Seriously- it was way more than I could handle. I'm thinking ice hockey might be less traumatic. Or demolition derby.

Emma Sue

2011-11-28T05:58:00.000-05:00

My Emily is my middle child. She is beautiful, kind and generous.

She is confident, happy and beautiful in a huge front teeth, awkward body growing phase kind of way.

And she describes the day she was born as the day she became a little sister- rather than the day she became Emily. She lives to be with Ally- I certainly hope some day that child can see that, and appreciate it.

And that Miss Emily is now lying. It is happening frequently. About brushing her teeth, hanging up her jacket, eating her veggies..........seems like about anything at all. And last night, not even an hour after we had a heart to heart about lying and how it makes others not trust us, she did it again. This time it was about taking her inhaler before bed- she looked me right in the face and lied to me. And I had to spank her. Hard. And then I cried myself into a mess. And now this morning, I'm still crying.

Man this parenting thing is no walk in the park.

Eleven

2011-11-27T12:23:00.000-05:00

If my Dad were here today, I'm certain I wouldn't think a thing about it and I would take him for granted. Much like I did eleven years ago and one day before that. The absence of my father has been something so grand that I have struggled with it almost every single day since.

Initially after Dad died, nothing in the universe felt normal. I was in a fog and a haze and I remember at the end of every day being thankful that somehow I had managed to survive another one. It was inconceivable that I would make it to recognize a 'year' marker- let alone eleven of them. I never thought I would be able to have any kind of regular routine again. The mourning was huge, powerful and overwhelming.

And yet here I sit, eleven years later, able to focus and continue. I must admit I've been dreading this week. But still functioning. I no longer wake up multiple time in the night to cry. I laugh without being overwhelmed with guilt. I have children who never met my father on earth, and I can finally talk to them about him without instantly crying. Very rarely do I feel the incredible pressure in my chest that I used to experience several times a day. Not to say my eyes don't still frequently shed tears for the loss of that man, I suppose it's just getting 'easier'- if that's even the right term.

When dad first died, for several many years I would dream about him. Sometimes it seemed so real, like he had never died. After several years, even in my dreams, I knew he had died. But I would purposely try to stay asleep so that I could be with him longer. Because I knew when I woke up he would be gone again. It has been years since I have 'seen' him in my dreams, which is good and bad I suppose. Sometimes, seeing him while sleeping made me miss him even more.

Grief is a nasty little beast. Life will never be normal again- but I have settled into a new normal. One without my Dad. One where my mom is a widow and my children only have one grandpa that they know. One where my dad never answers the phone when I call and on his birthday in August I no longer have to struggle with what to buy for him. I so wish we still had the old normal- the one with him in it. But alas- we don't get to call the shots.

I rest my soul in knowing that there is a promise for reunion. And I am thankful that we serve a Lord that will hold us close until then. But I still miss my Dad.

I am a woman

2011-11-21T08:53:00.000-05:00

I am a woman who cries easily. All I have to do is think about someones pain, and I can feel the tears welling up. I always have been this way. I'm not sure I ever won't be.

I tend to worry about what others think of me. I'm not sure why- but I do. I am trying to focus all of this wasted energy on God and what He thinks of me, but so far it is only working a little.

Sometimes I feel alone, like there is not a soul on the planet who gives a whirl one way or the other. Things have been increasingly like this for me lately, and I then too try to focus on God and the knowledge that He is always with me, and love mes, and really that is all that matters.

I have a scar on my knee from a fall from my bike as a kid. I also have two scars on my belly from two little surgeries here or there. And then I have a nice long scar at the very bottom of my tummy where my babies entered the world. I don't guess I mind them much.

I get hurt feelings. And I don't mend well from them. This is a very selfish part of myself, I know. I'm working on it. The hardest part for me is to have someone hurt my feelings and then not seem to care that they did so. I always wonder why I am so unimportant to them that they wouldn't even care, especially when they are someone I love.

I wish I didn't care quite so much sometimes.

I allow myself to become overwhelmed by things to do. Simply knowing that I have a lot to do, even if I have a plan for doing it, sometimes makes my hear whirr. And yet- there are still more things that I want to do so I just add them to the mix and hope for the best. Sometimes that means I have to get up extra early to make an extra casserole or work on a project. I suppose there are worse ways to spend time.

I get distracted sometimes when I pray and I will find myself thinking about things (mainly things I have to do) while trying to pray. That is when I know I need to refocus.

I pray like 300 times a day. Sometimes a little thank you or praise here or there is more doable for me- I tend to believe that God hears me regardless of how long they are.

I put a lot of energy into friendships. Sometimes though I find that I don't put enough. It's a difficult balance. I suppose I'm learning that the friendships that are the most special are the ones that don't expect a lot from me and they love me anyway.

I am indecisive. At least I think I am. I'm not sure.

I have a husband whom I still find it unbelievable picked me to spend his life with. I wish I wasn't so short of patience sometimes and would let him see the side of me that he fell in love with. But life seems to be a bit too much and I let it overwhelm me- and so I just grump along my day forgetting to enjoy it. And he still loves me.

I would love to have just one more baby. But I'm probably too tired for that.

I think sometimes that I am intuitive, but I don't trust myself enough to go with it. So I talk to much trying to figure out if my thoughts or feelings are correct. This is not something I like about me.

I love with every ounce of who I am.

I am overweight. It is part of who I am right now in my life. I hope someday it is part of my past.

I'm not good at going first. I prefer someone else do that, then I'll go. This includes putting down walls. I guess I worry about exposing myself and being hurt. This is not a good quality. It goes along with worrying about what people think of me.

I hate to clean the shower.

I am no longer a young mom, nor a mother of young children. I'm heading to that middle aged thing- and I hope I develope the confidence that I've always envisioned comes with it.

There you have it. Me, in a nutshell. I am the woman that God created me to be, and I hope that I continue to grow and change as my life progresses. Although change is hard for me, and tends to bring me to my knees when it involves things that I wasn't prepared for. But I will try to embrace it and see what God's plan is for me and my world.

But until then- I will cry a little more and mourn the loss of the 'normal' things that I loved.

Sam

2011-11-18T06:47:00.002-05:00

Wow. It figures a boy would end up with those kind of eye lashes.

We speak a different language

2011-11-17T07:45:00.000-05:00

For the most part, I have found the teachers that my children have been blessed with to be totally relatable. That is changing a bit now for Allyson as she has multiple teachers who consume her day- but even still, they are people I feel I can talk openly with (for the most part- side eye to that rachety swim instructor. ahem.)

But Sam's sweet kindergarten teacher this year? We don't relate. I have a very dry sense of humor. If you are here reading my blog, then you probably 'get' it, hence the reason you keep coming back to this boring little corner of the interwebs. But I learned very early on with her that I needed to keep to the point. No joking, no playing around, no sillyness.

If you haven't read yesterdays post about Sam's turkey costume, go do that real quick. Cause this next part has to do with that. No worries, I'll wait.

Alright, now we are ready. I sent Sam's teacher an email and explained that we'd received the project and told her how very excited Sam was about it. I also explained to her what his 'disguise' was for his turkey because I didn't want her to look at it and get angry with him assuming he just colored the page blue and didn't put an ounce of thought or energy into it. I told her how excited he was to show me his handiwork and that he was CERTAIN not a single soul would know where his turkey was.

She responded to my email by letting me know that she understood and if I sent it back in with him, she would be happy to give him some blue construction paper to construct a real disguise for his bird. AND THEN she sent an email to the entire class explaining that if anyone was unable, either with time or resources, to do this project with their children that they could return it and she would help them.

And then I cried. Shoulders heaving, crocodile tears streaming my cheeks, open mouth sobbing crying. I am by no means the mother of the year, nor have I ever felt my children received any kind of special gift when God asked them to come be my children. For the most part, I see 1000 better mothers that they could have been given. But I really am trying my darndest, and I love them with every ounce of my being. And this woman, even though I explained the situation, assumes that Sam has no one at home willing to give him turkey disquise project creating time.

After sobbing it out for a few, I sent her an email back and I told her that ~~if she so much as touched that turkey I would break her fingers~~. she misunderstood and that Sam was VERY proud of his turkey and I would prefer she not suggest he create a proper costume for it, and that I just wanted her to know what it was supposed to be. And then I wished her a good day.

And then I cried some more. Because lately the world is squishing my heart in what feels like a hundred directions and I'm tired and worn out. But the LAST thing I am is a disconnected non-turkey-disquising mother.

Better go get ready for my day- it gets to start at the dentist (yes- I broke another freakin tooth) (no- I don't chew on rocks).

You just can't buy this kind of creative

2011-11-14T15:11:00.000-05:00

Sam brought home a special project. He had a white sheet of paper with a plain turkey on it and he was to create a disguise for it. It came with a letter with the instructions. It says "You can use anything to create your turkey disguise including felt, glitter, paper, cotton balls, stickers, candy and so on". It's a contest- the rest of the teachers are going to vote for a winner. Sam was beside himself excited- so much so that he had it completed before he got home...................

THAT is a turkey hiding in a trash can. And I am the mother that I'm certain his teacher assumes pays not a lick of attention to her child. Although I do- and me and my crafting glue feel kind of cheated out of this fabulous project.

Good luck Sam- may the best turkey win.

11/11/11

2011-11-11T07:34:00.000-05:00

Emily missed the bus this morning. It was bad enough that she was running behind, but then the bus came early (which is totally against the rules) and there was no hope.

So after we put Ally on her bus, I loaded my children into the cold van to drive her to school. And then she threw up. So we unloaded the car and back into the house we went.

I only wish she could have puked BEFORE I woke Sam up- now they are both awake at the crack of dawn and starting their normal bickering, argue over the TV, whats for breakfast routine. And I still haven't had my morning coffee yet.

Looks like Eleven is most certainly not my lucky number.

Life just isn't living without you

2011-11-10T08:20:00.000-05:00

I can't even remember when- but I do remember the day. The day I found the PERFECT step stool for our kitchen.

It was wide and sturdy. Safe for me to hop onto to in order to dig out the cream of tarter from the back of the spice cabinet. And you KNOW that it was WAYYYY in the back- because what the heck do you use it for anyway other than Snickerdoodle cookies? Or for Dan to use to change the lightbulbs. Or to pull up as a chair when visiting with company at my kitchen counter. It was also a perfect time out spot for our children. Or me- when I was in need of a time out myself.

It was a dark wood color, heavy and strong, sturdy (but I already mentioned that) and it had a long slot right in the middle for carrying it around. And we carried it everywhere. Anywhere that we needed to climb up a little higher- the back of the top shelf of the linen closet, to get down one of the things I store on top of the laundry room cabinets, out in the yard to give Sam the extra height to reach the lowest branch.........everywhere.

And then just like *that*- one day Sam comes peeling through the kitchen not paying a lick of attention to where in the heck he is going and trips right over my stool. Wood flies one direction, Sam flies the other........and my stool is broken forever.

For the record- I'm pretty sure Dan could have fixed it, he just claimed he couldn't because he's a weiner. (no more anonymous comments from you either fever boy- you could have fixed it).

The only stools I can find to replace it are plastic. And foldable. Gross.

So here's the deal, if you have seen or know of one of these stools (originally sold for like, ever, at Bed Bath and Beyond only they don't carry them anymore, only their ugly plastic counterparts) PLEASE LET ME KNOW. Even if it is in your Great Aunt Myrtles basement, I can make a pretty slick offer that I'm sure she won't turn down. I've got cash and a cabinet loaded with hand lotion and toothpaste. I'm pretty sure we can come to an agreement. And I'll reward you too- you know, like a finders fee. You won't be buying dishsoap for an entire year- or maybe even toothbrushes too if you locate it in the same dark wood color.

I need that stool.

The one where my husband is dead because I killed him

2011-11-08T14:05:00.000-05:00

So- Dan is on the mend. But it has been a LONG two weeks. He's laid on ice bags, heating pads, massaging things. He's taken anti-this and anit-that and some serious serious pain pills. I imagine when this is all over he will 'awaken' and wonder where he's been for the past 16 days. To top it all off- last Friday he developed pneumonia. More pills. More sleeping. Probably exactly what he needed to keep still for a few days and try to heal. But he has been one sick dude.

And me? I've done all the cooking, kid running, concerts, errands, shopping, trash taking out, house stuff. lawn stuff and everything else that we do. I even had to assemble my own cheap pressed board shelves, which I'm pretty sure is totally Dan's responsibility. I'm flat worn out.

Sunday- Dan's fever came back and he was feeling horrible. So he remained at home on our comfy living room furniture wearing a sweatshirt, hat, and a blanky and shivering his heiny off while I prepared and left with our family for church. Upon returning home, I grabbed some frozen pizzas from the freezer and popped them in. I needed something simple and quick- I was hoping to get to sit down somewhere that afternoon and rest before taking the kids (again- by myself) to a fancy show that evening.

When I called everyone for lunch, I heard Dan mumble from the living room. Any guesses what he said????

"I can't remember the last meal we've eaten that wasn't Italian".

And there I stood, totally dumbfounded in the kitchen where I had washed the dishes, made the lunch and had it all plated up (with drinks) for everyone.

He was still sittin' on the couch trying to figure out why I was mad when chopped his head off with a pizza cutter.

Don't mess with the momma maffia.

Allyson would just DIE

2011-11-05T09:31:00.000-04:00

Last night- a husband with pneumonia (I know- that poor guy, right?) inspired me to take our children out of the home to offer him some rest. I'm a giver.

A dinner at Chick Fil A followed by a trip to JC Penney. Yes- we really are THAT fancy.

Now- if you know me, or happen to be one of my children, you know that trips to the mall to shop are few and far between. We typically manage to have most of what we need passed down from dear friends or I have been picking it up here and there at yard sales or plucking it off clearance racks. But this year, there were a few holes in the kids Fall/Winter wardrobes that needed addressed. So armed with my fancy schmancy $10 coupons- we headed in.

Which brings me to the point of this whole thing. Underwear. Allyson needed some.

Somehow in my partially demented mind, I thought I was just the woman to shop for it with her. Except, she no longer can wear the small fruit of the loom packs with Dora on them. Which means one thing- we must go to the WOMENS department.

I suppose I hadn't realized how trashy undergarments had gotten. I mean, I'm ~~fat~~ curvy woman and in the stores that I shop at, our stuff is just- you know- Regular. Durable. Strong. Functional. Perhaps an animal print here or there- but dear heavens it was nothing like THIS!

We began browsing the racks, the whole time Allyson has her arms crossed over her chest with her 'scouring' face on because she is MORTIFIED that she is even IN the underwear department let along shopping for HERSELF. You can only imagine the response I got when I held a pair up to her rear end to check for size- you'd have thought I was electrocuting her.

On a side note- I almost asked the attendant to measure her bra size just because I was feeling a tad evil. But I didn't. I'm saving that for some other lesson teaching opportunity.

As we walked from rounder to rounder I was surprised by the names of these products. Flirtageous- really? Young woman need to wear something called THAT? But then- I began trying to find something (anything) appropriate and I realized that I was fighting a battle. A BIG one. Occasionally I would find something I thought was okay. You know- normal bikini underpants, plain color, SANS straps, lace panels, or sheer sections- only to hold it up to show Allyson and discover a huge CUTIE PIE or some equally obnoxious saying painted across the heiny.

I was gasping. Openly. Clutching my head, scowling, piercing my lips. At one point I think I broke out in hives. Then we meandered over to the bra section. Where Allyson holds up a chartreuse colored number and asks about it. I promptly said no. She seemed sincerely confused. It was padded with cheetah print lining. WHAT THE HELL MANUFACTURING COMPANIES!

I'm telling you this. We are going to continue this quest at Target and it is my hopes that they offer something simple, plain and modest for a young woman to wear. Otherwise- I'm going to hold a protest of my own and it is going to involve animal print thongs and lace bras................and lighter fluid.

**** Disclaimer*****No children were physically harmed in the actual shopping trip. Except Sam who may or may not have fallen off of a rack when he was trying to show us where he thinks BALLS would go in a scary womanly gertle contraption. Only emotional damage and trauma were inflicted on my children and innocent bystanders as I screamed and ran in circles shouting things about modesty and being lady like. And for the record- Emily would have totally picked the Smurf panties last time we went shopping if they offered them in her size- (stupid manufacturing companies.)

2011-11-03T08:22:00.000-04:00

This little piggie is going to live with another family today. A friend at work has a little boy who has been BEGGING for one of these little critters for a while and he turns 11 this week. Chocolate is his gift. If I am guessing correctly, I am thinking he will only be called Choclate for another 5 hours or so. Then he'll probably be renamed something like Super Ninja, Rambo or Schazam. As long as he is going to a good home and won't be named anything like Crock Pot Guinea Casserole- it's all good.

We still have the other piggie- but he might be leaving our home too. Rosie (our new dog) doesn't like the guinea pigs like we like the guinea pigs. We think they are sweet, she wants to eat them. Therefore, the door to the girls room has to remain shut. This is troubling their asthma I'm afraid (even though I am changing them three times a week- the cedar dust is also quite heavy in there). Plus- they aren't really holding them anymore because of the whole dog thing (she can jump pretty high). We'll see- we might try and relocate his cage to something higher, really high actually, and see if that works at all.

And just to answer your question in advance, Yes- I did in fact allow the girls to convince me to paint their room that color. Say it with me, WOW!

Birthday Wishes

2011-11-02T08:31:00.000-04:00

You know how when you have a birthday approaching and people may or may not ask you if there is anything you are wanting as a gift? And you say 'No- I have everything I need'. And sometimes you mean it, but sometimes you are secretly hoping for something in particular?

Something flashy, bling blingy, off the hook?

As the years have progressed, so has my 'wish' list. Some years, all I really wanted was a child to fill my lap to help blow out a candle on any kind of cake in the universe. Some years, I just wanted a waitress to bring me a hot meal and then wash the dishes afterward. Truth be told- I love my birthday. Mostly because my husband goes over the top. He truly does make the day about me. He has the kids so wound up that they are exploding with information regarding a 'surprise' ice cream cake hidden in the freezer. They shop, look, sneek around, hide things. I LOVE it!

This year though, I made no bones at ALL about what I would LOVE to get as a gift. If I were to get a gift, which I certainly didn't require, but should anyone ask about what kind of GIFT I might enjoy, then THIS was the answer that I wanted them to hear:

Flashy stylish clothes- NO
Vintage jewelry- NO
Rare Paintings- NO
Engraved Candlesticks- NO

My hopes were for something much GRANDER than any of those.............
A Four Slice Toaster and
A big super squishy bicycle seat to accomodate my rear end

Funny how our wish lists progress as we age, isn't it?

There she is, in all her glory. A four, count them, FOUR slice toaster. My frozen waffle making days just got much easier!

(I got the mushy bike seat too- but I'm sparing you a picture of my derier planted upon it!)

MIA

2011-11-01T07:53:00.000-04:00

Boy- it has been a whirlwind week. If you are here, reading my silly ramblings, thank you for that. And rest assured (or unsured- whichever) that I most certainly am NOT giving up on blogging. Just been a little unavailable.

First up- in celebration of our wedding anniversary and my birthday we spent a wonderful weekend in St. Louis........

Then I turned.........well, I had another birthday. Although, let me assure you that I look older than I am. But I'm going to work on that, tomorrow. When I have more time.

I worked on our christmas card photos...........

This man developed a kidney stone while in St. Louis and dang near died trying to survive the 4 hour ride back home. He then spent his first day back to work after a weeks vacation at the ER to find out it was in fact NOT a kidney stone but a pulled muscle. He then spent the next three days so doped up on muscle relaxers and pain pills that he BARELY had enough strength to keep telling me and the kids to hush it. Finally- he was able to return to work at the end of the week- but he is still a train wreck, let me tell ya. Nothing has shaken me that hard. Seeing him so physically destroyed- it has scared me. We really need this man. Really need him. And not just because he is the only one who knows how to use the jumper cables either.

Allyson had her first band concert. It was 6 bands, 4 choirs- each performing 3 songs. You do the math. (either way, the answer is LONG). Because of my lack of planning and completely chaotic week, I managed to cut out the makings for 25 scarecrow treat bags during the concert for the next days room party. Yeah- I'm cool like that. At this concert- a dear and sweet friend surprised us by actually coming to see Ally perform- it had been a horrible day and it made me cry. Thank you God for that tender mercy. (And no- I didn't make her cut out scarecrow eyes. But I should have). (And yes- the band director is dressed as Elvis.)

We entered a pumpkin carving contest at a local jewelry store............AND WON!

~~Did I mention we were the only entry?~~ Good news for us- we get to see a show and go out for dinner!

And then there was an entire weekend of super fabulous halloween parties laced with a couple nights of sleepovers, a trip to the childrens museum, and the apple orchard (kids were on Fall break).

(it was around this very fire that I may or may not have consumed too much of a particular party beverage and may or may not have had to spend most of the next day in bed. uhg- a drinker I am not.)

Pumpkin carving- of course. Where we learned that Rosie would LOVE to get her mouth on some serious pumpkin juice goo- and then she did and we all just screamed out 'EWWWW'.

Until the sneaky little beast grabbed the lid to Emily's pumpkin and took off like a flash. Now THAT was entertaining watching all the kids chasing after her for like ever. She is one fast little dog!

And that brings us to yesterday where we cap off a super chaotic week with Halloween. Sam originally was a power ranger- so I had not made his original request of a Knight costume. Until he mentioned last minute that he REALLY wanted to be a knight after all. Which could only mean one thing. Me and my sewing machine had to disassemble a dusting wand and create a knight hat just a mere few hours before the haunting hours were to begin. But we did- and my Knight was happy.

There they are- my Knight, Anti-Cupid and Popcorn.

Man I love Halloween!

Odd

2011-10-25T08:15:00.000-04:00

Mothers do odd things.

They cup their hands to catch vomit of their small children. They *know* they will not be able to prevent the mess, but they still do it- out of pure instinct.

They wipe snot right off their kids faces...........with their shirts.

And they save small little bloody pieces of teeth. Forever. Please tell me I am not the only one.

I personally use small 35mm film canisters. I have one labeled neatly with Allysons name and the date for every tooth that is inside of it. And one for Emily with a similar row of neatly labeled dates. And last night- as Sam managed to wiggle out his SECOND tooth in two days (I kid you not)- I found myself frantically searching for another small canister. Only, guess what? We don't use 35mm film anymore so there are NO MORE TEETH CANISTERS TO BE FOUND!

Certainly I can not just keep a pile of his small little perfectly perfect teeth in my jewelry box. So I did what any other mother would do. I found a small plastic box filled with a pair of earplugs and I converted it to the boys bloody tooth container box. And I tucked it away into the cedar chest at the foot of my bed, along with the other two containers of bone fragments. But only after rubbing the sharp edge of that tooth 100 times remembering the excitement as they first pierced his little gums just a short 5 years ago.

What gross creatures we mothers are. But only a tad more so than bleeding gummed cheering kids jumping up and down cradling small blood covered bone parts.

Loosing it

2011-10-24T08:14:00.000-04:00

Sammy lost his very first tooth.........on my birthday. *sniff*

Taking matters into their own hands.

2011-10-21T08:30:00.000-04:00

Cell phones have become a fairly common item in our society. So much so, that even our children are 'kind of' beginning to wonder when they will 'get' theirs. Kind of like a social security card they think. That everyone NEEDS one and is just given one when the time comes.

Which is so totally not the case. Because see- I'm kind of like an old fashioned grandma in the sense that we still have a house phone. A real live phone that is connected to the outside world by actual wires that run on poles down the side of the road. And I do in fact have a cell phone- but see- I'm an adult. And I have a job to pay for that luxury. And for over 1900 years (and longer) people survived without cell phones. Cable tv too, so I hear. So I am positive that they are in fact not a necessity. And my feeling with my children is that someday, perhaps soon- or maybe not, we will choose to provide them with a nicety such as a cell phone. But it will be for MY conveninience and assurance of their safety, rather than for theirs. And right now, I'm just not positive that it is the time.

Interestingly enough, Sam decided to make his own cell phone. With any luck he will let Allyson borrow it and she will quite begging me for one.

Fifteen

2011-10-19T08:15:00.000-04:00

Today marks the anniversary of the day Dan and I were joined in marriage. A big day in our lives. The biggest I suppose. The day we chose to join as one and begin this life journey together.

As I stumbled down the hallway this morning in a rush to start my coffee before awakening children and beginning our day, I flicked on the light and was surprised by a vase of flowers on the counter. A simple vase from our cabinet stuffed full of yellow flowers. Simple. Yet overwhelming.

Overwhelming because they were like 2 feet long. Not trimmed. Not arranged. Not fortified with the included flower food. Just removed from the wrapping they came in and crammed in a vase with some water. They are EXACTLY what I would expect from my husband. MY husband.

MY husband is not polished, etiquette sensitive, worried or troubled. MY husband is plain, simple, average. But in an extraordinary way simply average. He would never hesitate to do whatever is needed to make whatever it is that we (his family) need (or want) possible. He works hard. He gives freely. He snores like a chainsaw. He saves his laughs for when his soul is really happy. And when he laughs, you can't help but to laugh with him. He forgives. He loves. Most importantly, he loves ME. And he probably spent some time trying to decide which package of flowers to select to stuff in that vase. And I know he made a special trip to a special store and read 15 cards to pick the one that was right for ME. He is a simple man, but complex in our marriage. OUR marriage. And I know I am blessed beyond any amount of measure.

As I looked at the flowers on the counter, I didn't even notice that there was a card and a special box of chocolates just for me placed next to them. Why you ask? Because the counter in our kitchen is the collecting space. Some would call it a breakfast bar- it has barstools on one side and is open to the kitchen on the other. On the counter this morning: a bag of special carefully selected purchases at the local drug store made by our oldest Allyson, an envelope reminding me to send in my $3 for a pumpkin donation, a letter asking for donations for a room party, an applesauce cup stuffed with dirt and appleseeds lovingly crafted by Emily in hopes of growing an apple tree, Dan's everloving styrofoam cup from the gas station (there is ALWAYS a styrofoam gas station cup on our counter thanks to this husband of MINE), a batman book of sams, a make up bag of emilys, a basket that is loaded with coupons that need my attention, the toaster and a broken time out stool.

I stood there, admiring my flowers and thinking what a flipping mess our house always seems to be. Especially this counter. And then it hit me, the perfectness of it all. Here we are, 15 years later after joining together as basically young naive kids, surrounded by the complete chaos that is our family and our lives, and I wouldn't change a single solitary thing. Not one. These fifteen years have been good to us- and I love the litter scattered all over my home that is a result of them.

And as I sit here typing this, the sound of machine guns is blazing from the TV in the living room. See- Dan is on vacation this week. Which means that he is all up in my business, screwing with my quiet time that I capture for myself every morning. And I feel like throwing the TV out onto the deck. But I won't- because it is our anniversary and word on the street is we have a babysitter tonight and we are going out for a real dinner date. Just us in a restaraunt with real plates and no playland, at least I hope. And if not- that will be perfectly perfect as well.

15 years- I am a blessed woman.

Broken

2011-10-17T07:53:00.000-04:00

The only word I can think of to describe myself is broken.

Second runners up? Tired, defeated, discouraged, hurt, disappointed, but broken seems to fit the best. What a mangled mess of a few weeks we've had- and it has all just about sucked the life right from me.

And to top it off, I can not get my children healthy. At all. It has been one cough or runny nose, sore throat or hurting ears after another for weeks. Months it feels. And I am so very tired of running back and forth to the doctor and pharmacy. Of scrubbing bathrooms more frequently, changing handtowels twice as much, and buying toothbrushes.

I can not for the life of me figure out why I can't get these people healthy.

And late Friday night, when Allyson complained of ear pain. I did the unthinkable. I started her on an antibiotic. Without going to the doctor. I know. What the hell was I thinking. It's just that I had an ENTIRE bottle of antibiotic in the cabinet for her from an error a couple of months ago. Our doctor and the minute clinic gal phoned in the same prescription- I was the schlumph who got stuck paying for both. And so I decided that it was what the minute clinic people would do anyway- and so I gave it to her.

And now I feel like a real rule breaker, hiding over here with my contra-ban amoxicyllin, hoping the feds don't come rolling up in my drive to take me away. And today- she isn't much better, and I would like to take her to the doctor. You know, the REAL one (unlike my self appointed doctoring self). But I can't.
Because then I'd have to point out that I am a horrible mother who gave her child a prescription drug without instruction.

So I let her convince me to send her to school. Even though her lungs are junky. One more day. I will give her one more day before I turn myself in.

Yeah- broken. That about sums my mood up.

An apple a day.........

2011-10-11T08:31:00.001-04:00

I try to be responsible. I really do. But there just isn't enough time.

Because of this, I have been brainstorming and I have come up with a solution. And I was thinking that I would post it here as a way of protecting my idea to prove it was mine in case someone steels it. But lets be realistic, I don't even have time to drop off the stupid dry cleaning, let alone bring this brain child of mine into fruition. So if you can, have at it. You're welcome.

Picture it. One building. In the front is a dry cleaner. This wasn't part of my original 'vision', but typing the above information made me think it is clearly a good addition. In the back, a doctors office. Only it's not any regular office. It's more of a one stop shop.

Once called back, you strip naked (but you are given a soft terry cloth robe thing that actually fits) and climb into a dental type chair and put your feet in the stirrups. In the next hour you will receive every kind of treatment you are supposed to for the year (or six months if we're talking teeth- those details are going to have to be worked out because clearly going in TWICE a year for teeth cleanings isn't going to fit into my plan very well).

Your teeth will be cleaned. And any other dental work done.

You will receive your annual pap smear. And mamogram, if necessary. That one is going to be tricky- but I'm thinking a 'portable' mamogram machine that looks like a tortilla press is going to have to be invented but I'm sure it can be done.

If necessary- a colonoscopy. And if you are a man- a prostate exam. I guess. I mean I don't know if men get this annually or what. But if they do- then they will get one.

Eye exam.

A pedicure and a manicure. And a hand wax dip- just because that sounds wonderful. And maybe a shoulder massage and a sinus treatment with that steamy eucalyptus stuff.

Bikini wax- if you do that kind of thing. Or just eyebrows, but this will have to be timed right so that the dentist and this person don't get in each others way.

Meanwhile, the hairdresser will be trimming your hair that is hanging off of the headrest. I envision her being 'underneath' kind of like in a pit like at the oil change place.

There will also be someone who takes your blood samples and sends them away for all of those annual test things. The chair will also be equipped with a stethescope built into the back of it so that the doctor can listen without having to have you move.

And while this is happening, you get to watch one of your DVR'd shows in the ceiling TV. You know, like the season opener of Hell's Kitchen that you STILL have yet to get to see (even though the show is over and the winner has been chosen- don't tell me who won).

And see- all of this will take place simultaneously. No waiting. Not holding on. No just a few more minutes. All. at. once.

And then an hour later you walk out, all done with everything. One hour out of your life. One afternoon. Done.

And your drycleaning that you dropped off on your way in? Done too- you can grab it and take it home. With your pictures you printed (mental note- add photo lab to the list). And your car is washed and vacumed and the oil is changed. Along with the tires being rotated.

Of course, there are a few wrinkles that still need ironed out. Sanitation for one, since we're talking colonoscopies along with dental stuff. But those little details will come with time. I'm focusing on the big picture here. Can you imagine getting every embarrassing, time consuming appointment overwith all at once? Who wouldn't pay big bucks for this kind of service.

I think I'm onto something.

Family Time!

2011-10-10T07:57:00.001-04:00

My family came over last night to celebrate September and October birthdays- it was a blessing. And that cake? It may look hideous, but that is a Chocolate Mayonnaise Cake with home made Butter Cream Frosting. It was YUM! I also made a peach cobber that was YUM too!

September marks my niece and my mom's days of birth, and October are mine and ally's.

It was nice to visit. Even if my mean brother snapped at emily because she dipped her chip in the bowl of cheese and made her cry big alligator tears. Then I cried big alligator tears too because it hurts to see a child hurting. And then we all got over it and my nephew helped us conquer Bowser and 'we' completed world 8 in Super Mario Bros. And now we have access to the secret star world. I drank a bottle and a half of wine. My sister in law drank the other 1/2. Then I distributed razors, toothpaste, soap and laundry detergent from my stockpile and everyone went home.

I'm still washing dishes this morning.

But it was worth it!

I done donated!

2011-10-07T07:47:00.000-04:00

Dearest school,

Yes indeedy, we are full swing in the new school year- and I've got the empty wallet to prove it. Sweet Nibblets you are some needy people.

I mean we hadn't even set foot in the building before we had the kids individual lists- which are always a highlight of the end of the summer. That big old list of fabulous things we get to hunt down and purchase....yay school supplies. All 1,278 items of them.

And then- at meet the teacher night, we are always glad to pick a few things off of the teachers 'wish' list. Extra kleenexes, dry erase markers, wipes. You know- stuff that us parents are glad to make available for our kids teachers. Glad to do it.

$2 to help cover the printing cost for the school directory, no problem.

Weekly Newsletter mentions that teacher could really use some candy donated for the Candy Grill (the kids special place should they earn ALL five days of not loosing a single cube). We sent in the BIG bag- the one with like 170 pieces of candy in it. I figure I'm done with this request for the year.

Note from teacher- needs more dry erase markers. Really? I just sent in two 6 packs. But okay- I mean I have them and I don't mind if you really need them.

Kleenexes for the nurses office, on their way.

M&M's for Mr. M's graphing project, of course I will send in a bag. After all, anything that helps Sam learn his letters is only a benefit.

Time to sell Entertainment Books? Really? Wow- we'll try. And end up just buying them ourselves. Now I have a stack of these things- better make sure I use some serious coupons to get the money back. Lucky for me there are lots that I can use for, you guessed it, DONATIONS.

Candy for the Entertainment Book selling party? Uh- okay I guess. Each kid selected their own preference of a giant bag of candy. Funny how only ONE variety actually made it to the party. Oh yeah- I noticed. I'm smelling your breath office girls, and I KNOW The smell of chocolate.

And would this be a good time to mention the photo copy room supplies. Last year, I asked the library assistant for a postit note and a rubber band and you would have thought I was a Russian Spy asking for the US National Safety Plan based on the look on her face. She carefully unlocked a drawer, pulled out a lock box, inside was a locked zippered pouch, where she carefully removed a single post it note-tore it in half, and handed it to me. She then said that there are NO rubber bands to be seen. Anywhere. I've since been picking up various office supplies when I find them cheap to send her way. I mean, how can teachers possibly do their jobs without paper clips and rubber bands?

Fall Festival time? Okay- I'll clean out our board games and donate our old ones, and our old books too. And I'll swing by the store and pick up some two liters for the ring toss, and capri suns for the cafeteria. Might as well grab a few cookie mixes, because I know you'll be asking for sweet shop donations. Oh- and the check is in the kids backpacks for their tickets. As well as my volunteer form. And I saw the dinner ticket sale form, where we can buy back those capris suns we donated. I'll get right on top of that.

What was that? Oh- I nearly forgot about the individual class room silent auction baskets. Of course, we'll be glad to send in a few items for each. Although I have no idea what the hell a Tail Gating basket is or what I'm supposed to send for it. But I'll do my best.

And not to worry- I got to speak with the room mom for Sam's room. We discussed Sam's peanut allergy. And she mentioned that she was going to be asking for, you guessed it, cash donations. She mentioned that 'someone' at the school said she should just ask for cold hard cash because the afternoon class is really bad about donating stuff.

What? Sorry if I missed something you were asking for. I MUST HAVE BEEN AT THE FREAKIN' STORE BUYING SOME OTHER SHIT YOU NEEDED.

Lord help me. I'm trying to be a generous giver here, but you are the neediest folk I've ever met. And if I even hear a single word, I mean it, a single word, about the glue stick shortage, I might just go postal. Do us all a favor and just raise the book rental by $10 and buy your own stuff. Because this momma is getting worn out and the stress from remembering everything is about to put me well over the top.

I don't mean to scare anyone with the term 'going postal'.

See you at the Fall Festival, let me know if there is anything else that you need. I don't really mean that. I do kind of. Glad to help. Sometimes.

A perfect Dozen

2011-10-06T08:34:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend, Allyson turned 12. As in years old. Which still makes me clutch my stomach and shake uncontrollably. Because she is the baby. My first baby. And she changed my entire life.

She led me to God. Straight up. Before her, I knew there was a God and Jesus was his son and blah blah blah- and that is just how it was in my head. But the minute she began growing in my tummy, I just knew I had to know more. I had to meet Him. Know Him. Find Him.

For He had given me a gift that I didn't even realize would be the entire purpose for the rest of my life. He had led me down the path to deliver me to Him, and I didn't even realize it. And every day, I wanted to serve Him by raising this gift in His name.

And on most days, I fall very short. But thank you God, she doesn't seem to notice most of the time.

But lately, I feel so very lost in trying to even connect to this child. I can do her physical needs, but emotionally I miss her so very much.

This year- between the 11th and 12th candles- she has changed and grown so fast that I want to strap her to something just so it will all slow down. She is funny and whitty, caring and compassionate, forgiving and loving.........and at the snap of a finger she can be emotional and snippy, sarcastic and rude. She's looking for herself. And I want to help her, but she wants so very little to do with me most of the time.

In true celebration style- we had a slumber party. Dinner out for pizza, crazy song singing, t-shirt tie dying, laughing, movies, and an entire basket of left over items forgotten at our house.

And now that the actual anniversary of her birth has past, I feel this unshakable pressure to hurry and finish with what morals and lessons I want to try and cram into her. I'm not sure why the hurry- but it seems she is slipping further and further (emotionally anyway) away and I must be quick in making sure she has HEARD everything I want her to hear. Only problem is......she doesn't seem to be wanting to listen.

And I know this is crazy talk- because she is just 12 for crying out loud. So far from fleeing the nest and joining the circus- but the time is coming so quickly where she is quickly influenced by friends, having opportunities to be with them more than not, private phone calls, boys sending flowers on her birthday (gasp).............she is blossoming and I worry. I just do.

So I will share here my words for her as she turns 12:

Sweet Allyson, know your God. Listen to His words, study His lessons. Follow your heart, listen to the little voice in your head. Unless it is leading you in the wrong place- in that case, listen to the OTHER one. You are a child of God, and you will make mistakes, and you will have sin. We will still love you. And so will the Lord. Please tell me that somewhere inside you like that I love you and that you are only pretending to be a little snot because you think it is what you are supposed to do. And, by the way, stop being a snot. Don't follow. Lead. Make choices for what you know is right. Understand that we can't do what everyone else is doing, because that is just not what the Gobles do. Brush your teeth and for crying out loud put on some deodorant.......every day. Know that you are beautiful- but not because of your body. But because of your spirit. And let that spirit shine- because nothing in the world can make a person any more breathtakingly gorgeous. Don't judge. Don't worry. Don't question your life. Just live it- walking in the steps the Lord has chosen for you. Listen to the lessons you are being taught. Open your heart and really hear them. Be respectful. Be kind. Be confident in who you are. Because you are really great. Take time every day to listen for the voice of God. Be modest. Be quiet. Be respectful. Be kind. Be happy. And for crying out loud, be careful. And know that your Dad and I love you so very very much. And that we are new to this too, and we're doing our best.

I've apparently joined a gang

2011-10-05T08:43:00.000-04:00

Sam is settling into being in school just fine. He is making friends, not loosing discipline 'cubes' very often and his favorite part is recess. However, he still holds his pencil in a fist and doesn't know a single sight word. The acedemics will come I hope, his focus is apparently on the social part.

He is, however, starting to 'get it'. The whole idea that when you put letters together they make words. And he is recognizing words all over his world and is now asking what they say. Pretty much all the time. The other day, while driving to school, we passed one of those cars with the blinky lights and flags and the huge yellow WIDE LOAD sign. He was intrigued.

He then decided to draw a picture of it. But he needed help spelling it. So I would say the letter and wait for him to write it. But he couldn't remember which letters were which. I then proceeded to make the letters with my fingers to help him remember..... while driving the car. The W, the D, the E, the A- you get the picture. While at a stop sign, I realized that the guy ahead of me was watching me in his rear view mirror. He must have thought I was flashing up some new fangled gang signs. Or having a stroke. Whatever.

We got to school- but were late due to a doctors appointment. I walked him into the office, signed him in, got his late slip and turned to find him waving at all his friends who were parading past the office. So cute, so little, so excited to see each other.

Sam had a situation a few weeks back. He was late so I had to sign him in, like I was this time. He got his pass and took off down the hall to his classroom and I left. Apparently he had no idea where he was going and ended up walking the halls of the school, kind of scared, not knowing where in the heck his classroom was. This time, he asked how to get to his class and I explained that he could just follow the giant K signs and the arrows and they would lead him to his class. He seemed fairly confident. Until he asked what a K looked like again. So I drew him a K on the back of his late pass- and he was prepared to head to class.

As he got ready to leave the office, I wished him a good day and told him I see him in a little bit and I bent down to kiss him. He pursed his lips and leaned in to kiss me when his eyes drifted out of the office glass to his buddies in the hallway and he froze. Once his eyes moved back to me, his little lips loosened and he simply said 'Maybe later mom'.

And off he went. No kiss for his letter makin finger mom. I felt defeated, broken, sad, but I knew this day would come. And it did. Fist bump for the momma and out the door he went.

I watched him walk all the way down the hallway and stop at the giant sign on the wall. It said 3 + 4 with an arrow to the left and 1, 2, K with an arrow to the right. He studied the sign. He looked at his pass. Looked at the sign. And then turned to the left. I ran down the hall, got him and sent him back the right direction.

And back out the door I went. He is my little man who is growing up quickly. But not too quickly to totally not need me anymore- just not for anything like kisses in front of his buddies.

'Stay at Home Mom' is just a fancy name for 'I'm not here right now, leave a message at the tone'

2011-10-04T07:55:00.000-04:00

I absolutely love the fact that I have gotten to stay at home with my kids. Never doubt that- I speak the truth.

And I am positive that the absolute best parenting advice that was EVER given to me was when my Grandma told me that the best years of her entire life were the ones she was at home with her kids. It kind of sealed the deal for me to give up my job (and health insurance, and 401K, and dress shoes, and ever having new shoes, or a hair do......ever) and plunge into being at home.

Granted- I have worked from home. Not worked at all. And now I work part time outside the home. But still the same- I am a stay at home mom first. Because lets face it- working 12 hours a week is not really a job. Especially when I end up calling in at least 4 hours a week lately due to sick kids, family needs and good sales at Walgreens. Just sayin'.

Back to the point. When my kids were little. As in real little. There were days that we would go somewhere- just to leave the house. There were times that Dan would get home and I would be just begging for a trip to Sam's Club- just to get to visit real actual people out in the bright colorful world. Or I would BEG my mom just to stop by and visit us........because we were lonely.

Now that my kids are not so little- I'm basically wearing a path down our street. In fact, last night, on like my 6th trip in or out of the neighborhood (no joking) I found myself wondering why on earth we didn't more strongly consider buying that house right on the corner. It would have cut like 1/4 mile off my commute. And on a day like today- that could really rack up.

Listen for a minute-
Out for a doctors appointment
In for a forgotten jacket
Out for dropping Sam at school and then to work
In to beat the bus back home
Out to go to CVS to pick up Emilys new asthma meds
In to pick up Emily for piano
Out for piano
In cause we were done with piano
Actually home for a few little whiles
Out for Allyson's piano
In for forgotten music book I promised to bring back to piano teacher
Out to go back to piano
Stayed out and made Dan meet us for dinner because I just couldn't drive back home.....again
In for the night

The neighbors must think I am a pizza delivery man or something. And I'm afraid we are not even to the worst part yet. Ally really doesn't even have many actitivies- if she picks up a sport or something at school I'm doomed. Seriously, I'm thinking about buying an RV- at least then I would always kind of be at home.

Next week, Sam and Emily both have field trips. And of course I volunteered for both because HELLO- this is the icing on the cake to get to go on a field trip. I got emails back from both teachers thanking me- and telling me how much I needed to pay in order to 'volunteer'. Which I understand- but it is still kind of ironic.

Then at dinner last night- Allyson mentioned that her field trip this year is to a chocolate factory. A field trip AND chocolates? Count me in. In addition to my adiction to sugar- I simply find factories amazingly interesting. I can't wait- I even promised Allyson I would chaperone a group other than hers (because she finds me less than amazingly interesting these days). Then she mentioned that more than anything, they need chaperones on her field trips to break up the fights. FIGHTS? Looks like I might not be able to go that day after all. And she might not either.

Better run- I have to run an errand, pick Ally up at school, drop Sam off at his school, deliver Ally to an orthodontist appointment, swing by the bank, take Ally back to school, drop by the office for an hour and then go back to the elementary to volunteer at the after school party.

Stay at home mom my heiny.

Brief Updates

2011-10-03T09:10:00.000-04:00

Just a small quick update from my neck of the woods today............better postings later in the week I hope!

1. Mom had her procedure done on Thursday and did great. She is home and on the mend.
(invision my mom here healing nicely)

2. Allyson turned 12 on Saturday and there were 8 of them in our house Friday night for a sleepover. I'm still tired.

3. Emily's lungs are cloudy and basically a mess again- DARN YOU ASTHMA! Off to the doctor we go again this morning!

4. Sam had a fun day last week when his class celebrated Mr. Ff and his Funny Feet! (I love kindergarten!)

5. Holy wow batman- I suppose I had no idea my hair was THIS curly! And what a highly unflattering picture of me I might add!

That is it for today- I'm off to wash that mop of a head and take Miss Emi to the fancy pants doctor.

It is well with my soul

2011-09-28T08:28:00.000-04:00

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.

Things I need to share- not that any are blogworthy

2011-09-27T08:25:00.000-04:00

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 event.......at 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.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

2011-09-26T09:06:00.000-04:00

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............

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

2011-09-23T09:29:00.000-04:00

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.

Carmel Apple Butt Cake

2011-09-20T08:20:00.001-04:00

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!

I gots me some 'splanin to do!

2011-09-16T08:21:00.000-04:00

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 wiff.......no 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.

Dear Rosie,

2011-09-15T08:46:00.000-04:00

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.

A faux what?

2011-09-14T08:15:00.000-04:00

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.

Seeing the world

2011-09-13T08:26:00.000-04:00

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.

The reason Mondays are one of my favorites

2011-09-12T08:11:00.000-04:00

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.

I'm all for celebrating but gee whiz

2011-09-09T09:12:00.000-04:00

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.

POP QUIZ!

2011-09-07T07:59:00.001-04:00

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.

Goodbye Summer

2011-09-05T10:11:00.000-04:00

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.

Somebody help me, 'cause I don't understand

2011-09-02T13:55:00.001-04:00

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

The underground railroad for Dogs

2011-08-31T08:31:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure why, but somehow calling this dog OURS feels like we are doing something wrong.

She was running our neighborhood loose without a collar or tags, no electronic chip tracking thingy, no ads have been run in any of the newspapers that we have checked, no one has answered our ads, we've hung fliers................no one seems to be missing this dog.

And yet, here we are over a week later, and although I technically have called off the search and rescue mission............it seems like we took someone elses dog and are calling her ours.

How much dog hair do we have to accumulate in our house before I can stop feeling like a dog thief?

Our family camping trip that was a long time ago.........finally

2011-08-30T07:48:00.001-04:00

I never did post any pictures from our family camping trip the end of July. And since this sorry little blog is the closest thing to a scrap book for my children- I must now include these.

It was a nice weekend, one that I will treasure as it was nice to spend time with my family and enjoy their company, humor and wit.

Here is my brother..........eating corn.

And here is my brother and his wife.............eating corn.

Here is my sister.........not eating corn.

And here is my corn. Dang that was some good corn. It was on this trip that I discovered a hispanic seasoning called Tajin (I have no idea how it is pronounced......but it is tasty). If you have a desire for adventure, wander into a mexican grocery and try to find yourself a bottle. Of course, don't ask anyone unless you speak ACTUAL spanish, because they won't understand you.
Apparently, speaking slowly in english is not spanish.

Tajin is lime and chili pepper- says it is good for fruits and vegetables. My preference? CORN!

Here is Sam roasting a marshmallow..........which is what we ate in addition to corn. His Aunts, sisters and cousins were playing yahtzee and he took it upon himself to make them all s'mores. He would slap a marshmallow on the stick, roast it for like 3.5 seconds and pop that cold marshmallow onto a cracker with chocolate and deliver it to them. And they would argue over who ~~had~~ got to eat it. Because NOTHING is better than an ice cold s'more. Well, other than a nice toasty warm melting s'more. But those were no where to be found.

He never did get to eat his own s'more that night- he said the 'bingo' people said he had to feed them first and 'man they are some hungry people who just LOVE his smores'.

I will forever refer to my family as 'the bingo people'.

A Public Service Announcement

2011-08-27T09:30:00.000-04:00

We will now demonstrate how to not get stuck in our scary stairs and have to live there forever for the rest of your life:

First- relax. There is no need for panic.

You will be unable to pull your big giant noggin straight back through- it will not fit.

You will need to turn your head to the side and gently pull it back out.

This concludes our announcement.

You're welcome.

A strange feeling

2011-08-26T08:57:00.000-04:00

Dan's dad has been in the hospital since last Saturday. At first, they thought it was pneumonia. Then they thought it wasn't.

And then they thought it was a staph infection, and then it only grew in one of their cultures, so then they thought it wasn't. Which is good and bad- because although he doesn't have the actual Staph infection, it is there somewhere between the needle, his blood and the petry dish.

Then they worried that the cancer was ravaging his bones. But after a bone scan, they found it wasn't.

So then they worried about the tumors in his lungs, but after a CT scan, they decided they weren't the issue.

And today? They still don't have a clue. But they are sending more blood to other hospitals and calling an infectious disease doctor.

He's running a low fever off and on. His oxygen levels drop very low when he tries to move. And he feels cruddy.

And I'm afraid. I suppose it hit me yesterday that his body might not be able to fight hard enough for long enough- and what if this stupid disease wins? What if it takes away the only grandfather that my children will ever remember? What if this is the year that grief will settle back into our family? What if Lew passing was just a way for the Lord to help my children begin to understand death, because He knew that Dan's dad was going to be next? What if I never get to play cards and tease this man again? What if he never asks me if I like seafood again in my life? What if....................his end is almost here?

I have to push this from my mind. I can't handle it today. Thanks for letting me dump it all out here.

Sweets and Flowers

2011-08-25T07:57:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend, my beautiful Daisy turned into a Brownie.

It's this fancy girlscout thing where they 'bridge' up to the next level of scouts. Why on earth she became a girlscout brownie instead of a cookie is beyond me.

Either way- its a girlscout conspiracy to generate more revenue by making families buy multiple vests/sashes over the course of their lives. See- Daisys wear the blue one, the one which I have already painstakingly sewn on 247 individual patches. Brownies wear the brown one. But being a former girlscout myself, I am trickier than they are. Forgoing my original plan to just give her Allyson's brownie vest, I decided to go ahead and fork over the cold hard cash for the new vest and 23 patches that it required. But instead of hours with needle and thread? Hot Glue Gun. Worked beautifully.

And Emily didn't even know the difference.

Dog People

2011-08-23T07:41:00.000-04:00

When Lewis died, we all knew that we would get another dog. It was just a matter of when. And what kind. The possibilities were endless. Would we get another beagle? A hypoallergenic Shitzu? One of those cute little terriers? Something tiny I could put in a special purse? Something huge that could pull a sled? Endless possibilities.

None of which included this dog. This ugly ugly ugly dog. Lord help me, that is one UGLY dog.

She has been running the neighborhood for a few days. One morning she was in our back yard. I finally conceeded and told the kids to put out a bowl of water for her- in my defense it was soooo hot and she was just running around frantic and there was not a drip of water anywhere.

We had an engagement early Saturday morning and as we pulled out of the neighborhood, she was running around at the end of the street. Which meant she was moving on to wider horizons- perfect. As we got back home, Allyson said "If we see that dog again today I'm going to take it as a sign from God". I kid you not, as we rounded the corner to our home, that dog was sitting square in the middle of our front freakin' yard.

She was timid and guarded and wouldn't let anyone near her. I told the kids to leave her be and Emily and I left for a birthday party she had that afternoon.

By the time we got back, two short hours later, the dog had a name, a collar and was in our back yard playing with a tennis ball with the kids.

Shortly after she got a bath and an invitation into our house.

Although we have run ads and put up flyers and notified local vet offices, something tells me that this ugly ugly ugly dog is now a Goble. Rosie Goble.

I guess I'll never outgrow this

2011-08-18T10:34:00.000-04:00

I have never felt any more unprepared to be a parent than I do right this minute. Which confirms that being a young mom was never the problem, since I am not exactly that anymore. Although seasoned with a few extra years, I still lack the confidence and knowledge to know that I CAN successfully care for these three small beings.

I feel so very discouraged.

Reasons I love my husband

2011-08-17T07:52:00.000-04:00

Most weeks, Dan is in charge of creating the kids weekly commission charts- which is just a Dave Ramsey fancy name for chore list. This week, he hung them with electrical tape- which is a step up from Duct Tape, so I thank him for that.

Our refrigerator has this super fancy schmancy canned soda holding device. It hangs off of the bottom shelf and is a nice spot to put up to like 8 sodas and not loose a single bit of shelf room. My husband crams the sodas sideways ontop of the food and then puts his leftover restaurant take out containers in the soda holder.

Recently Dan aquired shorts as part of his work uniform. Unlike the rest of his uniforms that get sent to some magical place where they wash, mend and press them for him- these have to come home to be washed. I agreed, because I am like the most angelic perfect wife ever, to wash these for him. Afterward, I showed him where they were and asked where he would like to keep them. As in, where were they going to be stored in his closet or dresser. They haven't moved from the top of my dresser all week.

And the last one- I have not a single picture for. However, I am the balancer of our finances (Dan is the earner of our finances, so this seems fair). However, it is more often times like my own personal Easter Egg Hunt only ends with tears and arguing instead of candy filled eggs. Because Dan most generally used to (he's gotten better) not tell me when he used the debit card. Then, I would get the pleasure of logging into our account and line by line sorting through the transactions to see what all had cleared.......and what all I was missing.

One particular day I found two transactions to a grocery type store that were within pennies of each other on the same day around the same time. I had one of them entered- I had gone grocery shopping that morning. I remember because Dan was home and the kids stayed with him and I went there all alone. Which doesn't happen very often, that is why I remember it so well. So I asked him if he happened to have run to the same.exact.store while I was there and buy almost exactly what I did. He responded no.

The next week, I had to take all three kids to the bank, wait for a banker person, and fill out a form disputing the transaction. The gal said more than likely it was just an accident and they would probably re-deposit the money before the bank had to contact them. But she credited our account right then until it was settled.

A week later, they took the money right back out.

Back to the bank I went with all three kids again on a perfectly gorgeous summer day and marched right back into her office. She pulled the file, read for a long time, looked on her computer for a long time, called another gal in, re read the file, and then explained that apparently the second charge was on Dan's card at the fuel center. So it wasn't a duplicate at all.

Imagine if you will how COMPLETELY stupid I felt. And how upset I was to have wasted not ONE but TWO trips to the bank............and this poor womans time...........when Dan just 'forgot' to log a gas receipt. One that I even asked him directly about, and he still claimed ignorance.

I'm just glad that I don't have strange quirky things that I do to make him crazy.

*disclaimer: He really is a great husband- even if he misuses construction supplies and couldn't balance a checkbook on his big toe.

And then there were none

2011-08-16T08:18:00.000-04:00

After the girls buses were long gone and lunch time was looming- it was time to deliver my favorite little man for his first day of elementary.

He had a difficult time deciding which brand spankin new monster truck t-shirt and pair of stretch shorts to wear. Obviously he wouldn't do anything crazy like wear a golf shirt, because those are for church. Duh.

He was ready. I was not.

The tears started filling my eyes around 30 minutes before he was due to be dropped off and eventually couldn't be disguised by my sunglasses anymore. He asked why I was crying. I explained that I was just so happy (which was a flat out LIE).

We pulled up and I told him it was time that he could get out and without hesitation he kissed his momma, jumped out and began running with the other little boys. He didn't turn back, he didn't look over his shoulder, he was off and didn't have a care in the world.

I began counting down the time till the bus would bring them all back home.

I know my job of parenting is far from over. But I feel such a loss that it makes my eyes sting just to think about it. Because all of my children are in school now. And the pre-school years of my life is slamming shut. All done. And for a woman who spent her entire childhood looking forward to raising babies, it feels like there isn't much left to hang on to right now. Other than waiting for the bus to bring my kids back home so that I can tell them to quit fighting, touching, poking and complaining about their dinner.

I feel kind of empty.

First Day of School

2011-08-15T08:22:00.001-04:00

These are not the hard ones. (Emily- first day of Second Grade- she's seven years old)

Although I will miss them both with every ounce of my being, I have (kind of) gotten used to them being gone to school (almost).

And they are ready and excited to get back at it.

It's been a full and wonderful summer and I have so enjoyed having them here to enjoy swimming, riding bikes, lunches, picnics, playgrounds................great, now I'm tearing up.

Regardless, these two little girls are already missed- but them leaving feels normal.

I've had a day or two to get used to them leaving me for hours on end five days a week.

(Oh dear, nothing like first day of school pictures to make you realize how desperately your front door could use a cleaning) Allyson- first day of Sixth Grade- she is just 11 years old.

It's later today that is sucking the air right from my lungs. Knowing that I will have to send my very last little person to Elementary school. And knowing that for the first time in as long as I can remember I will be alone on a regular basis. Purposeless. Wandering aimlessly. Alone. It's only for a half day, and he's still my little man. I know, I know. It's just that soon it will feel as 'normal' as it does for his sisters to go away all day as it does for him. And I miss him so much already.

It seems so hard to believe that it is time already.

"Don't leave me little man, come home to your momma".

Good bye my friend, or not- whatever

2011-08-14T09:30:00.000-04:00

Ally has a dear friend that she has known since kindergarten who is moving away. Her dad has been relocated already to Massachusetts and the family initially thought they would wait here for him to finish his schooling and come back, but have since decided to go meet him there.

Ally got a call a few weeks ago from her friend that said that it was time for them to go. They were renting their house and moving before school started. Ally was of course devistated. I can't imagine the pain of having a friend, a very close friend, move far away.

So I decided that we should have a going away sleep over for she and her four close friends (this group of five girls runs around together all.the.time). A proper send off for an eleven year old young woman.

Even though I SWORE I would never host another sleepover. Ever. I decided that a group of 5 couldn't be as difficult as a group of 11 (remember the sleep over massacre of 2010?).

We lit a fire and gave the girls hot pokers so that they could roast hot dogs and I threw bags of chips and pitchers of koolaide at them from the door. And then TWO of these girls reminded me that they don't eat meat.

I fought back my initial reaction to tell them to eat a bun and some chips. Because that would be rude. Instead I went to the kitchen and cooked up some pasta with veggies and a cream sauce and then I threw that at them on the deck.

I also delivered a platter of chocolate bars, white and strawberry marshmallows and graham crackers so that they could roast smores for dessert. Because I'm a rockin hostess like that.

And they proceeded to roast them into charcoal nuggets- like all children do.

After dinner, I gave them the materials to paint a picture for Makayla to take with her. I thought she would enjoy something that they all made together to hang in her new room in New England. And then the girls started painting their hands and I declared arts and crafts time OVER and I told them all to GET LOST.

They played hide and go seek with the neighbor kids, watched movies, ate popcorn and finally around 11:30 I left them to their own devices and retreated to my room.

Not even 10 minutes later I heard a strange hush fall over the girls and one said very sternly 'Go get your mom'. In my head, I was trying to figure out which emergency room was closest. Fortunately, or not- depending on how you look at it, it was nothing life threatening. Turns out, they were all hanging in the kitchen when the 100 pound beast dog that we have been babysitting (you might want to quit reading if you have a weak stomach) (just sayin) released uncontrollable diarrhea all over the kitchen floor. Once I was on the case, they disappeared out back clutching their noses in their hands and gagging and giggling. I got the joy of cleaning that up all by myself.

By midnight I had the floor disinfected and I was back to my bed.

Fifteen minutes later I had to capture five giggling running girls in the hallway and remind them that they were to stay in the living room and GO TO SLEEP.

Dan's alarm went off for work at 4:30am, I could still hear them talking.

5:30am I stumbled my bed headed self into the living room and declared that they had to go to sleep. If only for a few hours. Moms would start picking up girls in three hours and they had to have had at least a little sleep.

And finally- they rested.

It took me all day to recover from that much chaos- but I had done my duty as a mom and given the girls a proper send off for their friend.

Their friend, who strangely enough, isn't moving right now after all. Turns out they haven't officially rented their house yet, and her mom is still looking for a job, and she's going to start school tomorrow with the girls.

I think I've been duped.

Camping #2

2011-08-11T09:21:00.001-04:00

Last Friday we journeyed deep into the woods for weekend number 2 of camping in a row. And by deep into the woods, I mean we went to a campground with bathrooms, a pool, a restaurant and electric/water sites. But the good news: this trip we fit everything into ONE vehicle! Trips prior we just gave in and drove both cars- because it takes a lot of stuff to camp ya'll. This time, we took the two middle seats out and crammed that puppy full- floor to ceiling- squished the kids in the back and took off for our drive. We could hear them- but we couldn't see them.

Half way there I rearranged some 'stuff' and made it so that they could watch a movie. Because their constant fighting/whining/bickering was wearing on me.

Each kid had a playmate during this trip- so it was totally awesome. And Sam's partner brought his own bag of wheeled awesomeness and a private play tent- so they were in complete heaven most of the time. This photo, for the record, is the only photograph taken while not riding in something. I need to work on getting the old camera out more........you know, other than when we are riding something.

Here we are on our wagon ride to the orchard

Our deluxe accomodations.......(we're the tent, our friends had the camper) (taken while riding the trolley)

And here we are on our trolley ride around the campground. It was so relaxing we went around twice, plus they were passing out free popcycles to the kids so it was doubly refreshing. I think it might be the only time during the weekend that the kids weren't asking to go to the playground.

It was a wonderful weekend with wonderful friends and many memories were made. Emily declared it the best camping EVER since no one died......like the weekend before.

I couldn't agree more.

Might I just take a moment to WHINE!

2011-08-05T08:56:00.000-04:00

I am not sure I have ever been this tired in my entire life. And I have had three babies, so that is saying something.

I am emotionally and physically worn out. Burnt at both ends. Like a one armed paper hanger. Like, like, well........I'm just tired. Too tired to think of any other terms for being just plain tuckered out.

Last night, I made a quick trip to the grocery to pick up a few items we need for camping this weekend (yes- we get to go again!) and I almost just walked out. I was right there in the soda pop aisle and I had to literally fight back the tears to keep from having a nervous breakdown right there in the store. I would have given anything for a bench, just to sit down on for a minute and have not a single solitary soul need a single solitary thing from me. I was so tired.

But none of this was an option. Because leaving all of my carefully selected goods at the grocery would just mean I'd have to go back, there was no bench and crying in the grocery store does nothing but scare people (I speak from experience).

So I kept going. I finished up my shopping, put away my groceries at home, ran a couple more loads of laundry, folded sams and put it away, made a craft with Emily and her FIRST EVER SLEEP OVER friend, played a couple games of Topple, fed them all a snack and then we rented a movie and I collapsed on the couch with my living room full of children.

And today? I still feel sooo very tired. But perhaps a weekend of family fun will do the trick. If not- there is always next week............

If I ignore it, will it go away?

2011-08-04T10:21:00.000-04:00

August 15th is looming over my head like a big bad rain cloud full of darkness.

I keep shoving it out of my mind. I won't go to the back to school section in the store. I can't buy him a backpack yet. But we have already progressed to the earlier bed time in preparation- because it's coming whether I'm ready or not.

For almost 12 years, I have not been alone. Almost at all. I've had little people with me when I shopped, worked, cooked, heck even in my bathtub with me. And the truth is, I have gotten so used to their company that the thought of being alone is scaring the heck out of me.

Last year I had to give up Emily to all day school. After all, there is no half day first grade (but don't think I didn't petition for it). I cried for WEEKS. I would hold Sam and talk about Emily. I was a mess. A hot mess. But I adjusted.............eventually.

And now I have to send Sam there. How in the heck could it have been five years already??? How is that possible? I keep thinking that if I ignore it, I will get another year with him before I have to send him. Instead of in just eleven days.

In looking for pictures of Lew, I ran across these.........

Allyson's first day of third grade. She was 9, Emi was 4 and Sam was 2. It was a typical day. Those two still in jammies wrapped up in blankies hanging outside while we waited for the bus.

Well- kind of in jammies.

Technically, these are emily's jammies (remember her swimsuit phase? it was all she wore).

Oh my.

I can feel my heart tightening.

I'm trying really hard to accept that this portion of my life is done. Coming to a close. No longer any preschoolers, no babies, no swim suit 4 year olds at the grocery, no little men with 349 cars on my deck.........just school age kids. Big bad growing up so very very fast kids.

I am a wreck. I have ALWAYS been so very thankful to get to stay home with these people. God has been so very good to us to allow this in our lives. Dan has always been so supportive. The kids tolerated their less than perfect mother. I will never never never regret getting to be home with them. Mostly because on August 15, I have to send my very last little person away to Kindergarten and I will know that I couldn't have done a single thing to make it go any slower.

But I still think a call to his preschool teacher is in order. It's not too late to hold him back another year and he could really use some more polishing on his abc's...............

Sometimes I use my blog to communicate with my husband........forgive me

2011-08-03T10:48:00.001-04:00

Dear Husband,

You think you are stealth, but you are not. See, I have three- count them t h r e e spy cameras installed all up in your business and there is nothing you can do that I won't know about.

Which means I know. Oh yeah, I totally know. Everything. Including your little trip to the automobile store this week and your shopping for a little car to get back and forth to work in. Little as in a two seater.

I'm here to tell you right this very minute that there is NO POSSIBLE WAY you are going to buy some small two seater sports car to drive while convincing me that the low gas mileage will save our financials. Because I drive a mini van with radio disney blaring from the speakers. There are chicken nuggets under the seats, crayons in the cup holders and someone wrote 'peace' in the dust across my back window. There is no way that you will be getting anything cool to drive. Gas savings or not.

Just a heads up. I'm onto you.

Sincerely,
Your way cool wife who sometimes closes her eyes and pretends shes in a convertible and hasn't picked her own radio station in YEARS

Lew

2011-08-01T09:36:00.001-04:00

Over the weekend, a very special part of our family died. Lew Lew the Wonder Dog past away while camping with us Saturday night. Instantly the loss felt so huge, so unbearable that the tears just didn't stop. Leaving that campground without him was aweful. Coming home into the house and not having him here was worse. Such a huge part of our family he was, I miss him so horribly much. We have made arrangements to have him cremated so that we can bury him here in our yard next to Daisy, our other dog who died when Emily was a baby. I want him back with us- even if it is just his remains.

He was in fact the perfect dog for our family. At the time that he came to live with us (see the picture on the bottom left) Sam was a year old and Emily was three. Allyson was finishing up Kindergarten. He was mature, not chewy, house broken and completely happy to take the back seat and sleep most of the day away. We were so very blessed to have him with us. I only wish it could have been for longer.

Thank you Lewis for sharing the last part of your life with us. I pray that you know how very much we love you, how sorry we are if you were uncomfortable when you died, and how much I wish that you could have stayed here with us for longer.

We will never ever forget you. You were the best Lew we could have every had.

Survival of the fittest

2011-07-29T10:56:00.000-04:00

Last year, my family started a new tradition. It involves sweating, eating cold meat sandwiches, swimming in a lake and random chit chat. Welcome family camping trip 2011!

Truth is, they NEED me on this trip. Who else would kill and clean their dinner? I mean, this is primitive every man for yourself kind of living. For three whole days. Do or die. They will totally be depending on my wild life survival skills. It's tough being the provider for this many people man.

I just hope that our spots are somewhere near the bath house. I'm a middle of the night pee'er and there isn't much worse than trucking across blocks of dark pavement running and crossing your legs to get to the facilities. I also hope that Dan can fit the oscillating fan in the van along with our air mattresses, lawn chairs, board games and tote full of keebler cookies and marshmallows. I also kind of hope we can put our tents in the shadow of my brothers camper. That would be delightful.

Not sure how the pioneers did it. Had to be rough trying to load those wagons........

Happy Camping!