It's been a rough couple of days. I have a really cute video of Z I want to upload, and will try to do it tomorrow, but my gracious, all I want to do today is veg. I'm emotionally drained. Sorry, I wish I was more chipper!
On an upbeat note, we attended a baptism of a little friend of Michael's on Saturday. It was precious, I think the best part was when his Grandpa (an amazing man, what little I have seen of him) answered his cell phone while speaking from the pulpit. It was the boy's aunt, calling from out west to congratulate him! I don't think I've ever seen a phone answered while speaking from the pulpit before! It was great, so great that families can stay in touch for special moments, even when miles separate them.
I'm so grateful my children have their family near, even if we haven't been well enough to visit then lately, it's good to know they are there when we need them!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Decorating Eggs... and toes!
We have invited Linda to decorate eggs with us the last couple of years, in fact the first year we did was apparently the first time she had ever done it!
This year was no different, but having had an afternoon with a houseful of kids already she didn't sound very certain she would be coming. So in the late afternoon it occurred to me to have Dustin call Uncle Kevin, and see if he and Joy might want to come decorate eggs with us, and sure enough, they did! Having company keeps Mom and Dad from yelling too much It's always nice to include extra family in our activities!
They didn't decorate any eggs, though. They were just as happy to watch Zachary, and help him a little bit!
Then Kevin thought it would be funny to paint Zachary's toenail with the egg dye. Zachary looked a bit nervous about the whole idea, and got down from his lap to show Mommy. Mommy said, "OOOHHH, did Uncle Kevin paint your toe? Isn't it pretty?" Zachary decided it was safe, and went back to Kevin to get the other 9 painted! Such a riot!
This year was no different, but having had an afternoon with a houseful of kids already she didn't sound very certain she would be coming. So in the late afternoon it occurred to me to have Dustin call Uncle Kevin, and see if he and Joy might want to come decorate eggs with us, and sure enough, they did! Having company keeps Mom and Dad from yelling too much It's always nice to include extra family in our activities!
They didn't decorate any eggs, though. They were just as happy to watch Zachary, and help him a little bit!
Then Kevin thought it would be funny to paint Zachary's toenail with the egg dye. Zachary looked a bit nervous about the whole idea, and got down from his lap to show Mommy. Mommy said, "OOOHHH, did Uncle Kevin paint your toe? Isn't it pretty?" Zachary decided it was safe, and went back to Kevin to get the other 9 painted! Such a riot!
Busy Weekend!
Saturday morning was a BUSY one! We already had plans to be up and about early (well, ok, Bill and Brian did), and when Bill looked out the window he saw that we had been EGGED. AGAIN!!
Zachary also decided the most effective way to open the plastic eggs was to throw them to the floor at full force!
Cute little plastic Easter eggs with candy in them all around the driveway. Apparently our friendly neighborhood Easter bunny felt there was too much snow for the kids to climb over to put them on the lawn! And it was chilly out, a whopping 7 degrees, so it was nice that it only took a few minutes to gather them!
Zachary also decided the most effective way to open the plastic eggs was to throw them to the floor at full force!
After claiming a bit of candy as his own, Brian went to Clinton with Daddy and Uncle Kevin to get himself a pair of steers for his 4H project. While they were gone the other kids and I went to visit my Dad for a bit, intending to come home and clean house for pictures of our anticipated Easter egg hunt. Because taking pictures is the only reason one should clean one's house.
We arrived back about the same time that they arrived back at my in-law's. The steers are only a week old, and it is still winter here to spite the calendar, and our barn not only is not winterized (on purpose) but it has our wood in it still. So Kevin said he could make room in the barn at my in-law's house.
I brought the camera up, because the only reason to buy a pair of steers is to have something new to take pictures of. And they spent an hour or so "making room" in the barn. There is now officially NO MORE ROOM in the barn! There is nothing but steers at far as the eye can see.
We arrived back about the same time that they arrived back at my in-law's. The steers are only a week old, and it is still winter here to spite the calendar, and our barn not only is not winterized (on purpose) but it has our wood in it still. So Kevin said he could make room in the barn at my in-law's house.
I brought the camera up, because the only reason to buy a pair of steers is to have something new to take pictures of. And they spent an hour or so "making room" in the barn. There is now officially NO MORE ROOM in the barn! There is nothing but steers at far as the eye can see.
I've never wanted a picture of the outside of the barn before, so please settle for this blurry one that was taken too late at night, and without flash to avoid glare. It's supposed to be a picture of the new and old tractor, but it happens to have the little bitty barn in it, too, in the back on the right.
An hour or so was spent making new stalls, and then the little critters (and I do mean LITTLE critters) were finally allowed to move in!
These are Dustin's. One of Kevin's pulling steers was asked to wait outside while the sawing and hammering was going on. This enabled Dustin's calves to wait in his stall, as theirs was revamped to make room for new friends!
What a cutie!!
Here you see Dustin's closest to the camera woman, then Brian's, and then in the back are Kevin's calves. The four big pulling steers line the opposite wall, with very little walking space left!
So, it's official, we are firmly entrenched in another year of 4H. I just hope the boys can handle it, especially Brian, he's already talking about bugs!!
Saturday night we decorated eggs, and toes, but my fingers are tired, I'll post about that later!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
I Know That My Redeemer Lives
I know that my Redeemer lives.
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead.
He lives, my ever-living Head.
He lives to bless me with his love.
He lives to plead for me above.
He lives my hungry soul to feed.
He lives to bless in time of need.
He lives to grant me rich supply.
He lives to guide me with his eye.
He lives to comfort me when faint.
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.
He lives to silence all my fears.
He lives to wipe away my tears.
He lives to calm my troubled heart.
He lives all blessings to impart.
He lives, my kind, wise heav’nly Friend.
He lives and loves me to the end.
He lives, and while he lives, I’ll sing.
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.
He lives and grants me daily breath.
He lives, and I shall conquer death.
He lives my mansion to prepare.
He lives to bring me safely there.
He lives! All glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior, still the same.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
“I know that my Redeemer lives!”
He lives! All glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior, still the same.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
“I know that my Redeemer lives!”
Text: Samuel Medley, 1738–1799. Included in the first LDS hymnbook, 1835.
Music: Lewis D. Edwards, 1858–1921
When my grandfather died in January of 1997, we were unable to bury him after the service. We buried him in April of that same year, and as I attended the graveside service, I was distraught. Until this Hymn, this beautiful song, rang forth in my ears, and I knew that it was the comfort I required. My grandfather lives, waiting to be reunited with his flesh in its perfected state. As do all of our loved ones, and will all of our loved ones, until the Savior returns again. And I know that the Savior lives, in his perfected body, resurrected and watching over us, in anticipation of His great and glorious return when Satan will be bound and have no more influence over the children of men for a thousand years. Our test and our trial will be complete, but we will not be at rest. We will be busy performing the great and glorious work of the Lord, but we will not weary in well doing, and suffer from fatigue and illness as we do now.
I love the Lord, and my testimony of this pulls me through each and every day that I endure. I only pray I can endure them more gracefully, with more love, and more strength, a better servant in the hands of the Lord.
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead.
He lives, my ever-living Head.
He lives to bless me with his love.
He lives to plead for me above.
He lives my hungry soul to feed.
He lives to bless in time of need.
He lives to grant me rich supply.
He lives to guide me with his eye.
He lives to comfort me when faint.
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.
He lives to silence all my fears.
He lives to wipe away my tears.
He lives to calm my troubled heart.
He lives all blessings to impart.
He lives, my kind, wise heav’nly Friend.
He lives and loves me to the end.
He lives, and while he lives, I’ll sing.
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.
He lives and grants me daily breath.
He lives, and I shall conquer death.
He lives my mansion to prepare.
He lives to bring me safely there.
He lives! All glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior, still the same.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
“I know that my Redeemer lives!”
He lives! All glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior, still the same.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
“I know that my Redeemer lives!”
Text: Samuel Medley, 1738–1799. Included in the first LDS hymnbook, 1835.
Music: Lewis D. Edwards, 1858–1921
When my grandfather died in January of 1997, we were unable to bury him after the service. We buried him in April of that same year, and as I attended the graveside service, I was distraught. Until this Hymn, this beautiful song, rang forth in my ears, and I knew that it was the comfort I required. My grandfather lives, waiting to be reunited with his flesh in its perfected state. As do all of our loved ones, and will all of our loved ones, until the Savior returns again. And I know that the Savior lives, in his perfected body, resurrected and watching over us, in anticipation of His great and glorious return when Satan will be bound and have no more influence over the children of men for a thousand years. Our test and our trial will be complete, but we will not be at rest. We will be busy performing the great and glorious work of the Lord, but we will not weary in well doing, and suffer from fatigue and illness as we do now.
I love the Lord, and my testimony of this pulls me through each and every day that I endure. I only pray I can endure them more gracefully, with more love, and more strength, a better servant in the hands of the Lord.
An expounding of my former Epiphany
I recently posted about a mama duck.
Well, yesterday I thought about that. A lot. I have a 2 year old who is just coming down from his asthma attack. His asthma affects him by making it difficult for him to shake the congestion that accompanies a cold, his nose stays runny and he coughs longer than most do. This obviously makes sleep difficult, and when he is sick he is known to spend numerous nights being rocked to get to sleep, or even sleeping in our bed.
Which means that when he recovers he thinks he should continue to be treated in such a manner.
Because he is 2.
And the youngest.
And the last one.
So, nap times are eased back into, with a couple of laying down on the couch, maybe a fall asleep in the car, and then eventually he is made to lay in his bed, and I sit on his brother's bed in the same room. I promise to stay as long as he lays still. If he plays or wiggles around, I threaten to leave the room, and he cries.
When I want to leave the house and need him to put on his coat, I sometimes threaten to leave without him and he comes running.
I used to do that with Dustin. He's 11 now, almost 12.
And I am reaching a point where the tide will turn. I have spent years using the fact that my children love me and see me as protection and safety to my advantage. Slowly I move away from them, strategically testing the waters and limits. When we go shopping I want them to feel safe 2 or 3 feet away as a 2 year old, and maybe 10 feet away when they are 8.
It's all about to change. I am now the one who is scared, scared that they will move too far away from me. I want them to be productive, to be responsible adults, homes and families of their own. But I don't want them to move too far, and leave me.
Well, yesterday I thought about that. A lot. I have a 2 year old who is just coming down from his asthma attack. His asthma affects him by making it difficult for him to shake the congestion that accompanies a cold, his nose stays runny and he coughs longer than most do. This obviously makes sleep difficult, and when he is sick he is known to spend numerous nights being rocked to get to sleep, or even sleeping in our bed.
Which means that when he recovers he thinks he should continue to be treated in such a manner.
Because he is 2.
And the youngest.
And the last one.
So, nap times are eased back into, with a couple of laying down on the couch, maybe a fall asleep in the car, and then eventually he is made to lay in his bed, and I sit on his brother's bed in the same room. I promise to stay as long as he lays still. If he plays or wiggles around, I threaten to leave the room, and he cries.
When I want to leave the house and need him to put on his coat, I sometimes threaten to leave without him and he comes running.
I used to do that with Dustin. He's 11 now, almost 12.
And I am reaching a point where the tide will turn. I have spent years using the fact that my children love me and see me as protection and safety to my advantage. Slowly I move away from them, strategically testing the waters and limits. When we go shopping I want them to feel safe 2 or 3 feet away as a 2 year old, and maybe 10 feet away when they are 8.
It's all about to change. I am now the one who is scared, scared that they will move too far away from me. I want them to be productive, to be responsible adults, homes and families of their own. But I don't want them to move too far, and leave me.
Friday, March 21, 2008
So much to blog, So little time.
Well, there will be no pictures of my kitchen.
Why? you ask. Go ahead, you know you want to.
Because thieves infiltrated my life.
No, we weren't robbed, officially. Some creep decided to steal a bunch of information from our local grocery store chain's computers, and they have 4.2 million credit and debit card numbers. And they are using them illegally. They had 4 of mine.
One was a Discover card, and from what I hear Discover is working on it. They contacted me and now the account is closed (it actually got used to buy gas in Georgia!!) and a new account number is being assigned.
Then we have 3 debit cards. Yeah, well, we actually HAVE eight, four normal sized and four key chain ones with the same numbers as the regular size. Don't judge me. We have 2 checking accounts (because I'm so organized. cough.) and there are two of us, so multiply or add 2 and 2 make 4.
"But what about the kitchen?!?!" you scream.
Right, well, because I needed to replace my cards, and wasn't going to wait indefinitely for them to arrive in the mail while millions of other people wait indefinitely for THEIRS to come in the mail, I went to my Credit Union.
'Cuz I am a debit card addict. I know, I had to go without one before, and it's not pretty.
And my credit union mailed me a letter saying if I come in to the building they can replace it, for free, right then and there.
So, I drive down to my credit union. At 10 am, thinking slow time of morning. The parking lot is unusually full, and I think, "OK, not such a slow time. But really, how bad can it be? And I want my card. Now."
So I unbuckle the 2 year old. That's right, I have a 2 year old attached at the hip (I wish, then he wouldn't run away) where ever I travel. And I enter the Credit Union, am asked if I want to wait in line for a card, and my name is put on the list and I'm guided to a waiting room. One of three waiting rooms. One of three FULL waiting rooms.
Turns out, my Credit Union mailed a similar letter to almost everyone else that uses it. This grocery store is less then a mile from where the Credit Union is.
So, the 2 year old is handed a coloring book and a pack of crayons with 6 of the cutest little crayons in it, and we sit.
I knew it was bad when I noticed the little water bottles being given away for free. We were in for it.
TWO HOURS LATER my name was called. That's right, I went up to make sure we were on the list only once, after everyone in the room I was in had walked in after me and several more names had been called. I have to say, though, it could have been so much worse. I heard the woman taking names tell someone that the man that kept coming and going was handling anyone who was really angry and irate. All we had in our area were people who, while not happy about it, knew that yelling wasn't going to get us anywhere. So we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
One lady came up to me and offered me a Very Hungry Caterpillar book to borrow to read to Zachary. That ate ten minutes.
They had a big plastic school bus, and a few other toys that interested Zachary here and there. And of course the color book. And climbing on his chair. All in all, he was really good. Although he did throw the bus at one point, but we were well into our second hour, and frankly I think I might have been benefited from throwing a bus at that point.
But it's done. I never got to Walmart, but I told Bill that since I replaced his card for him too, he owed me two hours of shopping at Walmart tonight. Alone.
That might almost be worth it. Almost.
Would someone please tell the person who stole the numbers that no one is impressed?
Why? you ask. Go ahead, you know you want to.
Because thieves infiltrated my life.
No, we weren't robbed, officially. Some creep decided to steal a bunch of information from our local grocery store chain's computers, and they have 4.2 million credit and debit card numbers. And they are using them illegally. They had 4 of mine.
One was a Discover card, and from what I hear Discover is working on it. They contacted me and now the account is closed (it actually got used to buy gas in Georgia!!) and a new account number is being assigned.
Then we have 3 debit cards. Yeah, well, we actually HAVE eight, four normal sized and four key chain ones with the same numbers as the regular size. Don't judge me. We have 2 checking accounts (because I'm so organized. cough.) and there are two of us, so multiply or add 2 and 2 make 4.
"But what about the kitchen?!?!" you scream.
Right, well, because I needed to replace my cards, and wasn't going to wait indefinitely for them to arrive in the mail while millions of other people wait indefinitely for THEIRS to come in the mail, I went to my Credit Union.
'Cuz I am a debit card addict. I know, I had to go without one before, and it's not pretty.
And my credit union mailed me a letter saying if I come in to the building they can replace it, for free, right then and there.
So, I drive down to my credit union. At 10 am, thinking slow time of morning. The parking lot is unusually full, and I think, "OK, not such a slow time. But really, how bad can it be? And I want my card. Now."
So I unbuckle the 2 year old. That's right, I have a 2 year old attached at the hip (I wish, then he wouldn't run away) where ever I travel. And I enter the Credit Union, am asked if I want to wait in line for a card, and my name is put on the list and I'm guided to a waiting room. One of three waiting rooms. One of three FULL waiting rooms.
Turns out, my Credit Union mailed a similar letter to almost everyone else that uses it. This grocery store is less then a mile from where the Credit Union is.
So, the 2 year old is handed a coloring book and a pack of crayons with 6 of the cutest little crayons in it, and we sit.
I knew it was bad when I noticed the little water bottles being given away for free. We were in for it.
TWO HOURS LATER my name was called. That's right, I went up to make sure we were on the list only once, after everyone in the room I was in had walked in after me and several more names had been called. I have to say, though, it could have been so much worse. I heard the woman taking names tell someone that the man that kept coming and going was handling anyone who was really angry and irate. All we had in our area were people who, while not happy about it, knew that yelling wasn't going to get us anywhere. So we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
One lady came up to me and offered me a Very Hungry Caterpillar book to borrow to read to Zachary. That ate ten minutes.
They had a big plastic school bus, and a few other toys that interested Zachary here and there. And of course the color book. And climbing on his chair. All in all, he was really good. Although he did throw the bus at one point, but we were well into our second hour, and frankly I think I might have been benefited from throwing a bus at that point.
But it's done. I never got to Walmart, but I told Bill that since I replaced his card for him too, he owed me two hours of shopping at Walmart tonight. Alone.
That might almost be worth it. Almost.
Would someone please tell the person who stole the numbers that no one is impressed?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
WARNING **GROUCHY**
Life would be easier if kids came with instructions.
I had a very productive day. I mean PRO.DUC.TIVE.
I decided last night I wanted to clean house today. Very unlike me, I know, but it does happen, and with all my illness I've had lots of opportunity to stare at what needs doing, unable to function well enough to do it. I decided to start in the dining room, because unlike the kitchen and living room it is further from the door and therefore harder to dump your crap there stays clean a bit longer.
I cleaned off the top of my china closet. My husband puts things there. I never put things there. When I can't find the phone, 9 times out of 10 it's there. Along with pliers, scissors, screws, tape, papers, nuts, Legos, and a whole lotta dust.
'Cuz I don't dust.
So I put away all that stuff. Well, most of that stuff, and what I can't recognize is set aside for him.
I then dusted the top of it. Then the sides. Then (brace yourselves) I washed the glass. It's beautiful. I mean really pretty. It keeps dust out well, in spite of it's unfortunate need of repair a few years back, so I don't have to dust all the junk things inside. I washed the two things I left on top.
It gleams and sparkles and stuff.
I swapped a load of laundry.
I vacuumed around and under it. My vac doesn't really fit under it, maybe Fiddle Dee Dee's son has one that would, but I used the hand thing to get the dust bunnies cause my dining room is carpeted though with four boys that's just gross.
Anyway, then I proceeded to vacuum to where the desk is in the next corner. I cleared and dusted it. Then I stacked all my friend's scrapbook stuff on it to vacuum the next area. I cleaned the things off the little kiddie table that I don't really have room for but my kids and I still like so we keep it. I put away papers from the windowsill
on the next wall that is about a foot deep and collects things. And some covers. Lids to plastic bins that I buy so I can be organized. Yeah.
I swapped the laundry, again.
Then I vacuumed more. Then I cleaned off the Monitor heater that you should never set things on, (we aren't using it this year, so of course, it collected things) and the pile of clothes that needed to be sorted by size and filed away in closets for summer and for the next kids to grow into. Then I cleaned off the bureau on the wall opposite the china closet. Which translates to I put away my nativity set. Yeah, I know.
More vacuuming, under the table as well, and then I came to the washer and dryer. Oh, my Internet friends, if you only knew. But I wasn't about to take before pictures. Now, it's this:
which is nice. That's laundry hanging above the appliances. Because the appliances were bought when Child One was 3 months old, and the poor dryer can't handle four boys.
Did you know that letting your 2 year old first child sit on top of the dryer when they brush their teeth 'cuz the dryer is in the bathroom back then and they can't run and squirm away might mean he will knock over a can of shaving cream 'cuz there's no counter near that sink to put it on and that then the shaving cream might leak on said dryer and you will be left with rusty peeled paint spots for the next 10+ years? Yeah, me neither.
Then I swapped the laundry.
Ok, so, from the dryer I put away cards. Two cards to one game, 20 or so go fish cards, a handful of War cards... yeah. And everything that comes out of my 11 year-old's pockets. And my husband's receipts. And threw out more nails and screws and stuff. And toys. Little crap ones that teachers give out as rewards 'cuz they can't afford real ones 'cuz no one pays them enough.
And then my kids were home. And cranky. And now, It's 4:44, I sit here, and blog to you, in a very. bad. mood.
Because I have a wonderful, clean room, that took me all day, and no one will appreciate it. Instead they will gripe, groan, and moan, and I will reprimand, and threaten time outs, and try to wrap my brain around why sometimes, they just can't be nice to each other. Or me.
*sigh*
Tomorrow, I tackle the kitchen.
Please. help. me.
I had a very productive day. I mean PRO.DUC.TIVE.
I decided last night I wanted to clean house today. Very unlike me, I know, but it does happen, and with all my illness I've had lots of opportunity to stare at what needs doing, unable to function well enough to do it. I decided to start in the dining room, because unlike the kitchen and living room it is further from the door and therefore harder to dump your crap there stays clean a bit longer.
I cleaned off the top of my china closet. My husband puts things there. I never put things there. When I can't find the phone, 9 times out of 10 it's there. Along with pliers, scissors, screws, tape, papers, nuts, Legos, and a whole lotta dust.
'Cuz I don't dust.
So I put away all that stuff. Well, most of that stuff, and what I can't recognize is set aside for him.
I then dusted the top of it. Then the sides. Then (brace yourselves) I washed the glass. It's beautiful. I mean really pretty. It keeps dust out well, in spite of it's unfortunate need of repair a few years back, so I don't have to dust all the junk things inside. I washed the two things I left on top.
It gleams and sparkles and stuff.I swapped a load of laundry.
I vacuumed around and under it. My vac doesn't really fit under it, maybe Fiddle Dee Dee's son has one that would, but I used the hand thing to get the dust bunnies cause my dining room is carpeted though with four boys that's just gross.
Anyway, then I proceeded to vacuum to where the desk is in the next corner. I cleared and dusted it. Then I stacked all my friend's scrapbook stuff on it to vacuum the next area. I cleaned the things off the little kiddie table that I don't really have room for but my kids and I still like so we keep it. I put away papers from the windowsill
on the next wall that is about a foot deep and collects things. And some covers. Lids to plastic bins that I buy so I can be organized. Yeah.
I swapped the laundry, again.
Then I vacuumed more. Then I cleaned off the Monitor heater that you should never set things on, (we aren't using it this year, so of course, it collected things) and the pile of clothes that needed to be sorted by size and filed away in closets for summer and for the next kids to grow into. Then I cleaned off the bureau on the wall opposite the china closet. Which translates to I put away my nativity set. Yeah, I know.
More vacuuming, under the table as well, and then I came to the washer and dryer. Oh, my Internet friends, if you only knew. But I wasn't about to take before pictures. Now, it's this:
which is nice. That's laundry hanging above the appliances. Because the appliances were bought when Child One was 3 months old, and the poor dryer can't handle four boys.
Did you know that letting your 2 year old first child sit on top of the dryer when they brush their teeth 'cuz the dryer is in the bathroom back then and they can't run and squirm away might mean he will knock over a can of shaving cream 'cuz there's no counter near that sink to put it on and that then the shaving cream might leak on said dryer and you will be left with rusty peeled paint spots for the next 10+ years? Yeah, me neither.
Then I swapped the laundry.
Ok, so, from the dryer I put away cards. Two cards to one game, 20 or so go fish cards, a handful of War cards... yeah. And everything that comes out of my 11 year-old's pockets. And my husband's receipts. And threw out more nails and screws and stuff. And toys. Little crap ones that teachers give out as rewards 'cuz they can't afford real ones 'cuz no one pays them enough.
And then my kids were home. And cranky. And now, It's 4:44, I sit here, and blog to you, in a very. bad. mood.
Because I have a wonderful, clean room, that took me all day, and no one will appreciate it. Instead they will gripe, groan, and moan, and I will reprimand, and threaten time outs, and try to wrap my brain around why sometimes, they just can't be nice to each other. Or me.
*sigh*
Tomorrow, I tackle the kitchen.
Please. help. me.
And Ashleigh thought I was kidding...
Last Tuesday I woke up late (God bless Daylight Savings). When I finally shoved got the boys out the door, I called Melissa to see if she wanted to ride to Wally World with me.
She was getting out of the shower, and would call back. To avoid being in the shower when she called back, I figured I should do something productive while I wait. Then I thought "Nah..." So I turned on the computer to catch up on blogs.
Poor, sweet, Ashleigh. She has a daughter with spunk. Dustin never had it, nor Michael. But Brian and Zachary... Well... let's just say they're full of it.
I won't go into detail about Olivia, you can just click on Ansen and Ashleigh's link to the right for a detailed post about that! But I commented to Ashleigh that I'm so sorry, and commisserated how frustrating it is when you can't get one mess cleaned up without them making another while you're scrubbing the first. Then I told her I would let her know, on my blog, what exactly Z had been up to while I read her blog.
Sure enough, as I left the computer chair I heard, "I clean it up, Mommy."
Walk through the doorway, and I found a scene, much like this:
Unfortunately I had instinctively insisted he hand me the hand cream bottle, so I then had to recreate the scene to get the photo. I'm not sure posing him wiping up the hand-cream he slopped everywhere and then taking his picture really gets the disciplinary message across properly.
Ah well.
Then I spoke to Melissa, took my shower, and found this:
Don't judge me. My shower was less than 5 minutes, and I've given up on scolding them for putting stuff in their mouths. I do still scold against marbles and bouncy balls (they don't squish and are dangerously round), but my brother chewed on toys, I chewed on toys, my boys have all done it, and no one has choked, so frankly, I give up.
Brian is now (at 9) my child who tries the hardest to stay out of trouble, and in my good graces. I have hope for a light at the end of the tunnel.
Lucky for Zachary he's adorable! And I forgot to hit publish on this post for 9 whole days!!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Down for the count...
again. I've been sick, arguably still am judging by the exhaustion in my muscles and half a stuffy nose. But you can't keep a good man down. Or me, apparently.
So, I left off in a bit of a mood apparently. Well, it may not be much better, round 6, yes SIX of down for the count will do that to anyone. But I wanted to share with you a poem I revere keep on my fridge. I keep it because it can make me laugh, and cry, and laugh so hard I cry. I wish the author was known, I would love to thank her.
So, I left off in a bit of a mood apparently. Well, it may not be much better, round 6, yes SIX of down for the count will do that to anyone. But I wanted to share with you a poem I revere keep on my fridge. I keep it because it can make me laugh, and cry, and laugh so hard I cry. I wish the author was known, I would love to thank her.
A Mother's Prayer
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I'm pretty sure I'll lose my mind.
I pray I find a little quiet
far from the daily family riot.
May I lie back-- not have to think
about what they're stuffing down the sink,
or who they're with or wher they're at
and what they're doing to the cat.
I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off a shelf?)
to cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(oh no, another goldfish--dead!)
Some silent moments for goodness sake
(did I just hear a window break?)
and that I need not cook or clean
(well heck, I've got the right to dream).
Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep.
But as I look around, I know
I must have lost them long ago!
Now, I love my children. I'm grateful they are busy, grateful there are 4 of them, and grateful they are strong, healthy, smart, interesting and exciting! I do not often wish for quiet, because I know, perhaps too well, that the day will come when they are gone from my home, and things will be more quiet than I ever could enjoy. That is why I laugh. and cry. and keep going.
Friday, March 14, 2008
The Curse of the Stay at Home Mom...
Didn't know we were cursed, did you? Well, call it a curse or a blessing, the title depends on the day and the mood around the house.
There is a common misconception among children of the Stay at Home Mother. That misconception is, that "Daddy is the axis that the whole world rotates on."
Don't get me wrong, I like Daddy. If I didn't like Daddy, there would be no children, therefore no SAHM title. But sometimes, the irrational level of idolization that is given to the position of father is a bit much to take.
As the SAHM, you are always there, wiping noses, encouraging homework (or schooling), getting the rooms cleaned, keeping the laundry done, making sure they are fed and out the door when necessary. You kiss the boo boos, make a last minute batch of muffins when there's no snack for school, buy the cereal they want, pay the mortgage so there's a roof over their head. You drive them to soccer, baseball, swim lessons, friends' houses, Lego League, and pick them up after open gym at 4. You keep the iPod charged, download the new music, find the right channel at the right time for Dora, and email the teachers to let them know the major events in their lives, of which there are too many.
You do all of this, while Dad is gone making the living. And Dad's job is not cushy, at least not at our house, he is often knee deep in water in a ditch, or out in the driving snow. He has customers whose houses are so nasty he immediately gets in the shower from walking in the door. He has the occasional mistake that eats him up inside, and the mistakes of others to clean up after. And it takes at least 50 hours of his week. I am not implying his job is easier or harder, it is only different.
But the children don't think about that. They just know he is gone (and needs to be), and that mean mommy is making them work, and not giving them extra cookies. She is resposible for those horrid naps, and if only Daddy could hear me cry out for him, he would come running and snuggle me to sleep in front of NASCAR.
So the moment there is a problem, nay, a qualm that they don't care for how Mommy is handling, They scream for Daddy.
"Daddy won't make me nap."
"Daddy won't make me eat my sandwich."
"Dad won't make me clean my room."
"Dad won't make me fold laundry."
"Dad will let me jump off the roof." (into the seven foot high snowbanking)
"Dad gets me toast when I'm sick."
Not necessarily all of it is true. But Dad isn't there to confirm it, and so Moms are left fighting the ideal.
There is a benefit to all of this, though. You see, when Dad comes home from his long day of work, they run to him, cling to him, and Mommy....
Gets a moment to breathe.
I'm not looking for any "Appreciate what you have..." Because I really do try to, all the time. But an Amen from those who know of what I speak, that would be nice.
There is a common misconception among children of the Stay at Home Mother. That misconception is, that "Daddy is the axis that the whole world rotates on."
Don't get me wrong, I like Daddy. If I didn't like Daddy, there would be no children, therefore no SAHM title. But sometimes, the irrational level of idolization that is given to the position of father is a bit much to take.
As the SAHM, you are always there, wiping noses, encouraging homework (or schooling), getting the rooms cleaned, keeping the laundry done, making sure they are fed and out the door when necessary. You kiss the boo boos, make a last minute batch of muffins when there's no snack for school, buy the cereal they want, pay the mortgage so there's a roof over their head. You drive them to soccer, baseball, swim lessons, friends' houses, Lego League, and pick them up after open gym at 4. You keep the iPod charged, download the new music, find the right channel at the right time for Dora, and email the teachers to let them know the major events in their lives, of which there are too many.
You do all of this, while Dad is gone making the living. And Dad's job is not cushy, at least not at our house, he is often knee deep in water in a ditch, or out in the driving snow. He has customers whose houses are so nasty he immediately gets in the shower from walking in the door. He has the occasional mistake that eats him up inside, and the mistakes of others to clean up after. And it takes at least 50 hours of his week. I am not implying his job is easier or harder, it is only different.
But the children don't think about that. They just know he is gone (and needs to be), and that mean mommy is making them work, and not giving them extra cookies. She is resposible for those horrid naps, and if only Daddy could hear me cry out for him, he would come running and snuggle me to sleep in front of NASCAR.
So the moment there is a problem, nay, a qualm that they don't care for how Mommy is handling, They scream for Daddy.
"Daddy won't make me nap."
"Daddy won't make me eat my sandwich."
"Dad won't make me clean my room."
"Dad won't make me fold laundry."
"Dad will let me jump off the roof." (into the seven foot high snowbanking)
"Dad gets me toast when I'm sick."
Not necessarily all of it is true. But Dad isn't there to confirm it, and so Moms are left fighting the ideal.
There is a benefit to all of this, though. You see, when Dad comes home from his long day of work, they run to him, cling to him, and Mommy....
Gets a moment to breathe.
I'm not looking for any "Appreciate what you have..." Because I really do try to, all the time. But an Amen from those who know of what I speak, that would be nice.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wanted to share something cool!
**edited to add**
I just looked back, and my last 3 posts were about stuff on the internet! I'm going to go get a life, and then I'll be back to share it with you!!
Well, I'm not feeling a huge desire to post today. At least not yet. But I got an email from our beloved Mr. Taylor with a link, and at the end of that link is a display of pure genius!
For Dustin's Lego League (Mr. Taylor is their coach) they use the Lego NXT Mindstorm kits, they retail for, well a lot of money.
Apparently some college kids with too much time on their hands and no desire to drink or do drugs decided to solve the Rubik's cube. With a robot. Un.real.
http://tiltedtwister.com/
Scroll down to see a video of the thing in action. It's worth the couple of minutes!
I just looked back, and my last 3 posts were about stuff on the internet! I'm going to go get a life, and then I'll be back to share it with you!!
Well, I'm not feeling a huge desire to post today. At least not yet. But I got an email from our beloved Mr. Taylor with a link, and at the end of that link is a display of pure genius!
For Dustin's Lego League (Mr. Taylor is their coach) they use the Lego NXT Mindstorm kits, they retail for, well a lot of money.
Apparently some college kids with too much time on their hands and no desire to drink or do drugs decided to solve the Rubik's cube. With a robot. Un.real.
http://tiltedtwister.com/
Scroll down to see a video of the thing in action. It's worth the couple of minutes!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
I Tried This and said, "Whoa..."
Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence |
 You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convincing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator. |
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Welcome to my Party!!
I'm a little nervous, I'm not exactly a "party animal"! But every now and then I need to step out of my comfort zone and stretch myself just a tad!
This is where I sit and spend time talking to you all, instead of keeping a clean house. I'm a SAHM, but until my 2 yo is in school I figure I have a good enough excuse! ;-)
I like to take pictures, I'm not great at it, but I scrapbook them as well. Scrapbooking changed how I take my puictures, blogging has changed how I live my life. For example, when I do things like go to Cumby's to get this:
my only real vice, fountain soda Diet Pepsi. I'm a connoisseur!
he's eleven, and just said he didn't want to smile 'cuz he's mad at his brother. I asked him if he still loved his mother, and this is what we got! He's laying in his bed, a loft bed with a desk that my husband made out of PVC pipe and painted black. It's pretty cool!
he's nine, and was very intently watching TV. NOT a social butterfly! (takes after his mom) 
he's seven, and always so happy to perform! Seven is a good age. I like it, he doesn't. He might if he didn't have two older brothers who can "do everything"! He likes to pose for the camera, but I refuse to post on the internet the picture he wanted me to take... his behind! Pants on, of course, just being silly.
he's the 2 yo, and likes to play shy! He was planned, but only after much thought and prayer. An awful pregnancy resulted in a child like no other, he radiates love and happiness and it bounces back from everyone around him. I worry he will end up spoiled, but we just can't help ourselves!
Cute, huh? I think so. I recently told him we don't spend enough time together, between church responsibilities, friend needs, children, the fire department, and the extended family we never see anymore. He promised me we would spend all kinds of time together in the eternities. Sweet.
Well, here at Between You Me and the Fencepost we tend to be awfully busy, but every now and then we run out of excuses to avoid doing the laundry! Boy do we have laundry, 4 boys and a husband with a pretty messy job outside (think layers in the winter) create a TON of laundry:
This is where I sit and spend time talking to you all, instead of keeping a clean house. I'm a SAHM, but until my 2 yo is in school I figure I have a good enough excuse! ;-)
I like to take pictures, I'm not great at it, but I scrapbook them as well. Scrapbooking changed how I take my puictures, blogging has changed how I live my life. For example, when I do things like go to Cumby's to get this:
my only real vice, fountain soda Diet Pepsi. I'm a connoisseur!
Let's check in on the boys, they're so cute, they don't even know they are at a party!
Here is child one:
he's eleven, and just said he didn't want to smile 'cuz he's mad at his brother. I asked him if he still loved his mother, and this is what we got! He's laying in his bed, a loft bed with a desk that my husband made out of PVC pipe and painted black. It's pretty cool!
and child two:
he's nine, and was very intently watching TV. NOT a social butterfly! (takes after his mom)
and child three:
he's seven, and always so happy to perform! Seven is a good age. I like it, he doesn't. He might if he didn't have two older brothers who can "do everything"! He likes to pose for the camera, but I refuse to post on the internet the picture he wanted me to take... his behind! Pants on, of course, just being silly.
Please excuse the mess, like I said, I avoid cleaning! No, that is not a Christmas decoration on my wall in March. Oh, ok, it is, sue me!
and child four:
he's the 2 yo, and likes to play shy! He was planned, but only after much thought and prayer. An awful pregnancy resulted in a child like no other, he radiates love and happiness and it bounces back from everyone around him. I worry he will end up spoiled, but we just can't help ourselves!
He's wearing a Fire Dept T-Shirt. The love of my life is on our town's volunteer department, and he and his fellow firefighters are idolized by my children. Usually they merit the adoration!
The couch he's on was a hand-me-down. Ok, ALL our living room furniture is second hand, from family. The couch I would have refused, it really is UGLY. But, after that last pregnancy I developed a severe hatred of our other couch due to the extensive amount of time I spent on it. And this one is a sleeper sofa, and little did we know we would be having angels sleep on it on a regular basis.
The angels? Right, they are brother and sister to another little girl, who has cancer. They are my very dear friend Melissa's children, and have spent A LOT of nights asleep on that couch! We try not to write too much about them, just when they really are here a lot. Cancer is a very sad topic, but we do address it every now and then (see Post #50 in the archives), as it is prevalent in our lives.
Oh, and of course, the Love of My Life, husband of 12+ years, and father of all my children (that always floors them at school!!):
Cute, huh? I think so. I recently told him we don't spend enough time together, between church responsibilities, friend needs, children, the fire department, and the extended family we never see anymore. He promised me we would spend all kinds of time together in the eternities. Sweet.
Child four is the only one not in need of a haircut. I gave him one a few days ago, I haven't got to the rest, including Love of My Life!
the view from my dining room.
We live up North, and are ready to be done with the snow! Bring on the flooding spring!
Well, I'm glad you stopped by, and look forward to maybe seeing you again soon! Also, I'd love to check out your blog if you have one!
Stay warm! Unless you live in Texas, and then I guess it's stay cool?
Stay warm! Unless you live in Texas, and then I guess it's stay cool?
OH YEAH!!! ME!!! Silly goose that I am!
Here I am at a family cookout with the Love of My Life:
Ok, time to go meet all of you! Thanks again for stopping by, and drive safe!
Blogger was BROKEN!!!
It had me stressed right out. I mean, I tried to post Josiah's comment (very funny, by the way), and I got an error. I tried to get to my dashboard and report the error, receiving ANOTHER error. I tried to go to blogger's site to report both errors, terrified I'd been hit by a SPLOGGER, only to receive a THIRD error!!
*Don't laugh, just ask Lindsay*
*shudder*
But then I tried to read other blogger blogs that are normally just fine, and THEY weren't working either, I got the THIRD error again, and, well, that was only slightly settling.
I was going to blog the story of our cat, but frankly, I think I need to lie down. That hour of my life may have taken off five years!
*Don't laugh, just ask Lindsay*
*shudder*
But then I tried to read other blogger blogs that are normally just fine, and THEY weren't working either, I got the THIRD error again, and, well, that was only slightly settling.
I was going to blog the story of our cat, but frankly, I think I need to lie down. That hour of my life may have taken off five years!
Thursday, March 6, 2008
***WARNING***
I HAVE to share this with you. I mean I HAVE to, can't help myself, I am COMPELLED.
First I will tell you the source: http://www.fiddledeedee.net/. She's a blog I just found, and when you find a good blog, no swearing, funny content, a mom with similar crap and a great way of telling it, you have to read back a little. It helps to give a sense of what the person is really like. So this blog, the name is It Coulda' Been Worse, is pretty funny. I read back to Valentine's Day, and laughed my butt off at a story she tells. Someone else's story, second time she told it, doesn't know the man's name (he probably refuses to reveal it), but oh.my.goodness. I had to LITERALLY walk away from the computer TWICE because it.hurt.to.laugh.SO.much!!
If you've had more than two children, go pee before you read this. Go ahead, we'll wait. Heck, if you haven't peed in the last half hour, go, then come back, and without food or drink in your mouth (choking hazzard) I dare you to read this and not laugh. Loudly. If you are at work, and laughing loudly at something on my blog would be frowned upon, go home and read it there. But you MUST read it. Seriously!
The Perfect Gift
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this :
“Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety….
WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
Awesome!!!
Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Betty what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.
Was I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5″ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, “no possible way!” What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best…
I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, “don’t do it master,” reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad.. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!!!
I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, “do it again, do it again!”
Note: If you ever feel compelled to “mug” yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative.
SON-OF-A-… that hurt like …..!!! A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I’m still looking for my testicles. I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return.”
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!
First I will tell you the source: http://www.fiddledeedee.net/. She's a blog I just found, and when you find a good blog, no swearing, funny content, a mom with similar crap and a great way of telling it, you have to read back a little. It helps to give a sense of what the person is really like. So this blog, the name is It Coulda' Been Worse, is pretty funny. I read back to Valentine's Day, and laughed my butt off at a story she tells. Someone else's story, second time she told it, doesn't know the man's name (he probably refuses to reveal it), but oh.my.goodness. I had to LITERALLY walk away from the computer TWICE because it.hurt.to.laugh.SO.much!!
If you've had more than two children, go pee before you read this. Go ahead, we'll wait. Heck, if you haven't peed in the last half hour, go, then come back, and without food or drink in your mouth (choking hazzard) I dare you to read this and not laugh. Loudly. If you are at work, and laughing loudly at something on my blog would be frowned upon, go home and read it there. But you MUST read it. Seriously!
The Perfect Gift
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this :
“Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety….
WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
Awesome!!!
Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Betty what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.
Was I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5″ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, “no possible way!” What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best…
I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, “don’t do it master,” reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad.. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!!!
I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, “do it again, do it again!”
Note: If you ever feel compelled to “mug” yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative.
SON-OF-A-… that hurt like …..!!! A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I’m still looking for my testicles. I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return.”
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!
I Hate LOVE Noggin...
I do, I really do. Because I am a horrible, hateful, terrible reasonably good mom. You see, Noggin is like Preschool on TV, only more expensive cheaper, because it comes with the satellite service that we can't live without because of Noggin already get anyway. Really. Ok, my husband also couldn't live without Speed now that he's addicted. The Speed Channel, not the street slang for drugs.
OK, so before I dig THAT hole deeper...
I see myself as a pretty good mom. My kids are healthy, I control their portions, I monitor and encourage who their friends are, I cope with their sports encourage them to be physically active, I even send them to heck on Earth public school to co-mingulate with their peers. I don't really think that's a word, but you get the idea.
Anyway, I do occasionally need time to read blogs, write my blog, and stare for hours on end at the computer myself, to preserve some level of sanity. Which is where Noggin comes in. Or at least, they used to.
It seems like every time I find something that works, someone has to go and ruin fix it. Case in point, just as Z was deciding Max and Ruby were as interesting as Dora (he is a selective TV viewer) the darn station went and did away with both of them. It used to be that Noggin was on all day at our house, in hopes of distracting the child from coloring on the walls for background noise, and here and there my little angel would happen on a program of interest to him. Like Dora the Explorer. And then Max and Ruby. And interspersed throughout my day would be entire 25 minute segments where I didn't have to worry about markers, paint, play dough, Kool-Aid pitcher dumping my sweet, darling little boy, and I could, oh, take a SHOWER, or close my eyes for longer than a blink.
Then came January, and a schedule change. Noggin stutters now, they repeat every show at least once, two episodes of The Upside-Down Show, two episodes of Pinky Dinky Doo, etc. It was aired for a long time that Noggin would be coming on all day, as opposed to from 6 AM to 6PM as it had been. 24 hours of It's like Preschool on TV. The big day came, and sure enough, come 5:58 PM we were promised Max and Ruby. And it cut to Saved by the Bell. Turns out, Dish Network our satellite people didn't WANT 24 hours of Preschool on TV. They still wanted teeny-bopper crap like Saved by the Bell and Dawson's Creek all night. So they refuse to carry the new hours of Noggin. The ones where all of the Dora and Max and Ruby apparently got put. Because now, we don't get them.
Now we have to seek them out on Nick Jr. Not so bad you think? Nick Jr. has commercials. Lots of commercials. In the middle of the show. With Spongebob in them *shudder*. A few times each show. Z doesn't like commercials. Yet. They don't hold his attention. I get five minute breaks of peace and quiet, here and there, interrupted with loud, obnoxious, boring commercials. You know how much wall art busy-ness a 2 year old can do in 5 minutes? Just ask Nicki, and check out the mascara pics on her blog! ;-)
OK, so before I dig THAT hole deeper...
I see myself as a pretty good mom. My kids are healthy, I control their portions, I monitor and encourage who their friends are, I cope with their sports encourage them to be physically active, I even send them to heck on Earth public school to co-mingulate with their peers. I don't really think that's a word, but you get the idea.
Anyway, I do occasionally need time to read blogs, write my blog, and stare for hours on end at the computer myself, to preserve some level of sanity. Which is where Noggin comes in. Or at least, they used to.
It seems like every time I find something that works, someone has to go and ruin fix it. Case in point, just as Z was deciding Max and Ruby were as interesting as Dora (he is a selective TV viewer) the darn station went and did away with both of them. It used to be that Noggin was on all day at our house, in hopes of distracting the child from coloring on the walls for background noise, and here and there my little angel would happen on a program of interest to him. Like Dora the Explorer. And then Max and Ruby. And interspersed throughout my day would be entire 25 minute segments where I didn't have to worry about markers, paint, play dough, Kool-Aid pitcher dumping my sweet, darling little boy, and I could, oh, take a SHOWER, or close my eyes for longer than a blink.
Then came January, and a schedule change. Noggin stutters now, they repeat every show at least once, two episodes of The Upside-Down Show, two episodes of Pinky Dinky Doo, etc. It was aired for a long time that Noggin would be coming on all day, as opposed to from 6 AM to 6PM as it had been. 24 hours of It's like Preschool on TV. The big day came, and sure enough, come 5:58 PM we were promised Max and Ruby. And it cut to Saved by the Bell. Turns out, Dish Network our satellite people didn't WANT 24 hours of Preschool on TV. They still wanted teeny-bopper crap like Saved by the Bell and Dawson's Creek all night. So they refuse to carry the new hours of Noggin. The ones where all of the Dora and Max and Ruby apparently got put. Because now, we don't get them.
Now we have to seek them out on Nick Jr. Not so bad you think? Nick Jr. has commercials. Lots of commercials. In the middle of the show. With Spongebob in them *shudder*. A few times each show. Z doesn't like commercials. Yet. They don't hold his attention. I get five minute breaks of peace and quiet, here and there, interrupted with loud, obnoxious, boring commercials. You know how much wall art busy-ness a 2 year old can do in 5 minutes? Just ask Nicki, and check out the mascara pics on her blog! ;-)
Boy, I LIKE being healthy!
So, yesterday was a VERY productive day for me! It's amazing what one can accomplish when one is not puking, coughing, sneezing, wiping snotty noses, reading really good books, or gallivanting anywhere from Farmington to Portland and places in between for meetings, appointments, or much needed toilet paper.
I felt GOOD! And I got a LOT done, my gracious. I vacuumed the living room. I took all the recycle paper from the basket in the office and put it in a paper bag. I swapped the laundry around, and started more. I folded what was clean, sorted out Brian and Dustin's and had them fold theirs. I gathered and washed some of Bill's laundry, and vacuumed the bedroom floor, along with some of the breezeway. I loaded and ran the dishwasher. I washed the counters off. I paid bills, checked email, and read blogs. It helped I had good music on to keep me moving! Then, it was 11:00, so I popped the half a pan of chicken and rice left from two nights ago in the oven (so it would be war at lunch time), and started baking. Bread. AND cinnamon rolls. Because I have been craving homemade bread for weeks, but I've been too sick, too busy, or too far behind to not focus on my house, and I haven't been able to get to it.
And here it is:
Because I took pictures:
Because I knew some people wouldn't believe me:
Eat your heart out. I might share, but you might have to get here by noon time! I can't promise there will be any left! I made the cinnamon rolls differently then usual, way more cinnamon in the sugar mixture than usual. They actual leave your mouth with a cinnamon aftertaste, it's WONDERFUL!! Even Bill said, "Those are really good!" When all I usually get from him is, "Yeah, they're good." when I ask for his opinion.
Anyway, TODAY I still feel good. But I don't feel much like getting anything done. Brian is home with an awful sore throat, his teacher just called to check on how he was (very sweet). I don't think it's strep, because it does feel better with Motrin, I think his head is just congested, causing a post-nasal thing. Poor kid. But he liked the cinnamon rolls. I need to get some more popsicles I guess!
Anyway, I guess I'll veg out, read some other blogs, and maybe take a nap. Life is good today!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Musings
Several things to report, none of them likely to make sense to you all.
How does ice build up under 12 feet of ice and water shield?
Perspective is such an interesting concept. I wish I could show you photos of some of the houses around here, the levels of snow accumulated. Those will small yards have igloos, those with large yards, like us, have open space that doesn't look so bad. And then what about where all this snow will go when the weather warms up? I'm a bit concerned for all of us here. I can't show you pictures, though, because my life is such that when I do find time where I can choose an activity, staying in my house is so novel that I don't think about taking them then. I only think of it when I am out, and then I have destinations to attend. *sigh*
I just read a fantastic book that none of you can read yet (insert evil nah nah nah nah nah nah).
It was a fantasy, I think, more fantasy than anything I've ever read and enjoyed in the past anyway. And also a mystery. I thoroughly enjoyed it, thanks Bryce!
I attended Melissa and Savannah's doctor appointment yesterday. MCCP is a time warp, there is no clock in the room you are in, and there is no sense of the passing of time. While aggravating for someone like me who thrives/agonizes on, "How much time do I have left before..." I suspect it is good for the children who go there, they deal with what's in front of them, not rushed to get through their procedures or emotions. Plug your ears eyes if you don't want to hear about it, it's the next paragraph!
Savannah is signed up for a study. The study is past the point where they test for side effects, play with how much of the medicine to give is too much. It is now in the, OK, stuff is safe, let's see if it helps THIS kind of cancer, and THAT kind of cancer. The idea is that the medicines (there are 4 kinds) might slow down the growth of the tumors through a low consistent chemo by mouth, and other drugs known to choke off smaller blood vessels, the kind that can be feeding the tumor, again to slow it's ability to grow. Fingers crossed that this will buy us more happy time with our angel on earth!
My own family is well, our roof is shoveled in anticipation of the ice storm we will get today, I'm stocked on fountain soda diet pepsi, and the kids are home from school, so no travel worries for me, just Bill. We are sittinf tight, waiting it out. Maybe I'll make bread... or cinnamon rolls. Hmmmm...
How does ice build up under 12 feet of ice and water shield?
Perspective is such an interesting concept. I wish I could show you photos of some of the houses around here, the levels of snow accumulated. Those will small yards have igloos, those with large yards, like us, have open space that doesn't look so bad. And then what about where all this snow will go when the weather warms up? I'm a bit concerned for all of us here. I can't show you pictures, though, because my life is such that when I do find time where I can choose an activity, staying in my house is so novel that I don't think about taking them then. I only think of it when I am out, and then I have destinations to attend. *sigh*
I just read a fantastic book that none of you can read yet (insert evil nah nah nah nah nah nah).
It was a fantasy, I think, more fantasy than anything I've ever read and enjoyed in the past anyway. And also a mystery. I thoroughly enjoyed it, thanks Bryce!
I attended Melissa and Savannah's doctor appointment yesterday. MCCP is a time warp, there is no clock in the room you are in, and there is no sense of the passing of time. While aggravating for someone like me who thrives/agonizes on, "How much time do I have left before..." I suspect it is good for the children who go there, they deal with what's in front of them, not rushed to get through their procedures or emotions. Plug your ears eyes if you don't want to hear about it, it's the next paragraph!
Savannah is signed up for a study. The study is past the point where they test for side effects, play with how much of the medicine to give is too much. It is now in the, OK, stuff is safe, let's see if it helps THIS kind of cancer, and THAT kind of cancer. The idea is that the medicines (there are 4 kinds) might slow down the growth of the tumors through a low consistent chemo by mouth, and other drugs known to choke off smaller blood vessels, the kind that can be feeding the tumor, again to slow it's ability to grow. Fingers crossed that this will buy us more happy time with our angel on earth!
My own family is well, our roof is shoveled in anticipation of the ice storm we will get today, I'm stocked on fountain soda diet pepsi, and the kids are home from school, so no travel worries for me, just Bill. We are sittinf tight, waiting it out. Maybe I'll make bread... or cinnamon rolls. Hmmmm...
Monday, March 3, 2008
The things you learn online...
So, I was checking out some lady from California's blog, and she posted information I will now share with you. It's called, Google Reader. www.google.com/reader
What you do, is you sign in with your email and a password, and then on the left is a green tab that says "add subscription". You click on it, and one at a time you cut and paste the URLs of blogs you like. You list the blogs you like to read, and then in one screen, you can check whether or not they have ALL been updated. The blogs will show a number beside them of the posts that it thinks you haven't read, though I marked them all read first off, because I had read them. But today, ONE person had a new post. So I read the 1. Without having to check the 10 or so I read. You also see a snippet of the post on a screen, and if you click on the blog's title above, you can actually go to the blog, so you can read the comments and make one if you want. 'Cuz bloggers LIVE and BREATHE for comments!
If this is the only blog you read, I am sorry to have bored you. But Kim, THIS POST IS FOR YOU!!!
What you do, is you sign in with your email and a password, and then on the left is a green tab that says "add subscription". You click on it, and one at a time you cut and paste the URLs of blogs you like. You list the blogs you like to read, and then in one screen, you can check whether or not they have ALL been updated. The blogs will show a number beside them of the posts that it thinks you haven't read, though I marked them all read first off, because I had read them. But today, ONE person had a new post. So I read the 1. Without having to check the 10 or so I read. You also see a snippet of the post on a screen, and if you click on the blog's title above, you can actually go to the blog, so you can read the comments and make one if you want. 'Cuz bloggers LIVE and BREATHE for comments!
If this is the only blog you read, I am sorry to have bored you. But Kim, THIS POST IS FOR YOU!!!
Saturday, March 1, 2008
March 1
Yeah, sure it is. Whatever.
Can you see it fall? THOUSANDS, nay, MILLIONS of stupid annoying little flakes that will pile up and cause, well, misery and woe.
Cool website you might want to check out, the Tallest Snow Woman in the World has been built in Bethel ME. The pictures are way cool, I like how they use christmas trees for arms!
We here in the great state of Maine are ingenious. And clearly bored.
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