Okay, since most of you are apparently either super lame, or super lazy, which could very well be interchangeable, I will post the two, count them TWO tips I received from devoted followers who actually bother to read me and/or leave comments...Now, if you are new to this blog, or have been busy and unable to read posts lately, here's the link to what we're talking about...
Paula, my beloved sister, who finally has a blog, and also comments on MY blog, so therefore she may actually be the favorite (at least for the next thirty minutes) had this to say:
"Give yourself permission to let go of some things... especially if you don't have a nanny to take over what you can no longer do. You will learn that some chores must be done for your mental well being and others can be handed off. ALWAYS remember that just because someone doesn't do things the exact way you would like it done does NOT mean they are wrong."
Good advice, sister mine. Good advice. Did you know I used to be psycho about how towels and washcloths were folded. My darling husband used to go in and re-stack the wash cloths where they did not line up with folded side facing out, just to jack with my mind...I am proud to say that I am now totally over that.
Okay, maybe not totally. Sometimes, I reach in to get a washcloth, and I can't help myself, I have to re-stack them uniformly.
*Sigh*
I have issues.
Next we will visit with my Mom, who happens to be my very favorite mom, and that is a permanent condition as she is my only mom...Are you confused? I am.
"Remember that folding clothes is a family affair IF they want to watch TV they must have the basket of clothes folded. Socks that are wrong side out stay that way....They are right every other time."
Another great piece of advice. Have your kids take care of laundry folding.
The only piece of advice I will add to this particular post is to spread out chores. Make each day a designated day...Monday is vacuuming, Tuesday is dusting...Etc.
Of course, no day is dusting day for myself. I don't dust. I also don't scoop dog poop. My children do all of the dusting and scooping in this house. It is their job not mine. So, dusting is a bad example for myself...
But you get the idea, right? This idea is actually from my mom. She used to break up what was done when. Otherwise, you are killing yourself in your free time to get the whole house clean, but if you do little bite sized pieces all week, it's not so overwhelming.
So. That is the extent of advice I have for today.
Oh, don't get me wrong. I have tons of advice to give. I'm simply bursting to share it all with you. However, I will have a rare case of self restraint, and wait to see if some more of you lazy people might actually leave a comment on how you manage your family/housework/job in today's busy world...
You do know how to leave a comment, right? Simply click on the work comments, then go to the box and type it in! If you don't have an ID, simply comment anonymously...Then, click submit! You can do it! Now, go! Comment!!! Clickety-click-click!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Time Management
I have a very dear friend who recently started working full time for the first time in a long time.
Well, she used to be a dear friend...
Then, we both had to start working all the dad gum time, and now we hardly see each other. Now, we are more of "Hi! Nice to see you! I used to lunch once a week with a friend who looks a whole lot like you!"
Anyhoo, we ate Mexican with our families after church on Sunday. We discussed her new adventure in life...And the changes that always come as a result of a new job.
She said she was going to pick my brain about how to play this game of work and raise a family, and try not to let every thing else fall apart...
What flattery! She thinks I've got it all together!
What a pal! What a gal!
Gentle Reader, I obviously have her fooled!
In all honesty, I do enjoy organizing. Planning. Making a list and checking it twice...
All of these things work for me. However, the reality is, strange as I may find it, not everyone wants to roll the way I roll...
Weird.
That being said, I have been thinking about her dilemma, and what a challenge it is to go from working occasionally to nearly full time, and the shock that is to the whole family.
Well, my very first recommendation, is to find a nanny. Particularly a nanny who will do your dishes, straighten your house, supervise homework, chores, and run your kids to various things such as piano lessons...Generally, the nanny needs to be able to step in and take over the vast majority of parenting responsibilities.
Because, let's be real, Gentle Reader. If Mommy's gonna work full time, something's gotta give...
Gentle Reader, if you skip this step, I fear there is little I can do for you...
Just kidding!
I do have tips for you. If you're interested, that is...If not, then I suggest you skip the next few posts, because I've decided to break this down into a few posts, so I have plenty of room to impart my wisdom to you, my Gentle Readers.
However, before I get too far in these posts, I'd like to know what questions you may have for me, a veritable fount of information. And, if by some freak chance of nature I don't have a good answer for you, well I fear I will have to stoop to desperate measures...And lie.
Oh! And, I would love to hear your tips for managing a busy schedule too.
So, bring on the questions! Give me your suggestions! Share your ideas!
Disclaimer: This author may or may not feel compelled to claim your ideas as her own...Depending on how good the idea is, that is! I certainly don't plan to pass on any more drivel than I already do!
Well, she used to be a dear friend...
Then, we both had to start working all the dad gum time, and now we hardly see each other. Now, we are more of "Hi! Nice to see you! I used to lunch once a week with a friend who looks a whole lot like you!"
Anyhoo, we ate Mexican with our families after church on Sunday. We discussed her new adventure in life...And the changes that always come as a result of a new job.
She said she was going to pick my brain about how to play this game of work and raise a family, and try not to let every thing else fall apart...
What flattery! She thinks I've got it all together!
What a pal! What a gal!
Gentle Reader, I obviously have her fooled!
In all honesty, I do enjoy organizing. Planning. Making a list and checking it twice...
All of these things work for me. However, the reality is, strange as I may find it, not everyone wants to roll the way I roll...
Weird.
That being said, I have been thinking about her dilemma, and what a challenge it is to go from working occasionally to nearly full time, and the shock that is to the whole family.
Well, my very first recommendation, is to find a nanny. Particularly a nanny who will do your dishes, straighten your house, supervise homework, chores, and run your kids to various things such as piano lessons...Generally, the nanny needs to be able to step in and take over the vast majority of parenting responsibilities.
Because, let's be real, Gentle Reader. If Mommy's gonna work full time, something's gotta give...
Gentle Reader, if you skip this step, I fear there is little I can do for you...
Just kidding!
I do have tips for you. If you're interested, that is...If not, then I suggest you skip the next few posts, because I've decided to break this down into a few posts, so I have plenty of room to impart my wisdom to you, my Gentle Readers.
However, before I get too far in these posts, I'd like to know what questions you may have for me, a veritable fount of information. And, if by some freak chance of nature I don't have a good answer for you, well I fear I will have to stoop to desperate measures...And lie.
Oh! And, I would love to hear your tips for managing a busy schedule too.
So, bring on the questions! Give me your suggestions! Share your ideas!
Disclaimer: This author may or may not feel compelled to claim your ideas as her own...Depending on how good the idea is, that is! I certainly don't plan to pass on any more drivel than I already do!
Monday, September 27, 2010
Time With Kids
I feel like I never spend enough time with my kids. Between work, church, and other extra curricular activities, I feel like we are always going and never just being together...
It got me thinking about my growing up years and how hard my parents worked. My parents both worked full time jobs and were full time farmers. Mom worked at school, and Dad was a pumper for the oil companies. He would check wells before daybreak, come home eat breakfast with us, then work on the farm until it was too hot, then pump more wells, return home for supper, then go back to work in the cool of the evening. You would think that this meant we never had time together, but the truth was the exact opposite...
My mom drove the school bus from the time I was in 3rd grade on. This meant I got on the bus with her every morning at 6:50 am, and I didn't get home until 4:30 pm...I ate breakfast on the bus, carried a Caboodle to do my makeup, and even had a handy dandy butane curling iron. I also never truly had homework, as it all got done on the bus! So, I obviously had over 2 hours a day with my mom every day, just on the bus!
When I was in preschool and in my early school age years during summer, I stayed with my dad. I rode the tractor with him, helped count cattle, moved irrigation pipe, built fence...Whatever he had on his agenda for the day, that was my agenda too. Of course, I remember going to Grandma Irene's too. I think that was when my talking was on his last nerve, or perhaps he was doing something it was unsafe for me to help with...But in all honesty, it was probably because I was talking and I wouldn't shut up..
We lived 26 miles from the nearest town. We didn't do summer league ball, and we just didn't sign up for all the little activities that families today bog themselves down in. During the summer, we were at home. I don't remember missing my friends, but I know I only saw them a few times a summer. Instead, I stayed with my cousins Matt, Ben & Jaime for a few days, or spent a few days with my mom's parents. I rarely got together with my "town friends" and the other country kids were like me...Our parents were busy doing farm work, so we really only saw each other at VBS.
I look back on my childhood and I know it had to be one of the happiest that could ever be. Not because we had lots of stuff, or went lots of places, or participated in lots of activities. My childhood was great because it was spent with my family...
A family that taught me the meaning of hard work and responsibility. That hard work taught me to appreciate the time I had off, so I was never bored, or looking for something to do. I guess what I am taking away from this little trip down memory lane is this:
My parents were busy people. Busier than I can even imagine being, but they weren't busy doing "things" that you are supposed to be involved in. They were busy working and making sure we had the things we needed...Yet, I always felt they had time for me. Not necessarily time to play with me, but they always had time with me (I can remember laying on the trampoline looking at the stars countless times.) Whether it was riding on the bus, picking green beans with my mom in the garden (I hated picking green beans) or handing my dad a wrench as he replaced the brake pads on the feed wagon...
I was with them.
I often didn't want to be working with them... I would get frustrated because Dad could drive 5 steeples in the fence to my one. He was stronger, could move faster, and quite frankly, he probably didn't really "need" my help. But, I had to be out there with him, so he was sure to make me feel needed instead of in the way...
I am going to strive to be better with doing this for my kids. I want to "make" them help me get supper on the table, even when they complain they want to play instead. I am going to "make" them help me clean up the kitchen...In general I am going to make it my goal to just "make" them help me with whatever housework or yard work I'm doing. Because I need them. I need them to spend these moments with me while we are all together in these brief years I have them at home.
Yes, they will complain. They will not enjoy it in the moment. But hopefully, someday they'll look back on their childhood and have appreciation for the time we've had together...
Even if it was just scooping dog poop.
It got me thinking about my growing up years and how hard my parents worked. My parents both worked full time jobs and were full time farmers. Mom worked at school, and Dad was a pumper for the oil companies. He would check wells before daybreak, come home eat breakfast with us, then work on the farm until it was too hot, then pump more wells, return home for supper, then go back to work in the cool of the evening. You would think that this meant we never had time together, but the truth was the exact opposite...
My mom drove the school bus from the time I was in 3rd grade on. This meant I got on the bus with her every morning at 6:50 am, and I didn't get home until 4:30 pm...I ate breakfast on the bus, carried a Caboodle to do my makeup, and even had a handy dandy butane curling iron. I also never truly had homework, as it all got done on the bus! So, I obviously had over 2 hours a day with my mom every day, just on the bus!
When I was in preschool and in my early school age years during summer, I stayed with my dad. I rode the tractor with him, helped count cattle, moved irrigation pipe, built fence...Whatever he had on his agenda for the day, that was my agenda too. Of course, I remember going to Grandma Irene's too. I think that was when my talking was on his last nerve, or perhaps he was doing something it was unsafe for me to help with...But in all honesty, it was probably because I was talking and I wouldn't shut up..
We lived 26 miles from the nearest town. We didn't do summer league ball, and we just didn't sign up for all the little activities that families today bog themselves down in. During the summer, we were at home. I don't remember missing my friends, but I know I only saw them a few times a summer. Instead, I stayed with my cousins Matt, Ben & Jaime for a few days, or spent a few days with my mom's parents. I rarely got together with my "town friends" and the other country kids were like me...Our parents were busy doing farm work, so we really only saw each other at VBS.
I look back on my childhood and I know it had to be one of the happiest that could ever be. Not because we had lots of stuff, or went lots of places, or participated in lots of activities. My childhood was great because it was spent with my family...
A family that taught me the meaning of hard work and responsibility. That hard work taught me to appreciate the time I had off, so I was never bored, or looking for something to do. I guess what I am taking away from this little trip down memory lane is this:
My parents were busy people. Busier than I can even imagine being, but they weren't busy doing "things" that you are supposed to be involved in. They were busy working and making sure we had the things we needed...Yet, I always felt they had time for me. Not necessarily time to play with me, but they always had time with me (I can remember laying on the trampoline looking at the stars countless times.) Whether it was riding on the bus, picking green beans with my mom in the garden (I hated picking green beans) or handing my dad a wrench as he replaced the brake pads on the feed wagon...
I was with them.
I often didn't want to be working with them... I would get frustrated because Dad could drive 5 steeples in the fence to my one. He was stronger, could move faster, and quite frankly, he probably didn't really "need" my help. But, I had to be out there with him, so he was sure to make me feel needed instead of in the way...
I am going to strive to be better with doing this for my kids. I want to "make" them help me get supper on the table, even when they complain they want to play instead. I am going to "make" them help me clean up the kitchen...In general I am going to make it my goal to just "make" them help me with whatever housework or yard work I'm doing. Because I need them. I need them to spend these moments with me while we are all together in these brief years I have them at home.
Yes, they will complain. They will not enjoy it in the moment. But hopefully, someday they'll look back on their childhood and have appreciation for the time we've had together...
Even if it was just scooping dog poop.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The Jiggly in My Wiggly
The darn lawn mower belt fell off one trip around the yard after Studmuffin reattached it...I have to say, I think I felt my uterus contract when I saw him mowing with the push mower...I love, love, love seeing him do yard work in a t-shirt, ball cap and safety glasses. OH! And pants too, of course! Preferably Levis....
I made a double batch of oatmeal cookies, which resulted in me skipping supper last night . I opted to drink a half a pot of coffee and eat cookies as they came out of the oven.
I was still slightly sick at my stomach this morning.
Never fear! I made a batch of super easy cinnamon rolls to settle my stomach!
Here's the deal: Take a can of crescent rolls. Leave them in 4 rectangles and slather them with butter, then sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar...Slice them into 4 mini rolls (for a total of 16 mini rolls) and bake at 350 about 7 minutes, or until done...
While they bake, melt some butter in the microwave, then stir in some powdered sugar until it's the desired thickness (I like honey consistency.) After your rolls are done, simply spread the glaze over rolls...
Your family will think you are fabulous...
And you will secretly have to agree.
Confession: I didn't eat the rolls. My stomach hurt too much, so I ate toast and drank 4 cups of coffee.
Yeah.
That pretty much took care of the stomach ache...
Or not.
I will end this post with one question: Why am I developing a jiggly in my wiggly?
I made a double batch of oatmeal cookies, which resulted in me skipping supper last night . I opted to drink a half a pot of coffee and eat cookies as they came out of the oven.
I was still slightly sick at my stomach this morning.
Never fear! I made a batch of super easy cinnamon rolls to settle my stomach!
Here's the deal: Take a can of crescent rolls. Leave them in 4 rectangles and slather them with butter, then sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar...Slice them into 4 mini rolls (for a total of 16 mini rolls) and bake at 350 about 7 minutes, or until done...
While they bake, melt some butter in the microwave, then stir in some powdered sugar until it's the desired thickness (I like honey consistency.) After your rolls are done, simply spread the glaze over rolls...
Your family will think you are fabulous...
And you will secretly have to agree.
Confession: I didn't eat the rolls. My stomach hurt too much, so I ate toast and drank 4 cups of coffee.
Yeah.
That pretty much took care of the stomach ache...
Or not.
I will end this post with one question: Why am I developing a jiggly in my wiggly?
Saturday, September 25, 2010
What's Happening Right Now.
My cat is at the door, telling me it's time to feed him.
It's always time to eat, according to him.
I'm drinking coffee, trying to plan a menu for the next several days, and looking at all the housework that needs to be done before bunco on Tuesday night.
Why did I volunteer to host bunco on a night after I work all day?
I have lots of ideas on what to feed them, but no concrete plans...Lasagna? Mexican Casserole? Chili or chicken enchilada soup?
What about dessert? Brownies? Pie? Cookies?
I mowed the yard last night with our push mower, as the riding mower's blades wouldn't turn...My neighbor stood in his yard with his socks on, smoked a cigarette, and watched me.
In my gray hand-me-down shorts from Studmuffin's Aunt Aleta with the word "Sooners" written across my butt, and my also hand-me-down "Ski Sandia Peak" t-shirt with holes in the armpit, also compliments of Aleta...
Lovely.
I watched a stupid tear jerker last night. I hate movies that make me cry great gulping sobs with tears dripping off my chin and snot running out my nose. I went in Blockbuster to rent Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" and instead left with "Dear John." I don't know what I was thinking...
Okay. I better get busy. I have no purpose in this post other than to procrastinate on the stuff I should be doing...
But, I will end with one question: What do you have planned for this weekend?
It's always time to eat, according to him.
I'm drinking coffee, trying to plan a menu for the next several days, and looking at all the housework that needs to be done before bunco on Tuesday night.
Why did I volunteer to host bunco on a night after I work all day?
I have lots of ideas on what to feed them, but no concrete plans...Lasagna? Mexican Casserole? Chili or chicken enchilada soup?
What about dessert? Brownies? Pie? Cookies?
I mowed the yard last night with our push mower, as the riding mower's blades wouldn't turn...My neighbor stood in his yard with his socks on, smoked a cigarette, and watched me.
In my gray hand-me-down shorts from Studmuffin's Aunt Aleta with the word "Sooners" written across my butt, and my also hand-me-down "Ski Sandia Peak" t-shirt with holes in the armpit, also compliments of Aleta...
Lovely.
I watched a stupid tear jerker last night. I hate movies that make me cry great gulping sobs with tears dripping off my chin and snot running out my nose. I went in Blockbuster to rent Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" and instead left with "Dear John." I don't know what I was thinking...
Okay. I better get busy. I have no purpose in this post other than to procrastinate on the stuff I should be doing...
But, I will end with one question: What do you have planned for this weekend?
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Safety FIRST!!!
We went to the State Fair last Friday night...
AKA The Freak Show.
I saw two police officers in a golf cart, forcing their way through the crowded midway...The cop riding as passenger was eating corn on a stick. He had a kernel of corn on his chin.
I felt safer just looking at him.
Don't you love how you can virtually everything on a stick at the fair?
We stopped to admire a dude spray painting AMAZING landscapes. I failed to notice the drunk guy next to us. Until he literally almost fell on top of Popcorn. I mean, cuh-RAZY drunk...
This was about 8:30. Did you know I hate crowds? I do. I get all nervous and sweaty and irritable. Add alcohol to the mix, and I'm a complete bundle of nerves. I have issues with that too. Seriously. That drunk guy almost sent me into a total chest clutching anxiety attack. Now, I won't pretend I never drink. That would be a lie. But I have an absolute phobia of drunk people. They are just too unpredictable and I am so nervous that I can't even relax.
So. I was having a great time in a crowd surrounded by drunk people...
I kept thinking, "What kind of parents are we to have our kids out in this? Next year, we are leaving by dark." Which is what we typically do. Primarily because we go on Dollar Day, which is a school night. Of course, we couldn't go on that day this year, so late drunk night it had to be...
In other Super Safety Encouraging News, Popcorn wanted to ride every single ride that spun and ESPECIALLY the ones that went upside down...
Bookworm nearly hurled on the swings, and she was done. She did decide to ride the Ferris Wheel. You know those lines take forever to let all the people off and on...
As we finally got close to the front I noticed a disturbing grinding noise. I saw one of the workers climb under the ride, open a door, and begin to bang on something with a wrench. Loudly. I started to question the safety of this ride, but in typical amusement park fashion, I was hesitant to step out of line to get on one of the other 4 Ferris Wheels...The line was SO LONG and we had waited forever..."Baby, I think we need to ride a different ride. This one is making funny sounds and they are working on it...While they continue to put people on." She was disappointed, but as we walked away, they shut the ride down. WHEW!
In even more Super Safety Encouraging News we had to go shopping Saturday. NOT my favorite activity. However, Popcorn's shoes that were all of 3 weeks old were too small, so we bit the bullet. On our way home we held a vote between Chik fil A and Freddy's Frozen Custard. We unanimously voted on Freddy's. Their fries are to die for...
As we were eating, a strange banging sounded on the roof. We were wondering if it was a nail gun or a sledge hammer when suddenly a loud crash was heard and a large pile of roof fell onto the table across from us. Literally. A hole appeared in the ceiling. As in, a hole you can see sky through. I'm not sure what sort of roofing materials they were using, but I think a sledge hammer was somewhere in the mix.
Remember the fries that are to die for? Well, apparently, they really are.
Because we totally stayed and finished eating.
No joke.
As we left we noted the sign written in ball point pen on a piece of printer paper: Lobby closed dew to construction. Drive thru open.
Good to know that the people at Freddy's not only make a mean fry, but they obviously excel in grammar.
AKA The Freak Show.
I saw two police officers in a golf cart, forcing their way through the crowded midway...The cop riding as passenger was eating corn on a stick. He had a kernel of corn on his chin.
I felt safer just looking at him.
Don't you love how you can virtually everything on a stick at the fair?
We stopped to admire a dude spray painting AMAZING landscapes. I failed to notice the drunk guy next to us. Until he literally almost fell on top of Popcorn. I mean, cuh-RAZY drunk...
This was about 8:30. Did you know I hate crowds? I do. I get all nervous and sweaty and irritable. Add alcohol to the mix, and I'm a complete bundle of nerves. I have issues with that too. Seriously. That drunk guy almost sent me into a total chest clutching anxiety attack. Now, I won't pretend I never drink. That would be a lie. But I have an absolute phobia of drunk people. They are just too unpredictable and I am so nervous that I can't even relax.
So. I was having a great time in a crowd surrounded by drunk people...
I kept thinking, "What kind of parents are we to have our kids out in this? Next year, we are leaving by dark." Which is what we typically do. Primarily because we go on Dollar Day, which is a school night. Of course, we couldn't go on that day this year, so late drunk night it had to be...
In other Super Safety Encouraging News, Popcorn wanted to ride every single ride that spun and ESPECIALLY the ones that went upside down...
Bookworm nearly hurled on the swings, and she was done. She did decide to ride the Ferris Wheel. You know those lines take forever to let all the people off and on...
As we finally got close to the front I noticed a disturbing grinding noise. I saw one of the workers climb under the ride, open a door, and begin to bang on something with a wrench. Loudly. I started to question the safety of this ride, but in typical amusement park fashion, I was hesitant to step out of line to get on one of the other 4 Ferris Wheels...The line was SO LONG and we had waited forever..."Baby, I think we need to ride a different ride. This one is making funny sounds and they are working on it...While they continue to put people on." She was disappointed, but as we walked away, they shut the ride down. WHEW!
In even more Super Safety Encouraging News we had to go shopping Saturday. NOT my favorite activity. However, Popcorn's shoes that were all of 3 weeks old were too small, so we bit the bullet. On our way home we held a vote between Chik fil A and Freddy's Frozen Custard. We unanimously voted on Freddy's. Their fries are to die for...
As we were eating, a strange banging sounded on the roof. We were wondering if it was a nail gun or a sledge hammer when suddenly a loud crash was heard and a large pile of roof fell onto the table across from us. Literally. A hole appeared in the ceiling. As in, a hole you can see sky through. I'm not sure what sort of roofing materials they were using, but I think a sledge hammer was somewhere in the mix.
Remember the fries that are to die for? Well, apparently, they really are.
Because we totally stayed and finished eating.
No joke.
As we left we noted the sign written in ball point pen on a piece of printer paper: Lobby closed dew to construction. Drive thru open.
Good to know that the people at Freddy's not only make a mean fry, but they obviously excel in grammar.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Say Tennis Ace Teen King Lyre
We have an evangelist at our church this week. The title of this here post is on a t-shirt my daughter bought from his ministry...Say it really fast, and you will figure out the riddle...
Anyhoo, we have GREAT news to share with you!
Remember Popcorn, my little homebody?
She did NOT want to go to church Tuesday night.
Satan did not want her to go to church....
I drug her little complaining tale to church and told her "you have fun once you get there, and this is only for two more nights."
"I know. I just don't have time to play this week! And I want to play!"
"I know Baby. It will be over soon."
So. We went to church.
We ate a delicious meal of spaghetti and salad with french bread and sugar cookies for dessert.
We heard a fabulous sermon with the theme "It's all about the heart. What is in the heart comes out of your mouth. What you say is what you mean." It was great...
At the end of the sermon, we had an invitation... Of course. What would be the point of a crusade, if you don't invite people to know Jesus personally?
Every head bowed, every eye closed...
At the end, I looked up, and what do I see? Yes! I see a crowd of people. I think over 25 made decisions for Christ...But guess which one I was most excited about!
Popcorn asked Jesus into her heart!
Hallelujah!
Now, just for background, when Popcorn was 5 on Good Friday of 2008, she told me she wanted Jesus in her heart. I blew her off, initially, because I wasn't sure she truly understood she needed a savior. However, she said to me, "But Mommy, how do you know if I die I won't go to hell?" Well, I decided she had a good understanding of her need of a savior, and figured I'd better not try to quench the Spirit.
Well, I know why Satan did not want her to go to church Tuesday night.
Tuesday night, she felt the Holy Spirit.
Calling her.
She went and spoke with one of the counselors, who happened to be her first grade Sunday School teacher, and she said that while she always understood she needed Jesus, she never felt Him in her heart. She prayed with the pastor that night during the invitation, and she wept big drops of tears down her cheeks, off her chin and onto her shirt as she told me, "Jesus is my savior."
She got Jesus out of her head. She moved Him into her heart.
And that, Gentle Reader, is worth a big ole Hallelujah!
Anyhoo, we have GREAT news to share with you!
Remember Popcorn, my little homebody?
She did NOT want to go to church Tuesday night.
Satan did not want her to go to church....
I drug her little complaining tale to church and told her "you have fun once you get there, and this is only for two more nights."
"I know. I just don't have time to play this week! And I want to play!"
"I know Baby. It will be over soon."
So. We went to church.
We ate a delicious meal of spaghetti and salad with french bread and sugar cookies for dessert.
We heard a fabulous sermon with the theme "It's all about the heart. What is in the heart comes out of your mouth. What you say is what you mean." It was great...
At the end of the sermon, we had an invitation... Of course. What would be the point of a crusade, if you don't invite people to know Jesus personally?
Every head bowed, every eye closed...
At the end, I looked up, and what do I see? Yes! I see a crowd of people. I think over 25 made decisions for Christ...But guess which one I was most excited about!
Popcorn asked Jesus into her heart!
Hallelujah!
Now, just for background, when Popcorn was 5 on Good Friday of 2008, she told me she wanted Jesus in her heart. I blew her off, initially, because I wasn't sure she truly understood she needed a savior. However, she said to me, "But Mommy, how do you know if I die I won't go to hell?" Well, I decided she had a good understanding of her need of a savior, and figured I'd better not try to quench the Spirit.
Well, I know why Satan did not want her to go to church Tuesday night.
Tuesday night, she felt the Holy Spirit.
Calling her.
She went and spoke with one of the counselors, who happened to be her first grade Sunday School teacher, and she said that while she always understood she needed Jesus, she never felt Him in her heart. She prayed with the pastor that night during the invitation, and she wept big drops of tears down her cheeks, off her chin and onto her shirt as she told me, "Jesus is my savior."
She got Jesus out of her head. She moved Him into her heart.
And that, Gentle Reader, is worth a big ole Hallelujah!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
A Scary Bedtime Story
My oldest has a hard time with change. She's getting better with age, but big changes still frighten her, but who isn't leery of change?
When Studmuffin moved to Oklahoma, and we were still in Texas she developed lots of strange fears. Looking back, she developed similar fears/thought patterns when we lived apart for a few months before our move to San Antonio, but since she was only four, I didn't recognize it. Anyways, all of that to say that she had some fears. A lot of them...
One night, she woke up crying, afraid to leave her bed, and I came in to check on her. She was scared. She couldn't tell me why. Just scared. I offered to lay down with her for a few minutes...
"Okay." *sniff, sniff*....I started to climb over her and into bed...
"Watch out Mommy, you are about to lay down on Walter Wick."
Gentle Reader, every hair stood up on my body, and I immediately broke out in a cold sweat...
I almost expired on the spot of fear, declared my child in need of an exorcism, and began to search the web for holy water, delivered airmail...
Unless, of course, there really WAS someone in her bed named Walter Wick, which of course had all sorts of even more frightening implications....
"Walter Wick?" I asked in a shaky, please don't tell me voice...
"My hidden picture book. I was looking at it before I went to bed."
OH!!!! A BOOOOOook! Of course!
What else would "Walter Wick is in my bed, don't lay down on him," mean?
Only a totally dramatic over-reactor would think it was anything but a book!
And,clearly...That is not me.
Not. At. All.
When Studmuffin moved to Oklahoma, and we were still in Texas she developed lots of strange fears. Looking back, she developed similar fears/thought patterns when we lived apart for a few months before our move to San Antonio, but since she was only four, I didn't recognize it. Anyways, all of that to say that she had some fears. A lot of them...
One night, she woke up crying, afraid to leave her bed, and I came in to check on her. She was scared. She couldn't tell me why. Just scared. I offered to lay down with her for a few minutes...
"Okay." *sniff, sniff*....I started to climb over her and into bed...
"Watch out Mommy, you are about to lay down on Walter Wick."
Gentle Reader, every hair stood up on my body, and I immediately broke out in a cold sweat...
I almost expired on the spot of fear, declared my child in need of an exorcism, and began to search the web for holy water, delivered airmail...
Unless, of course, there really WAS someone in her bed named Walter Wick, which of course had all sorts of even more frightening implications....
"Walter Wick?" I asked in a shaky, please don't tell me voice...
"My hidden picture book. I was looking at it before I went to bed."
OH!!!! A BOOOOOook! Of course!
What else would "Walter Wick is in my bed, don't lay down on him," mean?
Only a totally dramatic over-reactor would think it was anything but a book!
And,clearly...That is not me.
Not. At. All.
Car Conversations
Popcorn is not only highly active. She's highly talkative.
Not that I'm one to point fingers or anything, but seriously, that kid can talk...And coming from a self acknowledged chatter box that's saying something.
She is constantly making noise. It may be weird tongue actions with accompanying noises...Can you imagine "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" only hummed with your tongue waggling in and out of your mouth?
Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?
Neither do I.
Anyway, she's noisy.
Studmuffin: Popcorn is like a shark. If her mouth stops moving, she will die.
Nice. Studmuffin. Nice.
And, sadly, it is too true....
On that same car trip we were discussing Bookworm and her sense of drama. One of the ladies I'm in choir with has her in class this year. She is always telling me how sweet she is, and that she just loves her....I looked over at my husband and said, "Yeah. She's quite the little suck up." And we both laughed.
Because it's true.
But that's okay. Because I am too.
I can't stand for someone to not like me.
Seriously. Everyone must like me. If I think someone doesn't like me, I make sure to be as charming as possible to them.
I need them to like me.
Even if I don't like them.
Gentle Reader, I never denied having issues....
Anyhoo, back to the car conversation.
You see, I was just like her. I made sure all of the teachers liked me. I was friendly. I was charming. I worked hard, and I made sure they knew it I made straight A's. I smiled. I was generally likable...Yep. That was me. Andi the suck up.
So, I modestly said, "Yeah. All of my teachers just loved me."
"When you were in class," Studmuffin answered. I detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"What do you mean?" Sometimes I just walk right into his openings...
"You were never in class. You ditched every chance you got!"
"That's not true! I went to math and science. Y'know: The IMPORTANT classes that I actually had to be in to know what's going on...Oh, and typing. I barely squeaked by with an A in that class."
Wait!! Did I just age myself? I fear that my children do not even know what typing is...Much less a typewriter!
"Okay. So you went to math, science, and typing..." Again, Gentle Reader, I know this will distress you, but I felt nearly sure he was mocking me.
"Oh! And Spanish! I loved Spanish class!" You see, Gentle Reader, I was a responsible student! I only ditched classes that didn't matter to my future!
"How on earth did you get away with that? Why did they let you do that?"
"They didn't let me so much...I just needed a lot of bathroom breaks...And it really wasn't my fault if those bathroom breaks lead to trips to the library. I mean, what's wrong with going to the library? And, of course the library often lead to conversations with Mrs. Thrasher. I loved Mrs. Thrasher. I needed to talk to her, and keep her posted on my daily life. I'm sure her day was incomplete if I didn't visit her! And, while I was in yearbook I needed to take lots of pictures to have a good representation of the entire student body. This lead to trips to the art class. And the occasional trip through the grade school building...Where of course I had to catch up with my old teachers! So, clearly, it wasn't so much that I ditched class. That is a very strong statement. It was more a matter of I wasn't necessarily in the class I was scheduled to be in at the time I was scheduled to be there! Then, my junior or senior year, they decided that we had to have a hall pass to be out of class. And that stupid thing had my original/proclaimed destination on it. It was very challenging to make sure Mr. Mills didn't see me and say, 'Hey Jones-ey! Why aren't you in class? Let me see your hall pass.' Then he'd shake his finger at me and make me go to class...How irritating."
"Translation: You were skipping class."
"Okay. But you don't get it. The whole point is the teachers loved me. Bookworm gets that from me...."
Gentle Reader, I fear it is difficult to keep him on subject at times...
Not that I'm one to point fingers or anything, but seriously, that kid can talk...And coming from a self acknowledged chatter box that's saying something.
She is constantly making noise. It may be weird tongue actions with accompanying noises...Can you imagine "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" only hummed with your tongue waggling in and out of your mouth?
Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?
Neither do I.
Anyway, she's noisy.
Studmuffin: Popcorn is like a shark. If her mouth stops moving, she will die.
Nice. Studmuffin. Nice.
And, sadly, it is too true....
On that same car trip we were discussing Bookworm and her sense of drama. One of the ladies I'm in choir with has her in class this year. She is always telling me how sweet she is, and that she just loves her....I looked over at my husband and said, "Yeah. She's quite the little suck up." And we both laughed.
Because it's true.
But that's okay. Because I am too.
I can't stand for someone to not like me.
Seriously. Everyone must like me. If I think someone doesn't like me, I make sure to be as charming as possible to them.
I need them to like me.
Even if I don't like them.
Gentle Reader, I never denied having issues....
Anyhoo, back to the car conversation.
You see, I was just like her. I made sure all of the teachers liked me. I was friendly. I was charming. I worked hard, and I made sure they knew it I made straight A's. I smiled. I was generally likable...Yep. That was me. Andi the suck up.
So, I modestly said, "Yeah. All of my teachers just loved me."
"When you were in class," Studmuffin answered. I detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"What do you mean?" Sometimes I just walk right into his openings...
"You were never in class. You ditched every chance you got!"
"That's not true! I went to math and science. Y'know: The IMPORTANT classes that I actually had to be in to know what's going on...Oh, and typing. I barely squeaked by with an A in that class."
Wait!! Did I just age myself? I fear that my children do not even know what typing is...Much less a typewriter!
"Okay. So you went to math, science, and typing..." Again, Gentle Reader, I know this will distress you, but I felt nearly sure he was mocking me.
"Oh! And Spanish! I loved Spanish class!" You see, Gentle Reader, I was a responsible student! I only ditched classes that didn't matter to my future!
"How on earth did you get away with that? Why did they let you do that?"
"They didn't let me so much...I just needed a lot of bathroom breaks...And it really wasn't my fault if those bathroom breaks lead to trips to the library. I mean, what's wrong with going to the library? And, of course the library often lead to conversations with Mrs. Thrasher. I loved Mrs. Thrasher. I needed to talk to her, and keep her posted on my daily life. I'm sure her day was incomplete if I didn't visit her! And, while I was in yearbook I needed to take lots of pictures to have a good representation of the entire student body. This lead to trips to the art class. And the occasional trip through the grade school building...Where of course I had to catch up with my old teachers! So, clearly, it wasn't so much that I ditched class. That is a very strong statement. It was more a matter of I wasn't necessarily in the class I was scheduled to be in at the time I was scheduled to be there! Then, my junior or senior year, they decided that we had to have a hall pass to be out of class. And that stupid thing had my original/proclaimed destination on it. It was very challenging to make sure Mr. Mills didn't see me and say, 'Hey Jones-ey! Why aren't you in class? Let me see your hall pass.' Then he'd shake his finger at me and make me go to class...How irritating."
"Translation: You were skipping class."
"Okay. But you don't get it. The whole point is the teachers loved me. Bookworm gets that from me...."
Gentle Reader, I fear it is difficult to keep him on subject at times...
Monday, September 20, 2010
Pan Fried Sweet Potatoes
I bought some sweet potatoes on impulse the other day. They were nowhere to be found on the planned menu. But I do love sweet potatoes, so I snatched them up. The girls? Not so much. And that is sad, Gentle Reader. Quite Sad.
So, in an effort to make them more appealing to them, I decided to try a new twist on them. Did I take a picture? No. I did however eat myself sick on them, so I figure that's a pretty good recommendation if there ever was one!
Of course, I found this recipe, but I didn't have all of the ingredients, so I altered it. That and it said to put 1/4 inch of oil in the bottom of the pan, which I found absolutely ridiculous. sos, clearly their recipe was a good foundation for me, but it was simply crying out to be altered....This is my version of the recipe.
Pan Fried Sweet Potatoes
Sweet Potatoes, peeled and diced
Canola Oil
Cajun Seasoning
Salt
Cayenne Pepper
Brown sugar
Butter
Heat canola in a large skillet. I just used enough to coat the bottom well. Place sweet potatoes and salt to taste. Add Cajun seasoning to taste (the original called for Mrs Dash. I don't own that, and thought Cajun seasoning sounded good). I really just eyeballed the amount...After a few minutes, turn your potatoes. You want them to be good and crispy before you turn them. Reduce heat. When potatoes are done on both sides, drain off the excess oil. Spread pats of butter around on the pan, then sprinkle on the cayenne and brown sugar (1 tsp per potato.) Continue to fry until the sugar starts to recrystallize and serve these babies up!
It was fabulous. Seriously.
Fabulous.
I was very sparing with the cayenne, as I had used Cajun seasoning at the beginning and I just wanted a hint of heat behind the sweet. I think I used maybe 3 pinches of cayenne sprinkled over 5 potatoes. A little more would have been okay, but the girls don't like things as spicy, so adapt this to suit your family.
Not to brag, but this was truly, truly, truly one of the best ways I've ever eaten sweet potatoes, hands down.
So GO!!!
Buy some sweet potatoes!
Fry 'em up!
You'll be glad you did.
Oh, and just out of sense of fairness, here's the link to the original recipe.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The Post in Which I Reveal My Inherent Evilness
First before we begin my tale of inherent wickedness, let's discuss the above photo taken 2 years ago...When did this child suddenly start to go from the above to THIS?
Wednesday night was like any other Wednesday around this place. I got home about 8:30 after choir practice. I pulled into our driveway, and saw Studmuffin at the kitchen sink. "Oh, he's washing dishes. How sweet! Makes my heart go quiver..."
I pulled on into the garage, and he met me at my door. He had a very sly smile on his face. "Oh, now I understand!" my inner dialogue continued..."He's filling up my love tank and making sure I see all that he has done...I suppose I may reward him. Even though I didn't get a nap today." (Just keepin' it real, people)
I open my door. "What's up?"
"We've had a death in the family..."
Sadly, Gentle Reader, I immediately understood what he meant. I let out a whoop of joy and sang a little song, "Ding dong the gerbil's dead! The stinky gerbil's dead!"
Okay. Maybe that part didn't really happen, but it might as well have Gentle Reader...It might as well have.
"What did Bookworm say? Was she devastated?"
"I haven't told her. I was putting her in bed and said, 'So, is that rat dead yet?' Then, I turned around and saw Ava belly up in her cage. I picked it up and started carrying the cage out and Bookworm said, 'Oh! Thanks for cleaning my cage, Daddy!' The cage is on the dining room floor right now."
"You have to tell her!"
"No! She will have a total meltdown! I'm cleaning out the cage, getting rid of the gerbil, and I'll tell her in the morning."
Well, Gentle Reader, I convinced him of the wisdom of telling her that evening, even if it was late, so we could get the drama over with at night instead of just before climbing on the bus...
And was there drama!!!
Drramaaaaa llama!
Weeping.
Wailing.
Gnashing of teeth.
I cuddled. I stroked her hair. I felt horrible that she was so sad that the darn rat was dead...
Because at the same time that I was singing the Hallelujah chorus in my head that I never had to listen to that darn gerbil chewing at night. And running on it's wheel... All. Night. Long....
Aaaand I cuddled some more...
"Mommy? I think we need to bury Ava."
Crud...."Really? Where?" *Sigh* This is ridiculous...
"In the garden! She will decompose and turn into humus and that is great for the soil!"
I burst into laughter...She started laughing....
"Baby, I'm sorry, but I'm NOT burying Ava in the garden. Ick. I just can't think of decomposing gerbil under my tomato plants!"
She agreed with me, and we decided to send her daddy out in the dark to bury the gerbil under a tree...
And we kissed goodnight.
I went to the living room and discovered that I had forgotten to dvr Survivor.
I wept.
I wailed.
I gnashed my teeth...
Then I remembered I could watch it online the next night, and so I was over it. I sat down to see what else there was to see....
And I heard more wailing....
Okay. Have I ever told you that if you want sympathy, you really shouldn't have a nurse for a mommy? Just ask my kids...
Because. Seriously. It's a rodent, people...And, as much as I love my daughter, I understand her love of drama. And her love of total emotional exaggeration. There is the teeniest tiniest possibility that it could come from my side of the family...But just a tiny chance, mind you...
I went to her room. I handed her "By the Shores of Silver Lake" by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and I said, "Read this. Get your mind off of the gerbil. Go to sleep."
And I thought that was that....
Until we had a ladies' tea at church Thursday and one of her teachers asked if we had a funeral for the gerbil...
"How do you know about that?"
"Oh, she had a total meltdown in class about it today..."
Great.
Apparently, it went something like this, "My gerbil died last night....I didn't get any sleep...I'm tired and I can't stop thinking about it."
Such drama.
It. Is. Exhausting.
Being dramatic, that is.
Not that I know anything about that....
One Thing Leads to Another
Hmmm. Where did this picture come from? I did not mean to upload it to my blog...I know Bookworm snapped this shot the other day as the birds were bathing in our castle moat...
This last week I felt puny... I hate feeling puny. I hate how I fall behind on my housework, and I tend to feed my kids bowls of cereal and corn dogs and frozen pizza for dinner...Because I'm too crummy feeling to do anything else.
Well, Saturday, the switch flipped. I felt better. I had taken a 30mg pseudoephedrine pill at about 10am. It was in full force by 1pm. Studmuffin was out cleaning the pool, so the girls could have one last hoo-rah before we close it. (Uh, yeah, the water was too cold and they only stayed in maybe 5 minutes). Anyhoo, while he was outside, I had a burst of energy.
Did I go clean out my garden of weeds? No.
The cause of my invalideness lately (I love creating new words) is ragweed. Outdoors was not an appealing option.
I decided that while I love my house, it needs some change. Specifically Popcorn's room. She has a 12x12 room with a queen size bed. Can you imagine it is crowded in there? Especially considering that organization and tidiness are not in her repertoire. Naturally, I have a solution! Take apart the bunk beds in Bookworms room and get rid of that big bed!
WAIT!
I can't do that. I don't have another bedroom, and someone is forever coming to visit me (which I love) so I obviously need that big bed.
Hmmm....What to do. Whattodo...
What. To. Do.
There I was. Energized. Ready to do work. Snot running out my nose like a river and a voice like a 4 pack per day smoker of 30 years...Jumping out of my skin from the lovely cold medicine that was giving me a false sense of feeling betterness....
Obviously this required drastic measures, people
I did what any sane, hopped up on cold medicine woman who is used to moving at least every 4 years and has been in the same house with the same furniture in the same arrangement for over 2 years.
I rearranged my living room. Which lead to dusting every single surface. And vacuuming off every piece of furniture as well as under it...
Which lead to my ultimate goal:
No, no, no. Not getting rid of the bed. Although that is still a goal. Just not the ultimate goal. Please. Try to keep up.
I have this beautiful solid cherry roll top desk. Strangely, it was the very first piece of furniture we bought as a couple. It has been moved to 4 different abodes, not counting it's original delivery...Which I don't count because WE didn't move it!
It has been in my bedroom since we moved into this house. Because that's where I thought I wanted it when the movers brought it in.
Then, I decided, NO. I did not want it there. But it is large. Heavy. Awkward to move. So it stayed put. I griped about it. I begged to get rid of it along with the desktop computer. Who needs a desktop? Let's go all laptop baby! Who needs a bulky desktop cluttering up their life? Besides, the roll top desk is code for "stuff all your paper work that needs sorted in it and close it..."
So. The desk was on my nerves. Popcorn's too big bed was on my nerves. Obviously, her bed has to stay put...
And also obviously the best time to move a heavy large piece of furniture is when your husband is otherwise occupied and unable to nay say you during a chemically induced afternoon of mania.
So. I rearranged my bedroom. I dusted all of the furniture. I vacuumed...I got the desk as far as I could manage.
Which wasn't very far. Granted, I had it on sliders, but there is a piano in our living room. That is NOT on sliders. It had to be moved to get the desk through the hallway door.
I had to call in the recruits.
Err, recruit.
Okay. I had to admit to my hubby what I had started before I was finished. He walked in the house to find an end table in the middle of the room with the lamp on it...My great great grandmother's dining room table was moved out of it's original spot. The couches were askew. Cushions were on the floor...
"Ooookayeeee. What's up, Babe?" Don't you love how he calls me Babe, even when he knows I probably started something he won't like? Translation: He never likes change. He is almost always certain it will "never work."
"That desk will not fit in this living room. It will be too much furniture. I will just sell it. I'm going to put it in the OEC newsletter for best offer....Why did you start this today?" yada yada yada...
However, he helped me move the desk. After all, I'd come that far on my own, and he knew I'd just injure myself if he didn't step in.
We started the desk out the bedroom door. We scratched the door. I will not type the word that he uttered. This is a PG blog, but you can imagine the words that he let drop.
Oops.
But, we succeeded! We got the desk out of our room where I thought it was doomed to stay forever, and it now has a new, possibly temporary home in our living room...
And, I only have one stray end table left complete with a lamp that I bought at a garage sale for $1. I think it was a moment of garage sale mania...That's my only excuse. I saw it, and literally thought, "That lamp is hideous. Yet, I like it. I think I will buy it. After all, I need a taller lamp on the table in our den." And, I haven't managed to replace it yet. Oh, and the end table? It's the very same end table that was my mother-in-law's when Studmuffin was growing up.
I fear my house is overflowing with "heritage"furniture that I'm doomed to be stuck with through all eternity...Or at least until my kids move out and I generously give it to them out of the never-ending fount of kindness that is my heart...
Oh, and just in case you think the lamp was a strange once in a lifetime aberration that I suffered, allow me to introduce you to my pig...Why did I buy him? I have no idea. I saw him, and thought, "That is one ugly pig. Yet, I love the colors. And that ribbon on the tale. Oh! It's a dollar! I must have it!" And, it now sits on the floor of my house. The location has changed, but every time I start to get rid of it, I get a chuckle out of it's cute patchwork ugliness, and it stays...
Now. Is that picture not worth the 25 minutes of your day you thought were wasted reading this incredibly long post?!!
You're welcome. Again, the never-ending fount of kindness that is my heart is here to pour out love and generosity on the less fortunate souls who actually have stuff to do besides create work for themselves...
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
What is Happening in My Living Room Right Now.
Studmuffin is cleaning a gun.
Popcorn is practicing handstands, cartwheels, and walking on her hands. So far I've managed to keep her from doing front flips. We still have 2 weeks before she can do contact sports. None of these are true contact activities, right?
Oh, and just so y'know...Those people who said you never recover your previous level of energy after mono need to come meet my youngest. If this is decreased energy I shudder to think of a higher level!
Bookworm is watching Wipeout and cackling uproariously.
Oh. Lovely. Studmuffin just literally hiked his leg to better let rip a gargantuan gas bomb...
Why do men do that?
I am staring at my computer blankly. Because I'm tired and my creative juices are nonexistent.
Then, I looked around me and realized reality is pretty entertaining.
Popcorn is practicing handstands, cartwheels, and walking on her hands. So far I've managed to keep her from doing front flips. We still have 2 weeks before she can do contact sports. None of these are true contact activities, right?
Oh, and just so y'know...Those people who said you never recover your previous level of energy after mono need to come meet my youngest. If this is decreased energy I shudder to think of a higher level!
Bookworm is watching Wipeout and cackling uproariously.
Oh. Lovely. Studmuffin just literally hiked his leg to better let rip a gargantuan gas bomb...
Why do men do that?
I am staring at my computer blankly. Because I'm tired and my creative juices are nonexistent.
Then, I looked around me and realized reality is pretty entertaining.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
A Letter to Olay
Dear Olay,
I love you. I love the smell of you. Did you know that is what initially led to my love affair with you? It's true. A few years ago when I started to notice that the Grand Canyon started to develop on my forehead as the result of a hideous sunburn I received in my mid 20s, I decided I could do with some firming cream...
I remembered that Grandma Irene used you. I remembered watching her spread your pink creaminess on her soft face, and I loved to kiss her cheek just after using you... I loved the smell of that cheek, and I loved my grandma, and I determined that when I got old I was going to use you so I could be a wonderful grandma, and beautiful, and then I would smell beautiful too...
Only I discovered "old" was relative...Plus, I had decided to emulate Grandma Irene not only on her choice of beauty products, but on her determination to never have gray hair until the age of 80...I was determined to fight every sign of aging within my power...From wiry curly gray hairs that are determined to stick straight up off of my head, to craters developing in my forehead...
I decided to try you, back in the day when you were still "Oil of Olay." Only now, you have decided that having "Oil" in your name hinted at sliminess and blackheadiness, and all sorts of unsightliness, so you changed your name...
But I have remained faithful to you, my beloved. I have purchased you with diligence and regularity...
Only now, as I age even more, I'm beginning to depend even more heavily on you, my beloved soft smelling pink creamy friend...I have expanded from using you sparingly on my forehead and eye area, to covering my entire face...And now my neck. Should I have lavished you there sooner? Would that have stopped the wrinkles that appear like the folds of the Saggy Baggy Elephant if I turn my head?
And now I have even begun to generously apply you to my chest...When did that skin lose it's firm freckliness? It has instead become freckled and wrinkled...
Sigh...
So, last night as I lavishly spread you onto my cratered forehead, my crows feet eyes, and my Saggy Baggy Elephant neck, then down to my freckly, wrinkly chest, I began to ponder...
What other areas do I need to expand your use too? What about that crazy fold of skin on my elbow? The unfortunate dimple-age on my upper thighs? Will you firm up the loose skin on my abdomen that has stretched to carry two babies? Will you halt the progression of "game show contestant flap" on my upper arms? Your lovely little jar proclaims you to be "night firming cream." Will you firm up other areas of my body as well as my face? Should I perhaps forsake the Jergens Ultra Healing lotion that I currently use as it is the only lotion that does not cause hives to appear all over my body, and begin to fill my bathtub with you and soak in you every night for at least 45 minutes before turning in?
You see, you are definitely my beloved cream. I will remain faithful to you. I will never leave you nor forsake you, and may my skin deal with me ever so severely if I ever do...
I just need to know if I need to buy stock so that I can perhaps reap a profit from the giant vats I'm foreseeing in my future to control the aging process...
I love you. I love the smell of you. Did you know that is what initially led to my love affair with you? It's true. A few years ago when I started to notice that the Grand Canyon started to develop on my forehead as the result of a hideous sunburn I received in my mid 20s, I decided I could do with some firming cream...
I remembered that Grandma Irene used you. I remembered watching her spread your pink creaminess on her soft face, and I loved to kiss her cheek just after using you... I loved the smell of that cheek, and I loved my grandma, and I determined that when I got old I was going to use you so I could be a wonderful grandma, and beautiful, and then I would smell beautiful too...
Only I discovered "old" was relative...Plus, I had decided to emulate Grandma Irene not only on her choice of beauty products, but on her determination to never have gray hair until the age of 80...I was determined to fight every sign of aging within my power...From wiry curly gray hairs that are determined to stick straight up off of my head, to craters developing in my forehead...
I decided to try you, back in the day when you were still "Oil of Olay." Only now, you have decided that having "Oil" in your name hinted at sliminess and blackheadiness, and all sorts of unsightliness, so you changed your name...
But I have remained faithful to you, my beloved. I have purchased you with diligence and regularity...
Only now, as I age even more, I'm beginning to depend even more heavily on you, my beloved soft smelling pink creamy friend...I have expanded from using you sparingly on my forehead and eye area, to covering my entire face...And now my neck. Should I have lavished you there sooner? Would that have stopped the wrinkles that appear like the folds of the Saggy Baggy Elephant if I turn my head?
And now I have even begun to generously apply you to my chest...When did that skin lose it's firm freckliness? It has instead become freckled and wrinkled...
Sigh...
So, last night as I lavishly spread you onto my cratered forehead, my crows feet eyes, and my Saggy Baggy Elephant neck, then down to my freckly, wrinkly chest, I began to ponder...
What other areas do I need to expand your use too? What about that crazy fold of skin on my elbow? The unfortunate dimple-age on my upper thighs? Will you firm up the loose skin on my abdomen that has stretched to carry two babies? Will you halt the progression of "game show contestant flap" on my upper arms? Your lovely little jar proclaims you to be "night firming cream." Will you firm up other areas of my body as well as my face? Should I perhaps forsake the Jergens Ultra Healing lotion that I currently use as it is the only lotion that does not cause hives to appear all over my body, and begin to fill my bathtub with you and soak in you every night for at least 45 minutes before turning in?
You see, you are definitely my beloved cream. I will remain faithful to you. I will never leave you nor forsake you, and may my skin deal with me ever so severely if I ever do...
I just need to know if I need to buy stock so that I can perhaps reap a profit from the giant vats I'm foreseeing in my future to control the aging process...
Friday, September 10, 2010
My Dog is Determined to Die a Traumatic Death...
Or at the very least have me die of a heart attack....
I'm sure all of you remember our harrowing experience last Thanksgiving. If you feel compelled to refresh your memory, you can click here to read the entire drawn out ordeal of mental anguish and suffering she caused me...
On Monday morning, Bookworm and I decided to go for a ride. My dad asked if we would mind riding through the cattle near his house. Our goal was to count 86 grown and 76 calves...
We headed off to do our duty, and of course Kelsey decided to accompany us. I told her to go home, but really, I only have so much ability to enforce her leaving while I'm up on the horse, And since I was too lazy to go back home and tie her up, I decided she'd be fine. She had been around cattle before, and knew to not chase them and pretty much stay out of their way.
As I got off and opened the gate, I noticed a black calf watching the dog. Sure enough, as soon as we got through the gate, he chased after Kelsey. She quickly ducked back under the fence and out of harms way. She then followed us up the fence line until she was safely away from her 400 pound attacker and trotted back up to our horses...
Where she was fine as long as she was diligent enough to stay close to us the cattle would watch her, but not approach...
You realize some things are just so tempting that they override common sense, right?
Well, a jack rabbit jumped up in front of us, and of course Kelsey tore after it...But, she quickly spun around and ran right back to us when a cow took off after her! I chuckled and tried to keep a closer eye on her, and keep my horse between her and any cattle that seemed bent on removing the four legged canine threat from their herd...
Well, Bookworm had counted 51 calves, and I had 53 cows and 1 bull, when we noticed that the rest of the herd were north and west of the pond where the gate is to go into the remaining pasture land Dad has this particular herd on....This is the pond that my brother and nephew happened to be hunting around, and as I know Appy to be acutely terrified of guns, and I did not desire to test Sugar's tolerance of fire arms with my sweet baby on her back, we decided to ditch our assigned duty and return home...
Well, as we returned home, Kelsey got comfortable in her surroundings and anticipated where we were going. Consequently, before I knew it she was quite a ways in front of me...By the way, how far is "a ways?" I'm totally unsure. I'm pretty sure it's improper grammar, but this is a blog, not an English paper, and "a ways" is truly how far she had gone...In this case I will clarify it to be maybe 50 yards or so...
I noticed the black calf that Dad surely needs to wean, watching her...I had just began to mentally debate what was about to occur when the scenario played out...
The calf tore after Kelsey...
Kelsey panicked.
She was right along the fence line, but instead of darting under it, she turned to her right...
Directly into the herd.
Did you know that cattle consider dogs a threat? My heart leaped into my throat as I saw about 6 cows immediately begin to charge and circle around her...
Remember Appy? He's all of 28 years old. Well, apparently if you kick him hard enough and start to yell at the cattle, he responds rather quickly...I didn't know he & I could still sort cattle off so quickly, or that Kelsey would so quickly understand that she needed to keep the horse between her and the cattle...And she tore back to the house like as fast as her little legs would carry her.
Gentle Reader, please do not be overly impressed with my sorting abilities...It was all over with very quickly. I think the cattle were startled to have the horse go from a calm walk to tearing up to them, so they all decided to get going while the getting was good...
I'm sure the entire episode was over in a few seconds...And I was shaking when it was all said and done...
I breathed a gigantic sigh of relief...
Then I heard a voice yelling "Mooooommiiiiiiieee!"
I looked behind me, and there was my precious child with her horse running up to me, and the reins both on the left side....
Apparently, Bookworm decided that she did not want to see Kelsey die a horrible death, and she had closed her eyes...
Of course when Appy & I took off, Sugar did not want to be left out of the fun, so she shook her head and took off...Flipping the right rein over her head, and leaving Bookworm uncertain of what to do but yell for her mother...
Of course, the horse stopped as soon as she reached her destination...
And we had a safety lesson on never closing your eyes, keeping a tight grip on the reins, and remembering to drag the horses head to your knee if they ever try to run off with you...
After we got home, we unsaddled the horses and laid on the ground with the dog, hugging her neck and telling her how stupid she was for pulling stunt like that.
I'm sure all of you remember our harrowing experience last Thanksgiving. If you feel compelled to refresh your memory, you can click here to read the entire drawn out ordeal of mental anguish and suffering she caused me...
On Monday morning, Bookworm and I decided to go for a ride. My dad asked if we would mind riding through the cattle near his house. Our goal was to count 86 grown and 76 calves...
We headed off to do our duty, and of course Kelsey decided to accompany us. I told her to go home, but really, I only have so much ability to enforce her leaving while I'm up on the horse, And since I was too lazy to go back home and tie her up, I decided she'd be fine. She had been around cattle before, and knew to not chase them and pretty much stay out of their way.
As I got off and opened the gate, I noticed a black calf watching the dog. Sure enough, as soon as we got through the gate, he chased after Kelsey. She quickly ducked back under the fence and out of harms way. She then followed us up the fence line until she was safely away from her 400 pound attacker and trotted back up to our horses...
Where she was fine as long as she was diligent enough to stay close to us the cattle would watch her, but not approach...
You realize some things are just so tempting that they override common sense, right?
Well, a jack rabbit jumped up in front of us, and of course Kelsey tore after it...But, she quickly spun around and ran right back to us when a cow took off after her! I chuckled and tried to keep a closer eye on her, and keep my horse between her and any cattle that seemed bent on removing the four legged canine threat from their herd...
Well, Bookworm had counted 51 calves, and I had 53 cows and 1 bull, when we noticed that the rest of the herd were north and west of the pond where the gate is to go into the remaining pasture land Dad has this particular herd on....This is the pond that my brother and nephew happened to be hunting around, and as I know Appy to be acutely terrified of guns, and I did not desire to test Sugar's tolerance of fire arms with my sweet baby on her back, we decided to ditch our assigned duty and return home...
Well, as we returned home, Kelsey got comfortable in her surroundings and anticipated where we were going. Consequently, before I knew it she was quite a ways in front of me...By the way, how far is "a ways?" I'm totally unsure. I'm pretty sure it's improper grammar, but this is a blog, not an English paper, and "a ways" is truly how far she had gone...In this case I will clarify it to be maybe 50 yards or so...
I noticed the black calf that Dad surely needs to wean, watching her...I had just began to mentally debate what was about to occur when the scenario played out...
The calf tore after Kelsey...
Kelsey panicked.
She was right along the fence line, but instead of darting under it, she turned to her right...
Directly into the herd.
Did you know that cattle consider dogs a threat? My heart leaped into my throat as I saw about 6 cows immediately begin to charge and circle around her...
Remember Appy? He's all of 28 years old. Well, apparently if you kick him hard enough and start to yell at the cattle, he responds rather quickly...I didn't know he & I could still sort cattle off so quickly, or that Kelsey would so quickly understand that she needed to keep the horse between her and the cattle...And she tore back to the house like as fast as her little legs would carry her.
Gentle Reader, please do not be overly impressed with my sorting abilities...It was all over with very quickly. I think the cattle were startled to have the horse go from a calm walk to tearing up to them, so they all decided to get going while the getting was good...
I'm sure the entire episode was over in a few seconds...And I was shaking when it was all said and done...
I breathed a gigantic sigh of relief...
Then I heard a voice yelling "Mooooommiiiiiiieee!"
I looked behind me, and there was my precious child with her horse running up to me, and the reins both on the left side....
Apparently, Bookworm decided that she did not want to see Kelsey die a horrible death, and she had closed her eyes...
Of course when Appy & I took off, Sugar did not want to be left out of the fun, so she shook her head and took off...Flipping the right rein over her head, and leaving Bookworm uncertain of what to do but yell for her mother...
Of course, the horse stopped as soon as she reached her destination...
And we had a safety lesson on never closing your eyes, keeping a tight grip on the reins, and remembering to drag the horses head to your knee if they ever try to run off with you...
After we got home, we unsaddled the horses and laid on the ground with the dog, hugging her neck and telling her how stupid she was for pulling stunt like that.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I Went on another fishing trip...
As usual, my sister's and I got together and conspired to descend on my mother en masse over Labor Day weekend. You know, because I'm sure she loves that we all come at one time and make her cook and clean and feed 20 some people every time a three day weekend rolls around...
Several of us decided to go fishing...My brother in law decided to let Popcorn drive. She only nearly drove off the road about 4 times...Not bad for an 8 year old town kid.
After we safely arrived at the creek where we planned to fish, I actually grabbed a pole and decided to try my luck....I cast at least 4 times before I decided that fishing was completely pointless, and I was never going to get anything, so I grabbed my trusty point and shoot camera and took off walking....
Because that's what I do on fishing trips. That, or take a nap, or read a book...It looks like those two little yayhoos weren't patient enough for fishing either...
Of course, this one was determined to fish. Especially since her cousins and uncle had gone crazy buying her more fishing gear for her birthday.
This kid is a professional fisherman...Or angler, or whatev'. The point his he dreams of growing up and fishing. That's all...I can't imagine an existence more tedious. But, he seems to thrive on it.
Moving on....
Why do these blue dragon flies always line up on grass? I've always wondered that.
I spotted some small mussel shells that still had both sides attached. That was always a real treat when I was little, so I grabbed them for the girls. Then I realized I was wearing yoga pants, so I had no pockets. I carried them cupped in my palm as I wandered down the creek bank.
I tried to shoot a picture of the minnows in the shallows. Of course they all swam away when I got up close. One of my favorite things about this creek as a kid was standing in it barefoot and feeling the minnows tickle my feet.
The plum thickets still had a few sand plums on them. I decided to eat this one...Yep, it was still tart. Have you ever noticed that it's almost impossible to spit out fruit that isn't ripe? It's like your whole mouth is sucked dry of any moisture and it becomes impossible to work up enough spit to spew out the unripe fruit...
Yes, I'm a real classy lady folks...Just in case you're interested, I have more interesting tales of adventures in spitting if you'll just be so kind as to click here...(I'm totally aware you won't click there, but I feel compelled to suggest it anyway.)
I was down on a sandy beach area, and I became aware of a quiet peeping sound behind me. I wondered what sort of baby birds were behind me, so of course I ventured into the reeds and cockle burs to see what I could see. The peeping stopped and I began to instead hear a bird make cries of distress up above me. I looked up and saw the quail you see above. Apparently, she didn't like me looking for her little babies in the tall grass. Of course I persevered. If I stood very still, the peeping would begin again, and I would move towards it...Aaaaand of course the peeping stopped, and the momma would begin to go crazy above me...I would wait some more, hear the small little sound again, and move another step towards it...And again, the peeping would cease, and the poor momma would exhaust herself trying to draw me up the bank and toward her...
I never did find the little quail. I'm sure they were no bigger than my thumb, and baby quail are expert at diving under grass and remaining motionless and all but invisible to predators eyes...
Of course, Studmuffin gave a shout of victory about the time I decided to give up, and I looked behind me and discovered he had headed downstream behind me, and finally had some luck...
On a somewhat unrelated note, Gentle Reader, I will tell you that when you decide to have a bathroom break in the pasture where you are certain your family is a long ways away, it is apparently inevitable that you will hear your children and their cousins tromping through the grass, straight for you...And, it is also certain that you will have been holding off on doing said task until your bladder is full to the point that it takes surely all of what seems like 5 minutes to finish, and you will not be able to get your pants up fast enough before they round the bend to the tree you are "resting" behind.
Not that I have any experience with the above situation...
Several of us decided to go fishing...My brother in law decided to let Popcorn drive. She only nearly drove off the road about 4 times...Not bad for an 8 year old town kid.
After we safely arrived at the creek where we planned to fish, I actually grabbed a pole and decided to try my luck....I cast at least 4 times before I decided that fishing was completely pointless, and I was never going to get anything, so I grabbed my trusty point and shoot camera and took off walking....
Because that's what I do on fishing trips. That, or take a nap, or read a book...It looks like those two little yayhoos weren't patient enough for fishing either...
Of course, this one was determined to fish. Especially since her cousins and uncle had gone crazy buying her more fishing gear for her birthday.
This kid is a professional fisherman...Or angler, or whatev'. The point his he dreams of growing up and fishing. That's all...I can't imagine an existence more tedious. But, he seems to thrive on it.
Moving on....
Why do these blue dragon flies always line up on grass? I've always wondered that.
I spotted some small mussel shells that still had both sides attached. That was always a real treat when I was little, so I grabbed them for the girls. Then I realized I was wearing yoga pants, so I had no pockets. I carried them cupped in my palm as I wandered down the creek bank.
I tried to shoot a picture of the minnows in the shallows. Of course they all swam away when I got up close. One of my favorite things about this creek as a kid was standing in it barefoot and feeling the minnows tickle my feet.
The plum thickets still had a few sand plums on them. I decided to eat this one...Yep, it was still tart. Have you ever noticed that it's almost impossible to spit out fruit that isn't ripe? It's like your whole mouth is sucked dry of any moisture and it becomes impossible to work up enough spit to spew out the unripe fruit...
Yes, I'm a real classy lady folks...Just in case you're interested, I have more interesting tales of adventures in spitting if you'll just be so kind as to click here...(I'm totally aware you won't click there, but I feel compelled to suggest it anyway.)
I was down on a sandy beach area, and I became aware of a quiet peeping sound behind me. I wondered what sort of baby birds were behind me, so of course I ventured into the reeds and cockle burs to see what I could see. The peeping stopped and I began to instead hear a bird make cries of distress up above me. I looked up and saw the quail you see above. Apparently, she didn't like me looking for her little babies in the tall grass. Of course I persevered. If I stood very still, the peeping would begin again, and I would move towards it...Aaaaand of course the peeping stopped, and the momma would begin to go crazy above me...I would wait some more, hear the small little sound again, and move another step towards it...And again, the peeping would cease, and the poor momma would exhaust herself trying to draw me up the bank and toward her...
I never did find the little quail. I'm sure they were no bigger than my thumb, and baby quail are expert at diving under grass and remaining motionless and all but invisible to predators eyes...
Of course, Studmuffin gave a shout of victory about the time I decided to give up, and I looked behind me and discovered he had headed downstream behind me, and finally had some luck...
On a somewhat unrelated note, Gentle Reader, I will tell you that when you decide to have a bathroom break in the pasture where you are certain your family is a long ways away, it is apparently inevitable that you will hear your children and their cousins tromping through the grass, straight for you...And, it is also certain that you will have been holding off on doing said task until your bladder is full to the point that it takes surely all of what seems like 5 minutes to finish, and you will not be able to get your pants up fast enough before they round the bend to the tree you are "resting" behind.
Not that I have any experience with the above situation...
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Best Fishing Trip EVER!!
A few weeks ago we went to my husband's folks to get some farming done. Of course, being my husband, no trip is complete without loading all of his fishing equipment and several guns.
We will not discuss the fact that he hit a rock with the sweep and tore it up when he only had 30 minutes of farming left to go. That is not a fun discussion, so we will pretend it didn't happen...
Instead we will discuss my version of fishing. My version of fishing does not involve fishing at all. The pasture he took us to takes about 10 minutes to drive into just to get to the fishing hole, and there are lovely red bluff canyons all through it. Of course I went hiking upstream.
As I was wandering, the frogs were splishing and splashing as they leaped into the water in front of me. Then, as I neared the fence line and a group of trees, I heard a big splashing sound. As in, that "has to be a mammal" splashing. I ventured closer, wondering what I was going to find. I wondered about beavers. Or even *shudder* rats. I thought it might be a coyote running through the tall reeds in front of me....
Then I heard this strange squeaking/meowing/growling sound. Now I had no clue what on earth would make such a bizarre sound, so I decided to head up the bank and out of the reeds, where I could only see right in front of me...Just in case it was a chupacabra bent on eating me, or some other deadly creature....
I got to the top of the bank and took a good gander at my surroundings, and guess what I saw?
A family of young raccoons!!!
How sweet is that!?
Did you know I have a child with even more limited patience than me? Isn't that unbelievable?
She heard my exclamation of surprise, ditched her pole that she was using to try and catch the giant turtle she had spotted, and came on a tear to see what I was up to. Of course, she wanted to go back down the bank and try to find the rest, since we could still hear something in the grassy reeds below us. I advised her not to try that since I was pretty sure momma raccoon was down below keeping an eye on her youngsters.
After we admired the little guys, we continued our hike. We hiked up and down and all around...Until we realized the rest of our little family was finished fishing...Then, we loaded up and headed out.
As we left, Popcorn said, "Mom, this was the best fishing trip ever."
And, I totally had to agree.
After we admired the little guys, we continued our hike. We hiked up and down and all around...Until we realized the rest of our little family was finished fishing...Then, we loaded up and headed out.
As we left, Popcorn said, "Mom, this was the best fishing trip ever."
And, I totally had to agree.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The SECOND First Day of School...
All of my little chickens are officially in school...
Please disregard her incredibly dry knees...She actually had her Doctor appointment that day. The doctor gave her a stern talking to about dry skin that will crack and bleed and leave scars...
I'm happy to report her knees are now nicely moisturized!
I'm happy to report her knees are now nicely moisturized!
In other news, I have lots to do today. You know I like lists, right?
What I need to do:
1. Plan this month's budget. Yes, I realize this is a tad late considering it's already the first.
2. Go to the bank.
3. Go to the store. My kids had to eat crackers with Nutella on it for breakfast. They LOVED this. I did not, as I fear they will be starving by lunchtime.
4. Clean the black raspberry jelly off of my dining room carpet. Popcorn had made herself some toast with the very last slice of bread, and dropped it face down...Of course.
5. Clean...When do I NOT need to clean?
6. Do laundry.
Now, I will provide you with the list of what I WANT to do:
1. Rip out my garden. I'm tired of it, and it's full of weeds anyway.
2. Rip out the carpet in my dining and living room. Who puts carpet in the dining room?
What my husband wants me to do today:
1. NOT rip out the carpet. He wants to "discuss" it some more...
Gentle Reader, may I remind you of our "discussions" in the past? They never accomplish anything. I finally went to the store and bought paint for my counters, and that scared the cash right out of him, and the next thing you know I have new counters and backsplash...
So you see, I feel compelled, nay OBLIGED to take action! It is the only sure way to prompt us into action!
Sidenote: He feels we will be cold in the winter with hard floors. I feel we should quit worrying so much about what might happen, and instead focus on my stained cream colored carpet in the dining room! Again I say, WHO PUTS CARPET IN A DINING ROOM!!!???
What I need to do:
1. Plan this month's budget. Yes, I realize this is a tad late considering it's already the first.
2. Go to the bank.
3. Go to the store. My kids had to eat crackers with Nutella on it for breakfast. They LOVED this. I did not, as I fear they will be starving by lunchtime.
4. Clean the black raspberry jelly off of my dining room carpet. Popcorn had made herself some toast with the very last slice of bread, and dropped it face down...Of course.
5. Clean...When do I NOT need to clean?
6. Do laundry.
Now, I will provide you with the list of what I WANT to do:
1. Rip out my garden. I'm tired of it, and it's full of weeds anyway.
2. Rip out the carpet in my dining and living room. Who puts carpet in the dining room?
What my husband wants me to do today:
1. NOT rip out the carpet. He wants to "discuss" it some more...
Gentle Reader, may I remind you of our "discussions" in the past? They never accomplish anything. I finally went to the store and bought paint for my counters, and that scared the cash right out of him, and the next thing you know I have new counters and backsplash...
So you see, I feel compelled, nay OBLIGED to take action! It is the only sure way to prompt us into action!
Sidenote: He feels we will be cold in the winter with hard floors. I feel we should quit worrying so much about what might happen, and instead focus on my stained cream colored carpet in the dining room! Again I say, WHO PUTS CARPET IN A DINING ROOM!!!???
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