What’s up with the menus…?

So, we went out to dinner tonight. Met some friends. Kids sat at a separate table. It was fabulous. I do have to ask this question, though…

…What's up with the menus?

I kid you not, the menu that I received was approximately 4 feet wide and 3 feet tall. You would have thought they were expecting a brood of far-sighted giants rather than the normal-sized, contacts wearing lot of us who were there. Had we so desired, we could have landed airplanes on those ridiculous things. The pictures of the food on the menu were as big as my entire head.

I would have been perfectly satisfied with a plain-old 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper with perhaps a nice font and short description of the items being served. Instead, I got a billboard. And not just ONE billboard, mind you. Each of us four adults received our own! Perhaps if they had mounted one on an easel in the opposite corner of the restaurant we would not have been stabbing each other in the eyes with all the opening and closing and twisting and excuse-me-please-would-you-scoot-your-chair-over-there-isn't-enough-room-here-for-my-MENU!!

Meanwhile, the children each received a tiny sliver of paper with two crayons to keep them occupied for the 65 minutes we waited for our food to arrive.

Here's a tip. Give the giant menus to the kids for scribbling. A modest sheet of paper will do for the rest of us.

Thank you.

And, if you want any more tips on how to run a restaurant….or airport….or kids coloring booth….just let me know. This timely advice is free to all.

Chats around the AMAs…

Last night after church, I snuggled up on the couch with the kids in front of the TV. There wasn't much on, so I decided to turn on the American Music Awards that I had recorded. Since we almost NEVER watch anything like this, I was hesitant but figured the pause/fast forward would come in handy. Boy did it ever! We were only able to watch about 15% of what the show had to offer, but I just had to share some of the keen observances the kids had.

Me: Okay guys, we can watch a little bit of this show until it gets weird. (Christina Aguilera's opening act was first.)

Carson (a mere 12 seconds later just after Christina freed herself of her modest coat to reveal whatever that was she was wearing underneath): Ok, Mom, I think it's getting weird.

 

Fast Forward to New Kids On The Block:

Me: Oh, hey, New Kids! These guys were really popular when I was in Jr. High.

Carson: They don't look like kids.

Avery: Yeah, are they gonna change their name?

 

Fast Forward to whoever it was that introduced Pink. I'm not sure who it was, but he had "issues":

Avery: Is he nervous?

Me (slightly under my breath): I think he's stoned.

Carson: What? He's moving. He's not stone!

Carson (a little later): Her name is PINK??

Avery: Is it because she wears pink all the time?

Me: I have no idea why her name is Pink.

 

Fast Forward through a few other award announcements and strange performances:

Avery (tenderhearted as ever): If we said we didn't like this to them would it hurt their feelings?

 

Fast Forward to Miley Cyrus:

Avery: I CAN'T BELIEVE HANNAH MONTANA IS REAL!!!!!!!

 

Fast Forward to Ashley Tisdale making an announcement:

Carson: She looks JUST LIKE Sharpay!

Me: She is Sharpay.

Carson: No she's not…she's BROWN! (I'm not sure if he was referring to her hair or to her spray tan, but clearly she could not have been Sharpay.)

Fun times in the Wal-Mart bathroom…(TMI alert)

Richie and I did the grocery run today. The last stop of the morning was Wal-Mart and by the time we got there, my breakfast smoothie had made its way to the exit and I had to use the facilities. Normally, I try to avoid such trips, but today it could not be helped. Richie happily tagged along after I promised we could go back and revisit the Lightning McQueen pillow that I peeled him away from.

I need to preface this story be letting you know that the kids had a little tummy trouble last week. I'm on high monitor for all restroom activities and have been asking all sorts of obnoxious mommy questions about the "status" of their goings. So, what follows is probably all my fault yet nevertheless embarrassing.

Richie requested to sit outside the restroom on the bench and wait for me, but I didn't trust the situation. So, he came in with me but opted to wait in the sink area. The restroom was empty so I felt it was ok. I mean, what in the world could he get into? In a public restroom. Out of my reach. Anyway…

Shortly, another woman entered. That's when Richie decided to start quizzing me. He asked, in loud echo-y fashion – "Mom, are you going POOP or PEE???"

SILENCE. Pretend he didn't just say that. Hope the lady next door didn't hear it.

Rich: "MOM! Are you going POOP or PEE???"

Me: "Can you just wait a minute please?"

Rich: "But are you going POOP or PEE???"

Me: "Richie, please. Be quiet."

Rich: "But MOM…are you going POOP or PEE???"

Me: (mortified) "Can we please just talk about it in a minute?"

Thankfully, he decided to end his line of questioning, but then decided to get down on the floor, peek under the stall door and announce, "Hey, Mom! I can SEEEEEE YOU!" I couldn't decide if I was more bothered that he was peeking in on me, that he was announcing it or that he was CRAWLING AROUND ON THE FLOOR OF THE PUBLIC RESTROOM!

Next time, I'm definitely bringing him all the way in with me. At least that way, I can physically hush him if he starts getting too nosey!

Sweetest thing ever…

If you had been at our house on this restful Sunday afternoon, you would have been delighted by the sweetness. I knew it was coming, but it was better than I anticipated.

Last night, Avery told me that she and Daddy were planning a garage sale that would be held in her bedroom. This came shortly on the heels of a discussion between her and me about making some space in her bedroom for some possible new toys she would receive at Christmas. I thought she and Daddy just might be doing a little re-organizing. But no, this was strictly for FUN.

After all had been prepped this afternoon, I heard the call from upstairs…"We need some customers!" When I topped the stairs, I saw this:

Now, seriously. Is that not the sweetest thing ever?? She had another one taped on the front of her bedroom door:

When I walked in, she had arranged everything just perfectly. There was music playing in the background. She had neatly displayed several outfits on her bed. All of the "bags" she had for sale were stacked neatly together. I was free to peruse her closet for anything I might want to purchase. There was even a neatly covered basket in the corner which contained items "not currently for sale." (In case you're wondering…her baby dolls.)

I dutifully played the role of interested and chatty neighbor. Even Carson got in on the action. He played the part of "George"…the old guy next door who traditionally comes by several times throughout the yard sale checking to see if anything new has been laid out. By the end of the 30-minute garage sale, he had made four stops at the sale and had spent approximately $624,332.12. It was not a cheap sale.

I also found out that Avery's dad was not married and did not have a girlfriend, so I took the opportunity to slip him my phone number. Wink, wink.

I know Avery had a wonderful time setting it all up with her Daddy and Carson did declare it was "the very best garage sale EVER." I have to agree. I scored a holiday Avon catalog, a stretchy yellow exercise band and a purple sweater Avery never wears for only a million bucks and one sweet kiss!

Why?

I have one day of the week when I can sleep in. It's called Saturday. Bless-ed Saturday. School isn't calling, church isn't calling. There is NOTHING calling me on Saturday mornings and one of my greatest delights is being up a tad late on Friday night knowing that on Saturday I can sleep in.

I'm not talking about the sleep in of my high school days when I would pop my eyes open around 9am and then just stare at the walls until I felt like getting up around 10am. I'm also not talking about the sleep in of my college days which consisted of finally rolling out of bed at 12:30pm just in time to hit the cafeteria before it closed for lunch. I'm talking about maybe an extra hour of sleep…..like waking up at the oh-so-late hour of perhaps 8am. I would even appreciate 7:30am.

My littlest, Richie, enjoys sleeping in every day. Such to the point that I have to physically drag him off of the top bunk at 6:50 each morning while he whines and cries and refuses to move even one muscle to help me get his sleepy behind up!

But on Saturdays? For the last three weeks IN A ROW, Richie has burst into my bedroom BEFORE 6:30am cheerful as ever and needing something right-that-minute from me.

WHY?????

His standard requests at this terrible hour are:

1. "Can I have a snack? " For which there are follow up request such as "I can't reach it!" And, "Can you open it for me? "
   
2. "I want to watch a show!"--which implies in MY bedroom while he sits on MY pillow with HIS blanket and all other manner of his comforty items. This also has the standard follow-up request of "Turn it up!" He could at least offer a "please"…right?
   
3. And today's request…"My controller is out of batteries." My response…"Get a different one." Seriously. I shouldn't have to walk him through that process at 6:30am on Saturday. It hearkens back to the morning of the "nunCHUNK" in the toilet.
   

Help. Me. Please!

I’ve been tagged…

I have tagged by one of my blogging friends, Me-Moddy. I'm not really sure what being "tagged" means. It's conjuring up images for me from elementary school that I'd rather just forget.

But being the good sport that I am, I have decided to play along…albeit a fortnight and then some overdue…sorry for the delay, Kara!

To participate in the tagging I believe I'm supposed to list six random things about myself. Feel free to grab a cup of coffee and settle in.

1. I skipped a grade. It was Kindergarten. You might think that since it was such an early grade that it doesn't count as really skipping a grade, but it does. I graduated from high school two weeks after my 17^th birthday. Yeah, I was always a young-un. Not only did I skip a grade, early on I was in a self-paced learning environment and soon paced myself right out of two additional grades of math. So, while my fellow 12 year olds were learning to use their protractors in sixth grade, I was in the 7^th grade getting my algebra on with the 9^th graders. Talk about not knowing where you belong! You might wonder what I've done in my life with all that early mathematical aptitude…well, aside from acing my university calculus course, pretty much absolutely nothing.
   

   
   

   And, in case you were wondering, I would not recommend allowing children to skip grades no matter how genius they may be. It gets to be a social quagmire right around jr. high. At least, I blame my personal awkwardness on being the youngest of my peers. But, perhaps it is just my awkwardness itself that should be blamed…I had more than my fair share, I think!
   

   
   

2. All of my children were born on Thursdays. Maybe just a coincidence, but special to me!
   
3. I border on Road Rage. I have several driving behavior pet peeves, but here are the three most likely to earn somebody a stare down.
   
   1. Driving under the speed limit. There is no excuse for this.
      
   2. Riding my bumper. I will brake randomly and suddenly. Be prepared.
      
   3. Driving in the left lane being passed by drivers on the right. Can you not see that people are passing you ON THE RIGHT??? Move over!!
      

   I feel like I need to repent after making this confession.
   

4. My dream job would be teaching. I taught two semesters at a local university a few years ago. Loved it.
   
5. Ironically, my nightmare job would be home-schooling.
   
6. In the five houses I've lived in since getting married, I've personally painted a total of 21 rooms. The most recent was my kitchen this past weekend which I have now painted twice.
   

There you have it. Six random things about me.

Perhaps I’ve taken it a bit too far…

My kids eat healthy (well, with the occasional exception of Richie who I trick into eating greens by buying the little veggie-gummies at the health food store). We eat veggies. Fruit. No high fructose corn syrup. No sugary juice. Natural peanut butter. Fish. Organic when reasonable. I think I've actually unintentionally offended some family members by my vigilance over what my children are allowed (or NOT allowed) to eat.

The kids have been so great about all the "healthies" I pack in their lunch box. Yes, they do get treats, but it's usually very special when we do.

But, something tells me I may have crossed some sort of line…the one that takes me just ever so slightly past "responsible mommy" over into "uh…dude…your mom's a total health freak."

Today was Domino's pizza day at school and Carson and Avery were both allowed to order a piece. I packed them fruit for snack and organic chocolate chip cookies for dessert. The first words out of Carson's mouth when I picked him up from school were…(in full whine) "MOOOOMMMMM…you didn't pack me any vegetables!!!" I didn't realize I was raising a full-on herbivore.

THEN…

5 minutes later in the same car ride, I told the kids we were getting Chinese for dinner. They were THRILLED. And, in my chipper, generous mood, I decided to announce that since it is Friday and they've had such a great first week of school that we are going to have SODA with our dinner. Richie shouted…"SODA???? What's SODA?"

I ain't lyin'.

I may have gone too far.

And so it begins…

…the beginning of the going away. My little girl is growing up and spreading her wings a little more tomorrow. As I tucked her in tonight, I prayed over her that her path would be smooth, that her mind would be open to all that God has for her and that her relationships would grow in new and exciting ways. Then, I got a little misty-eyed as I told her that this was her last night as a non-school girl…at least for the next 15 or so years. She snickered as if it was nothing. I set her alarm clock, turned on her music and gave her our traditional tickle. I kissed her goodnight and kissed a sweet goodbye to the way it's been since her birth.

Tomorrow, a new world begins.

Date night, second edition…

So, a few days after my first date night with Avery, I went out with one of my other favorite buddies, Carson. We decided to hit The Wal Mart again for school supplies, but chose one that we don't normally frequent. I was sure we'd be in and out in a flash like we were with Avery, but I think I have to say that The Wal Mart we went to might be one of the most dysfunctional and unorganized I've ever seen. I actually felt like I was in K-Mart…which I have found to be notoriously sloppy. And, of course the first grade list was substantially longer than the K list, so we were on the hunt for more obscure items such as Styrofoam spheres, legal-sized construction paper, and poster-board….any of which I could have found easily in my local Wal Mart, but which took us 3 laps and a host of blue-vested helpers to find. I couldn't even find the Wet Ones, for heavens sake and trust me, I'm normally able to sniff those out anywhere!

Once we had secured our 5 bags!!! of items, we headed out to the mall in search of a nice belt. Since he's required to wear a belt every day, it couldn't be just any belt. Last year's supposed "genuine leather" model from Target was shedding its evidently man-made outer lining toward the end of the year. I think we found one that'll work a little better.

Dinner at Nakato was in order…Carson loves the Hibachi grill and the Japanese noodles. And, with our bellies full, we headed to The Palace (land of the $2.50 movies) to watch the delightful Nim's Island—two Abigail Breslin movies in one week! That girl is so cute.

All in all, a SUPER date with my little man. Such a gentleman he was, opening doors using all of his manners. He even kissed me twice without prompting and told me that he loved me at dinner.

I can't believe his first "summer vacation" is coming to an end. The speed of life is beginning to startle me.

Date night, first edition…

I believe it's becoming a tradition….last week had two dates with two of my most favorite people! The school supply lists came in and so I scheduled solo Mommy Dates with Carson and Avery. Talk about fun!

First, I took Avery. She is what I describe as tentatively excited about Kindergarten. She knows her teacher (same angelic teacher Carson had last year) and so that helps. It also helps that her Big Brother will be right nearby to help her if she should have need of anything. She knows that she's supposed to be excited, but I don't know that it's quite sunk in for her yet how big and wonderful a change is around the corner.

Well, for our date night, we grabbed her school supply list and headed to The Wal-Mart. We had everything picked out in a matter of mere minutes. She was like lightning with her decisiveness. I'm pretty sure that everything that could be pink is pink - including her new monogrammed and personalized pink backpack and lunch box which we ordered online.

We jetted out of The Wal Mart up the road to The Mexican Restaurant where we thought it would be cool to sit on the same side of the booth like big girls. We shared cheese dip and tacos and on the way out, the cashier gave her a quarter to buy one of those gigantic hallow balls of purple bubble gum…which we rarely let the kids have…and which she later regretted saying it went bad too fast.

After that, we sped down to Branson to the only theatre in the area still showing Kit Kittredge: An American Girl. I highly recommend this movie to anyone with kids! It was fantastic. It'll definitely be on the "buy and watch a million times at home" list for when it comes out on DVD.

After securing our tickets, popcorn and M&Ms, we embarked down the hallway to our theatre. We were giddy that we were the only ones there! We marveled together at the idea of having the whole place to ourselves. Avery took her liberty and tried out nearly every seat in the room searching for the best view. Once she found it, I settled in while she ran up to the front of the theatre and began dancing to the movie commercial music – it was her usual Pre-school Hip-Hop meets Beginning Ballet routine.

I was delighted and as great as the movie was, I would have rather watched her all night. She is one of my best friends on earth. I couldn't be more thankful for the gift of mothering her. A true treasure of heaven right here in my own home. Amazing.

I wish I could take credit for this…

I hate role playing video games. You know, the ones where the players get sucked into some virtual reality where they have a little character who has some sort of "gift" (like healing or magic or the ability to turn living things into rocks…and what-have-you). And these little characters (and their owners) spend hours on end "upping" their skills and their level by sitting around virtually practicing their particular craft (such as making bows and arrows, leatherworking, or perhaps needlepoint). Then they run around the virtual countryside and pick fights with one another.

It's a completely ridiculous notion of how to spend one's free time – in my opinion.

I could go on and on and on about how and why I loathe such forms of entertainment, but that would leave you bored and me breathless, so I'll move on to the funny part….

Richard has been playing what I consider a cousin to the role playing games described above. He and his buddy get "online" at nighttime, don their headphones and little microphones and join each other out on some military expedition two or three nights a week. I don't think you level, rather you get a score for how many people you take out…evidently. There's quite a lot of shooting and bombing noises and the whole thing can be rather graphic and alarming.

It's not as heinous as some other games I've observed, but nevertheless….time wasted – in my opinion.

The game is called Call of Duty.

Richard informed me that earlier this week little Richie has been talking about the game.

Richie calls it "Cock-A-Doodie."

Seriously, I can't take credit for that, but oh I wish I could!

It's a brilliant insight for a little 3-year-old don't you think?

Expressive, much?

Avery's been really impressing us with her vocabulary lately. Here are a couple of recent samples:

"Mom, these green beans are the Holy Spirit. They are SO GOOD!"

And, just this morning….

"Mom, if you heat up strawberry milk, that is GYMNASTICS. I love it!!"

Richard has always said that it doesn't really matter what words or random grunts you use to communicate. As long as the recipient understands your meaning, then your attempt to convey meaning has succeeded.

So true.

A’s birthday party…

I was waiting to post on this until I had a few pictures to go along with the comments. I still have no idea how to work our new camera. I should have stuck with the old one.

Our baby girl turned 5 years old earlier this month and to celebrate we had a few of her friends over for an Olympics-themed party. Our kids have never seen the Olympics before and I tend to really get into watching them, so this was a fun little primer for the festivities in August!

As each of the children arrived, we asked them to choose a country that began with the first letter of their first name which they would represent in the games. Most of the children chose a normal-ish country such as Kenya, China, Mexico. We did have one little squirrel that announced his country was Djibouti. And, of course we all had great fun yelling Ja-Booty all day long. In fact, I still call him Ja-Booty….three weeks later.

In preparation for the opening ceremony, we also asked each child to name three things that they are really good at or enjoy very much. We used these pronouncements to introduce each of them and it went a little something like this:

(Olympic theme song playing in the background for full effect)...Introducing KEONA from KENYA!! Keona is a world champion ballerina, a colorer beyond compare and she is great at "imaginating!!" Then we would all clap and cheer as she marched around the swing set. You should have seen their little faces when they were marching around and everyone was cheering. It was so cute! They all looked so proud.

After that, we had four or five games all planned out by fabulous Daddy….soccer kicks, 50 yard dash, golf, and the water relay. We had to call it quits a little earlier than we had planned because the children were not doing so well in the heat. I certainly didn't want anyone fainting on my watch, so we headed inside for cake and gifts and then back out again for the medal ceremony.

All in all it was a great day! Lots of memories and silly moments. Here are a few pics:

A year’s not a long time…if you’re a tree

About a year ago….well, 14 months to the day to be EXACT….I started a little painting project in the house. Not really thinking ahead at the time, I was only able to conquer one wall of our living area before I thought, "Hey, there's a vault in here. Hmm…I don't think I can reach that." Yeah. Not much foresight there. So, after enduring half-painted walls for 14 months which included a lovely piece of blue masking tape up in the hallway ceiling for yes 14 months we finally hired the work out.

Brilliant. I love it.

The walls are now a lovely bluish color – Sherwin Williams Silvermist. Thanks to my ever-encouraging girlfriends, I decided to go with a non neutral and I am SO GLAD!!! Blue is my favorite color. It makes me the happiest. It feels great to have it accomplished.

Now, I get to re-decorate! I'm looking online for some of my other favorites to pull everything together…white McCoy pottery and maybe our first foray into "real" art! Check back in around August '09. Maybe I'll have it finished by then!

Oh and HEY…just as an update…as of today, items one through five on this list have all been FIXED! Yeah!!!

Mrs. Safety – Does she wear a cape?

So, just a short while back we adventured with two dear, dear friends Heather and Natalie and their babes down to The Land of Really Bad Bathing Suits and Hideous Sunburns (a.k.a. White Water). It was the first trip in memory for all of our kids.

Heather and I arrived first in full mommy mode. We were ready for a lovely day and had 5 excited kids in tow. We yelled traumatic warnings as the kids tried to dash through the parking lot in their excitement. We followed our loud STOP STOP STOP warnings with eye to eye lessons on the dangers of running in the lot AND not always IMMEDIATELY stopping when they hear our voices. We fed the children a picnic lunch with not a stitch of un-healthy - you know, natural peanut butter, carrots, cheese and the like. We slathered them with enough sunscreen to keep the sun out for a decade, made sure every non-swimmer had a perfectly fitting life jacket and then headed over to the little tikes area.

The water was cold, but the children seemed to be having a blast with the little sprinklers and the four small, age-appropriate slides. There were no tears, all felt safe and secure and there was fun being had all around.

Enter Natalie. If you don't know Natalie, picture boundless sunshine, fun on wheels and reckless abandon. She the type that wet-willies your children, lets her kids have small rodents in the house and actually enjoys camping. As Heather and I are leading the kids out of the little tikes area (to find another little tikes area to shake things up a bit), we meet Natalie who had come to find us. I'm pretty sure she said – what are you all doing over here?? Let's head to the BIG SLIDES!!! At this point, I think my adrenaline rushed just a bit. I've been on the big slides. My children? – Um…no. She suggested the family slide where we all go down in a giant tube together. I thought that sounded nice and kept me within arm's reach of each of my younguns, so we headed off (after another application of sunscreen and a 7-child potty break that lasted roughly a half hour!).

After the family slide went well, Natalie says, Hey Guys! How about we go on the big ones?! You can go down BY YOUR SELF!!! Right then I'm pretty sure I morphed into full-on Mrs. Safety and if I'd had one handy I would have donned my cape. I immediately experienced the horror in my mind of shoving my precious, priceless children down a slippery, dark, terrifying hole BY THEMSELVES. I could already hear the screaming and trauma in my head. I'm nervous, I'm scared, but Natalie leads on. Carson comes up the hill carrying his own tube and grinning ear to ear. Avery wants to go too, so after waiting my turn at the bottom catching all the kids (and seeing that Carson didn't come out upside down), Avery, Richie and I head up to check out the all-open slide. Avery went down by herself and was quite a trooper. Richie and I rode together and all was well. Whew, ok. We can do this.

I was thinking it might be fun to try that again, but no, that wasn't fun enough for Natalie. No, no. We had to step it up even more. It was as if she wasn't going to be satisfied until we had all peed our suits in terror and then we could laugh all the way home about it. She suggests we all attempt the Bermuda Triangle. Passing by the sign, I notice the height requirement. None of mine are tall enough. Nat says, Aw, Come-on…they never check that stuff. Uhh…..ok. Well, I say THIS SLIDE IS A LEVEL FOUR!! The last one was just a three. I'm not so sure about this. At this point, Nat begins teasing me and reading all other warnings on the sign (like the one about being under 300 lbs – Hey Kids, make sure you're not overweight! Ha ha!). Great. Now I'm scared and I'm being mocked. What fun! J There were also no doubles allowed on this ride, so the kids had to go by themselves. They wanted to. But they had no idea what they were getting into.

At Natalie's urging (and mocking), I let them go against my better judgment. Carson loved it. Avery….not so much. She was screaming as she came out of the slide. Rather than give the official Mrs. Safety I Told You So to my friend, I focused my energy on assuring Avery of how proud I was of her being SO SO brave.

Thankfully, the smaller ones were getting restless, so we headed back over for snacks and the little play area. At the end of the day, we tried one more slide. It was the one the put us all over the edge. It was what has infamously been called simply "the white slide" in our house. Since it was a partially open slide, I thought it couldn't be worse than the all-enclosed Bermuda Triangle that the kids did earlier. Perhaps I was wrong. Carson, the daredevil was ready to go! Avery was trembling at the top of the slide and I had to physically place her in the tube and – again, against the code of Mrs. Safety, push her into the dark. I was so concerned that I really didn't have time to mess with Richie who was outright SCREAMING that he didn't want to go down with me. I shoved him into my lap and pushed off as fast as they'd let us.

That slide scared the beee-jeeeebers out of me. Richie and I were both traumatized. He screamed the whole way down and for 30 minutes after. When we got to the bottom, Avery was screaming as well….she had been helped out of her tube by the life guard who evidently asked repeatedly "WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER??" while I was trying to get down to her.

I did learn a few lessons that day:

1. It can be life-giving to have fun friends who push you to do things you might not normally consider.
   
2. When your mom alarm goes off – before shutting things down, consider if this might not be an opportunity for growth.
   
3. When your mom alarm starts screaming blazing blaring – say no.
   
4. When Mrs. Safety goes to the water park she should never, and I repeat NEVER forget her cape!

Where have you been?

It's the question I've heard often recently. Yes, I realize I've dropped off the bloggy planet. Yes, I have good reasons…well, sorta. And, yes, I know you miss me. At least some of you do.

So, I hope to be better now that summer is upon us and theoretically that means all sorts of time to do nothing other than blog. There has been MUCH that has happened over the last few weeks while I've been away. I'm going to do my best to give a quick recap here. To delve into it all as deeply as I might normally, would be too laborious for me as well as for you, dear gracious reading friend. It may take you a few days to read all of this, but that's okay right? Just making up for lost time! So, in my best attempt at the correct chronological order, may I present to you….what's been UP while I've been OUT?

1. I'll just get this out of the way up front. The main reason I dropped off the planet was due to this thing called "my job" and an immense amount of pressure that came up right around the beginning of May. I'm so thankful for my job but I'm WAY more thankful God is with me through all sorts of situations. I nearly like-ta-have-croaked with that one. But, it's over now! (I think.) I'm still working, just not dying.
   
2. American Idol – David Cook was my fave from the beginning. Loved the crossword puzzles, the increasingly shaggy facial hair, the music, the attitude. Hated Simon for raking him over the coals in the finale. Literally jumped out of my bed and did a fist pump complete with a "YES! YES!" when he was announced the winner. He's gonna rock it out big time. Can't wait for the first album.
   
3. We had hail damage earlier this year. Got a new roof! Those two sentences encompassed about 18 full hours of my life in May. My first real foray into homeowners' insurance claims…what a quagmire.
   
4. Carson won first place in his Kindergarten class spelling bee. Oh the joy and celebration that one sparkly blue ribbon can set off in our household. It was about 3 weeks ago and the prize is still hanging from the light fixture over the kitchen table.
   
5. Avery is seriously good at soccer. We're so proud of her. On the last day of the season, she had a double header and scored 5 goals. Not too shabby, Little One! And, she does it all on quickness and determination…none of that pushing and shoving mess…no ma'am. That's for the Slow!
   
6. Avery also had a ballet recital in May. We spent roughly 45 hours at rehearsals, $119 in gasoline, $40 on her "costume fee" and $20 for tickets all for the pleasure of watching her praise Jesus for a total of 2 minutes and 30 seconds. Really…it was priceless.
   
7. I helped a neighbor friend coordinate a neighborhood garage sale. Ugh. But, the purging felt so good.
   
8. I have officially recovered from UNC's loss to Kansas in the Final Four. I told you it would take a few weeks. It did. I'm now looking forward to next year and the return of Psycho T!
   
9. During the garage sale, Super Heather brought over some of her stuff to sell. This point really deserves an entire blog unto itself. In one sentence, she transformed our immensely cluttered and trashed up garage into a glistening palace of organized order and joy. Oh yes, it was that good.
   
10. Then…literally…just a handful of days later, my friend Cindy divulges that she, like Heather, has this amazing gift of organization. She then volunteers to come over and help me with my choice of rooms. The choice was the "craft closet"….Scrapbook Explosion is now Scrapbook Heaven. I'm not even sure I want to scrapbook since I'll have to mess up the closet to do it. Thank GOD for friends like these!!!!
    
11. I took over the family finances. Oh my word. I've been to see a financial advisor. It's been a wicked learning process, but in 50 years I hope to say it was worth it! And I do mean in cold hard cash, people.
    
12. We temporarily traded vans with Richard's parents. We have decided to keep our van until it literally falls apart, so Pop is working his magic on the windshield, the door that Richard damaged in some freak wind storm and the side panel that I ever so slightly rubbed against a ginormous metal dumpster. Dang trash can.
    
13. Richie has managed a newfound love of nakedness. It hearkens back to the days of the diaper and boots ensemble only this time buck naked….as often as we'll let him, but always at naps. He's alarmed several of our friends. Dear souls….they still love us.
    
14. Carson graduated from Kindergarten and it was the river of tears you might expect from this softie. It was complete with cap, gown, singing, Kindergarten bell choir, slide show, scripture recitation and the diploma distribution in which Carson's teacher chose the words "articulate" and "mature" to describe him.
    
15. Avery also graduated from the Sunday/Wednesday preschool program at church. Gosh, the time is really flying by.
    
16. And finally…..this one as well could really use it's own blog. We went to St. Louis as a "school's out" celebration with the kids. We went to a ballgame at which both Avery and Emma got baseballs during practice out in the bleacher seats! They were also chosen to be on Fox that night. Here is the video to prove it! Next day, we went to the zoo. It was great!
    

Ok, I'm tired of writing and I think you're probably tired of reading. I think I'm back online now and you're caught up with all the major events! Sorry for any typos. This came out fast!

Nothing to fear, my dear…

So, I'm a couple of days overdue on the birthday drama update. The surprise was…in a word (or three)…so much FUN!

I was in complete knots for the entire day and into the evening. We dropped off the kids with our much loved and very able babysitter at 5:30. I knew that we had until 6:45 to be at what Richard vaguely referred to as "an appointment." So, to kill a bit of time, I suggested we head over to the jewelry store to have my watch battery replace. And, what stop at the jewelry store would be complete without sending the ol' wedding ring through the super jammy jam shine-it-up machine….which has amazing powers when it comes to removing all manner of dirt, kid spit, hamburger meat and whatever else might be lodged in the prongs of your true love's most prized gift.

I also had a bit of b-day cash in my pocket and what better place to spend it than the jewelry store? But, I quickly realized that I really should have been at Claire's in the mall if I expected to buy anything with my birthday cash. Who knew little tiny bracelets were so stinking expensive? I didn't. I left with one ticking watch and one now-sparkling wedding ring.

On the way to "an appointment," Richard got a call on his cell. I could tell instantly he was nervous. He told the person on the phone that we stopped at the jewelry store and immediately I was suspicious. Who in the world would CARE?? He hung up the phone and I gunned him with my first question. Was that Natalie K???? Uhh…stammer….uhh….no….it was Nonna's. AH – HA!!! We were headed to Nonna's…love that restaurant. They said our table wouldn't be ready for 20 minutes. I asked why they couldn't just give us another table, but Rich told me they were saving a special table…which I could have believed because I have a favorite table there. It looks over into the kitchen…

So, with another 20 minutes to spare, we looked around in a downtown boutique and I managed to buy a pair of jeans with some of my b-day money! Woo Hoo. Thanks Mom and Pop!

FINALLY, we got to Nonna's, and sure enough, the hostess asked if we were here for "the party"….I looked up and there were some of my dear, dear friends up there waiting! It was so great. Dan, Heather, Natalie and Rae-Ann all came to celebrate with me. There were balloons, cards, gifts and lots of laughter! It was such a great night and I felt so loved. Thankfully, there was no singing or dancing, but I did nearly try on a bathrobe at the table. J Had to be there!! There was much funny conversation on topics ranging from American Idol to the hunky pics on Richard's blog to Spanakopita (only Rae-Ann can pronounce it correctly) to what in the world would happen if the birthday balloon and it's super blow pop weight were to fall down to the seating area below. I'm telling you, we were out of our minds with hilarity!

The children survived despite having donuts at the sitter's at 8:30pm and not getting to sleep until 10pm! But, they had great fun too. They were happy that I had a surprise party and were only slightly sad that they couldn't have come. But, we're going to celebrate this weekend with family cake baking!

Birthday jitters…

Today is my birthday.

Thank you. I could feel your "awww" as you read that just now.

I'm a little jittery, though, because Richard has planned a surprise for me.

I hate surprises.

Generally, I trust my husband, but if I'm not involved in every teensy detail of whatever it is that is planned, I start getting nervous. Like I am right now. On my birthday. Not happy. Not excited. Not even sad that I've without question crossed into my thirties now. Nope. I'm just plain nervous. All I know about tonight is that we're dropping the kids at the sitter and then going somewhere to eat at 6:45pm. But, it must be more than just dinner because it's a secret locked in the Fort Knox of my Rich's mind. Otherwise, all my whining today about hating surprises would have surely caused him to relent and spill the beans just to get me to hush it.

I know nothing about where we're going, who will be there, what I'll be expected to do. Will I like the food? What should I wear? Will anyone be singing to me? Are there going to be 6 million of my closest friends there to shock me and then stare at me until I say something incredibly clever about my birthday? Is some birthday clown going to pop out of a cake and put a funny hat on me and toot a really obnoxious Happy Birthday horn? At any point will I be expected to don a sombrero and dance?

Moreover, what about the children? Did he take into account their dinner? What about Little Girl's rehearsal tonight? Will she get there? If not, did he call ahead? Should I box up a dinner to take to the sitter's? Or should I give her cash to take them out? When will I have time to stop by the bank? How is she going to fit three car seats in her car to take them to dinner? She can't. So, we'll have to arrange to give her the van. Which means, we'll need to take two cars to drop them off. Unless we want to borrow her car for this surprise outing. Oh, and we should probably pack for Little Girl's rehearsal, just in case. Oh, and we'll also need to take their pajamas in case we're out past 7:30pm.

I mean, MY WORD! Could anyone be more tense?

How do you spell relief?

Those of you older than, say, 25, may remember a commercial that used to air back in the day that asked various souls how they spell relief. The answer? R-O-L-A-I-D-S.

We're getting our own version of that around here these days. Richie is recognizing all of his letters and spelling things like crazy.

Today at lunch he said, "Mom, do you know how to spell crackers?"

Reading from the box in front of him he rattled off, "R-I-T-Z!"

The horror of the AB pattern…

As part of his Kindergarten learning, Carson has been telling us periodically about patterns. He refers to them as AB patterns which would be any pattern that alternates back and forth. An ABB pattern would repeat as ABB-ABB-ABB, etc. Seasons are a pattern. Taking turns is a pattern. We see patterns everywhere!

Friday night, we were eating at a Mexican restaurant. It's usually a challenge to keep Carson from devouring the entire bowl of queso himself. We have to pour separate bowls for each person and then have a cut-off for pre-dinner chips so that everyone has room for the real dinner. After a few bites of his real dinner, Carson asked if he could have more chips and dip. Richard told him he could have one bite of chip, one bite of rice and beans, then another bite of chip, etc.

In classic Carson brainy form, his whine came out wrapped in educational truths. He said, "But DAD, I don't want to eat my chips in a pattern!"

What’s up with the toothpaste?

It's my burning question for the day. What is up with all the blue toothpaste in my kids' bathroom. It's chronic. Every morning the kids do all their business in the bathroom. Thankfully, brushing teeth is on the list of must-dos--along with combing hair and using the potty at least once. However, every morning when the whirlwind of getting-ready activities has died down and I go in to assess the damage I always….always….find gobs of blue toothpaste crusted onto the vanity. Sometimes I even find it in the floor. Do my children have holes in their lips causing the blue goo to drip out as they faithfully slosh it around in their mouths? Is their brushing action so violent that they sling the sticky mess out of their mouths and all over whatever unlucky surfaces are nearby? Are they physically incapable of saying to themselves, "Oh, look. I just drooled nasty blue toothpaste onto the sink. I think I'll clean that up. In fact, I think I'll clean it up right now before it hardens into a crusty shell of a mess that mommy will have to use her fingernail to pry up later. Yes, I'll get on that right now." What is up with the toothpaste????

The agony of defeat…

Well, Spring is here and soccer season is upon us once again. This is our third season participating with the kids. Just Avery this time, though, as Carson has opted for tee ball which begins later. Somehow our kids have managed every season to be on "that" team that loses every game. And, not by a small margin. Oh, no. It usually goes something like this. The other team gets the ball, the same kid every time dribbles down the entire length of the field, they kick the ball in the goal with ease. Repeat. Repeat. And repeat. OR, if that doesn't happen, one of the players on OUR team will get the ball and dribble it down the entire length of the field and kick it into the opposing team's goal. Repeat.

Now, please don't misunderstand. It certainly is not MY children that are the common denominators causing all of their teams to suffer such perpetual misfortune. No, no. It couldn't be. Case in point…Avery's first game was Saturday. They lost something like 32 to 1. The one goal? Scored by Avery! You should have seen me. I was standing on the sideline for what seemed like the longest game in eternity watching in silence as the other team scored goal after goal. But, for that one shining moment when she broke free of the pack and was headed in the right direction, I turned into "that" mom that cheers like her baby is about to win the national championship. I ran over in front of other parents. I yelled. I jumped. I cheered. Go, Go Go! I shot her 10 thumbs up. It was indeed a special moment.

I'm sure the other parents thought I was "special." Ahem.

So, now, as I look forward to 10 straight Saturdays of relentless beatings on the soccer field, I do have a bit of hope that these shining moments will carry me through. Otherwise, I'm not sure how I'll make it through another losing season. J

And, speaking of the agony of defeat…in case you're wondering, I cannot currently speak of the devastation I felt watching the events of the UNC/Kansas Final Four game unfold before me. In a few weeks, I may be able to pen a response. Until then, keep me in prayer.

A day at the doctor…

Well, I must really be ill. I've had four straight days of fever. This morning I was in tears with misery and relented to going to Urgent Care to see if anything could be done about my ridiculous dizziness, cough and aching. I rolled right out of bed and somehow despite not being able to even stand up straight, found the energy to smear on a bit of lip gloss because no matter how ridiculous the rest of me looked right out of my sweaty sick bed, I was NOT going to be seen without lip gloss. Turns out that was a waste of time...

I arrived at Urgent Care at 11am. Had to get all my info. into the "system"….SSN, birth date, closest relatives, insurance, marital status, occupation, HIPAA, blah, blah, blah. That took 30 minutes. While waiting, the lovely receptionist informed me that since I had a fever I would be required to wear a yellow surgical mask for the duration of my stay. Yes, a surgical mask. I totally get it. But, seriously….you should have seen how ridiculous I was. Certainly not one of my better moments. All my lip gloss rubbed off inside.

And, just let me say for the record that if you've never worn a surgical mask for 3 straight hours you have NO IDEA how HOT those things are. I was breathing my own hot breath…sweating and all underneath that thing. It was miserable. When no one was around, I did have to pull it down for a few seconds just to get a bit of fresh air.

I finally got called in for the initial nurse check over – weight, questions about relatives, overall health and then she declared with certainty that "you have the FLU, honey." I got what she called the "dreaded flu swabby" in which she jammed a six inch q-tip up my nose and must have swabbed my brain. I think I felt the thing behind my eyeball.

45 minutes later, the doctor arrived. Looked in my nose, mouth and ears and said he thought I had the flu.

30 minutes later, doctor came back and said flu test is negative….better get a chest x-ray.

30 minutes of chest x-ray action.

30 minutes later, doctor came back and said no pneumonia. Well, thank goodness. I'm sure I'll get a $500 bill for that relief.

Then, he took the next several moments to explain to me how we live in a viral world and pretty much how there's no telling what I have but that he'd give me two prescriptions – one for head congestion and one for dizziness. I think that was an obligatory prescription because he perhaps felt guilty that I had been there for THREE HOURS and was about to walk out with NO DIAGNOSIS.

So, I'm back at home tonight after having wasted half my day at Urgent Care. I'm just gonna sit here in the house and wait to get better or wait until the medical bills from today's visit start to roll in…whichever happens first. It'll probably be the latter.

What’s a lonely mom to do…?

My parents came for a visit over the weekend. Delightful! What's even more delightful is that they offered to take all three of my babes back home with them for the remainder of the week. Well, they really offered to take the two older ones fearing that Richie may have several slightly modified versions of his bubble gum fits in which he goes on and on with the crying over missing his mommy. However, I insisted that he would be just fine….a little spanking may be necessary, but he'd soon get over it and it would certainly not be bad enough that they should leave the one child here with ME! I really was thrilled at the prospect of three entire kid-free days.

Yesterday morning as they were prepared to leave, I knew something was amiss. After dealing with what I thought were allergies for a few days, I began to feel achy. Stink! Just what I needed on Day One of Kid Free-ness was to spend it in bed nursing a fever and a nasty cough. But, that's what I did. The house was eerily quiet. I was completely alone. I was missing them before they even pulled out of the driveway. Now, I was sick….which meant I couldn't do all the glorious things that moms temporarily without kids are supposed to be able to do. I wanted to spend hours walking around the mall, get a pedicure, read a gardening book, watch movies, scrapbook, have tea with a friend. But no, it was not meant to be.

Today, I'm on Day Two of Kid Free-ness and I'm starting to feel the pressure. Feeling somewhat better, but still not up to par. I'd like to do something from my fun list, but the house is a wreck. I have the unfortunate affliction of not being able to do anything fun until the entire house is in order….dishes done, beds made, floor swept, laundry at least sorted and not overflowing in baskets. AHHH! So, even if I felt like doing something FUN, I have to clean up first.

It's hopeless.

Meanwhile, I miss the little stinkers like crazy. I know they're having fun. But, as I sit here guzzling my Emergen-C and staring over the laptop at the unsightly mess in my kitchen, I'm starting to wonder if I ought not just throw all caution to the wind and do something fun BEFORE I clean up.

Oh, the pressure to make the most of these days is intense.

Not so rough and tumble…

Yesterday Carson was invited over for playtime with a friend from school. Carson usually misses out on our play dates here at home because he's in school, so he and I were both very excited that he could have time with a classmate outside of class. When Classmate's mom called to set it up, she mentioned that Carson might want to bring a pair of boots. In case you haven't seen the news lately, MO has turned into a flooded mess this past week. She also thought it would be nice if Carson brought his bike and helmet because there are some fun trails around their property where the boys could go exploring.

Boots? Hmmm….Carson doesn't own boots. Not rain boots or snow boots or cowboy boots….I figure if the activity requires boots then it's clearly too messy. No boots.

Bike? We got Carson a bike two Christmases ago and I think he's tried to ride it twice. It still has training wheels. It's probably too short for him since he's now 6 and it was given to him when he was 4. No bike.

Exploring? Our definition of exploring is venturing ever so slightly over into our neighbors' green grass yard for one or two minutes at a time….or perhaps finding a new ride at Silver Dollar City.

So, I dropped Carson off bike-less, helmet-less and wearing an old pair of tennis shoes. The shoes were clearly insufficient for the amount of muddy play that was about to ensue, so Classmate's mom immediately offered a pair of their spare boots which they kept in a box on the front porch evidently for cases such as this when moms drop off their sons clearly unprepared for all the manly fun.

Their yard was a little boys play heaven. Expansive space, trees galore, small pond-ish areas, giant sticks, toy guns, tractors, four-wheeler toys. And plenty of mud.

When I went back to pick Carson up I found him with mud from his knees down, boots on, stick in hand running about the place in blissful glee. Classmate informed me that they had a wonderful time and said that perhaps next time Carson comes over he could help with their family project of cutting down a couple of trees near the house. The kids' job would be as the chainsaw loosens the base of the tree to pull on the large ropes at the top of the tree until it fell.

Chainsaw? Don't even get me started.

Thank heaven we're not all the same. How would we ever learn?

How NOT to look cool or smart…

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog entitled How NOT to make your girlfriends like you. I'm considering starting a series on "How NOT To"s because it would seem that I lately have more to bring to the bloggy table by way of learning from my unfortunate mistakes rather than offering up some well-thought, creative morsels of How TO.

Beware. The remainder of this post delves into the depths of my psyche. If that frightens you (as well it probably should) and you feel you need to meander off into some otherr's more frivolous bloggy drivel by all means feel free. I am un-offended.

I hate being perceived as dumb. It's one of my greatest fears. If I think that you think that I'm not all together upstairs, I'll likely have an anxiety attack.

Earlier this week, I sent an email to a friend. In the email I made reference to "Gov. Jim Talent"…….TWICE! Now, anyone who knows their Missouri state current events can tell you right away the gross mistake I had made. Clearly, Jim Talent is not the governor of Missouri. Matt Blunt is the governor of Missouri. Jim Talent is a former SENATOR. I knew that! I really did. I'm quite sure my friend just brushed over this little mistake with an "oh, poor girl" and moved right along with her life. But, when I realized just this morning that I had made this mistake last week, I spent a good two hours obsessing over how in the world I was going to right this wrong and clearly explain to my friend that I'm not a total political moron. I thought about sending her an email explaining myself, but I thought that would be a bit too much. Maybe a more subtle approach….say, slipping the words "former senator Jim Talent" into our next conversation with emphasis on the "senator" just to make sure she hears me clearly. Perhaps I could get a little t-shirt printed up with Jim Talent's face on the front and the word SENATOR just below….then I could wear it next time I see her. On the back, it would say, I AM NOT AN IDIOT. I think that's the real message I'd want to send. Definitely how NOT to look cool or smart.

I felt like one of those poor souls that appear on Jay Leno's L.A. in-the-streets segments where they ask ridiculous questions like "whose face is on the American penny?" and the person stands there blankly and then finally says "uh……Mickey Mouse?" Definitely how NOT to look cool or smart.

This whole incident reminded me of a similar event several weeks ago. I normally enjoy calling people by name when I pass them in the hallway at work or at church. I feel it's an affirming thing to do. So, one evening at church recently, I passed a girl who I've known as an acquaintance for several years. Upon passing her, I said quite chipperly, "HI, DEBORAH!!" She smiled and said hello in return. It was .005 seconds later that I was struck with sheer panic. Her name isn't Deborah. It's Diana! Dang-it! I wanted to turn around and apologize profusely, but the shame of my error was too much to bear and I just kept walking. I obsessed for the next several days about how to right that wrong….to let her know that I do in fact know her name. Should I call her? Should I bring it up next time I see her? Should I send her flowers and a card with her name on the front? Definitely NOT how to look cool or smart.

Bottom line….if you want to NOT look cool or smart, speak before you think. Then, spend an inordinate amount of time coming up with ridiculous ways to go back and make it right. Then, write a blog about it so everyone can be disturbed over the workings of your inner self.

Or, if you want to BE cool and smart try not trying so hard to look cool and smart. Just laugh at yourself and don't obsess over silly things you say. It's okay to look dumb now and again and perhaps even healthy to catch a little dose of humility.

Bracketology...

Today is one of my favorite days of the year. Selection Sunday…that glorious day when the NCAA basketball conference tournaments championships are won and the field is set for the NCAA tournament. I like it better than most holidays. It ranks over every special day except Christmas, kids’ birthdays and Easter. Well, and maybe except our wedding anniversary. Maybe. :) I remember as a young teen falling in love with basketball....actually falling in love with Christian Laettner whose last second jump shot in the 1992 tournament to put Duke over Kentucky in what is the BEST PLAY IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.


That game turned me into a college basketball fan! After that game, I spent countless hours collecting magazine articles, newspaper articles, anything I could find and compiling them into my Duke Blue Devils super fan scrapbook. I was obsessed. I have great memories after that of filling out brackets annually with my little brother who would painstakingly write them out by hand and paste them up on his bedroom wall. Making our picks holds great memories for me.

The tradition has carried down now officially to our children. We’ve been watching a fair amount of college ball around here since our friend Tyler Hansbrough (from my hometown of Poplar Bluff, MO and incidentally whom I used to babysit!) has become the front man for the North Carolina Tar Heels and this season’s Sports Illustrated Player of the Year. We have a basketball in the boys’ room autographed by both Tyler and Ben (now at Mississippi State) that their family gave to us when Richie was born…way back when the biggest news about them was their leading the Poplar Bluff High School team to their second Missouri State championship. Now, we watch them on tv and somehow it never gets old seeing them play. We just sit back and think about how amazing it is that kids from our little neck of the woods in MO are making such a big name for themselves. We’re so proud of them. And our kids get SO excited to watch them play. Needless to say, my old loyalties to Duke have suffered a tragic end as we are now a family fully devoted to the Tar Heels and their quest to dominate college hoops!

Tonight, we had a family meeting after church. Each of us who are able to write…which did not include Richie who preferred to watch an episode of Wow Wow Wubbzy…gathered at the kitchen table with our printed brackets. We gave the kids a short lesson in bracketology and then proceeded to fill out our picks. We all, of course, have UNC taking it all except for Avery who seemed to go her own way on most of her choices despite our instructions that a #1 will nearly ALWAYS beat a #16. Richard and I placed our brackets on the fridge along with Avery who did not want to “lose hers under the bed,” while Carson has decided to sleep with his. Perhaps he’s going to pray over it later.

Now, the wait is on for Thursday when the games begin. I’m anticipating great joy watching how our picks play out and even greater joy if the Heels take it all! It’s March Madness, BABY!!

Sing, sing, sing…

My good friend Natalie wrote a get-you-thinking post the other day about music in which (among other things) she kindly credited me with helping to broaden her musical tastes during our two years together as college roommates. I've always liked just about every kind of music (except of course the "nasty hard core devil stuff…you know what I mean"). I love Bon Jovi and John Mayer. Miley Cyrus and James Blunt. The Gaithers and Journey. Stephen Curtis Chapman and George Strait. The Killers and CFNI. My favorite radio station is Sirius 9 – The Pulse (90's and today). This morning on the way to school, I was delighting the children by Sirius-ly getting down to Marky Mark's Good Vibrations. That got me thinking about C&C Music Factory and Boyz II Men. I love the Goo Goo Dolls, Garth Brooks, Sarah McLachlan, Dave Matthews, Bela Fleck, Barry Manilow, Celine Dion….. I could go on and on.

But, like my friend Natalie, nothing really cuts to the heart like the old hymns. Earlier this week, Carson's Kindergarten class gave a performance during which they recited Psalm 23 and the poem "Whistles" and played a bell choir hymn. That's enough to make a momma break out the tissues. But, it was when they all sang Take My Life by Frances Ridley Havergal that I really choked up. Somehow unlike all the other music in the world, there are a handful of hymns that speaks right to the heart of me…my purpose and my hope.

Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days;
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my hands, and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.

Take my voice, and let me sing,
Always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.

Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.

Take my will, and make it Thine;
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own;
It shall be Thy royal throne.

Take my love; my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure-store.
Take myself, and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.

The way we were…

Well, we just returned on Sunday from a wonderful 4 days in the Dominican Republic. Richard and I had somehow managed not to take one single getaway trip since our honeymoon and it's going on 8 YEARS PEOPLE!! So, it was time. We were invited to go along with some of our best friends and we had a blast!

We stayed at the Dreams Resort in Punta Cana and overall, I'd say it was quite nice. I would give the service an 8 out of 10, the food a 7 and the facilities an 8 (it would be a 9, but our room had this really nasty smell like when you leave wet towels on the floor too long in the laundry room…uh…not that I've ever done that, of course!). The water was all shades of aqua, blue and green. The foliage was rich. The weather was perfect! It was 85 in the day and 75 at night. One of my favorite things to do is sleep with the windows open and we were able to sleep every night with the patio door wide open. We could hear the palm leaves blowing in the wind all night long.

We spent every day doing nothing. We woke up early so as not to waste any beach time, ate breakfast, went to the beach, sunned, read, sipped a few delightful drinks, showered, had dinner, played games after, slept…..washed, rinsed and repeated times three!

The trip, aside from being a glorious escape from our routine, really served to remind me of the way we were….the last time we were able to go away together for awhile. I think a little spark of love re-appeared that has always been there, but just hadn't taken the time in awhile to reflect upon what with all the Mommy business and such. I have the greatest spouse in the world….for me….really I do. I'm so blessed!

Hopefully it won't take another 8 years for us to do something like this again!

My organizing HERO…

A few weeks ago, we moved my office furniture in with Richard's so that we could free up my office for a playroom. All the stray toys that had no home were thrust into the new playroom. Not placed, thrown. We had bookshelves, but they were empty because all of the toys were in the floor. There were crayons strewn about. The toddler kitchen dishes, appliances, wooden fruit and plastic dry goods were scattered all over the floor. Balls, game pieces, toy tools, dvds, puzzles, cut pieces of who knows what paper EVERYWHERE. It was so bad that I couldn't even go into the room. It was such an enormous mess that as soon as I darkened the door it was as if I was immediately paralyzed. I had no idea what to do or even where to begin with cleaning it up, MUCH LESS actually organizing it into anything remotely useful or fun.

Enter Heather. My new hero. She came over for a play-date and knowing that she's particularly gifted with organizing, I went out on a limb and asked if she would just but look at the room and give me a few pointers. Well, she did much more than that. She walked in the room and immediately said, "Oh, this isn't bad at all!" WHAT? This room that I can't move in, can't breathe in, keeps me awake at night for all the horrors of mess? It isn't that bad? Who is this person? THEN….she proceeds to start picking stuff up and organizing it into stations. Stations? I never would have thought of such a thing. We needed a station for crafts, a station for kitchen, a station for reading, a station for sports. Oh, yes, and let's move this bookshelf perpendicular to the wall to create sort of a room within a room effect for coziness. Oh, and the reading corner should be here, just under this one bright light. Yes, and the little girl's iron and ironing board should go with the kitchen in the household area…because that just makes sense. Oh, and this table is perfect for crafts. You need to buy a little organizing basket and have crayons, paper, scissors, glue, etc. all here on hand and the table. Yes…brilliant! Oh, and while we're at it, get the vacuum for me…we need to get these papers up out of here. Do you have a shorter extension cord? What are you using the closet for? How do you feel about moving the tv "here" for better flow?

She must have had a hidden magic wand, people, because in a mere 45 minutes Heather the Hero had turned our nasty playroom into a clean, organized, preschooler-friendly area AND she took the time to train the little people in the house on just where everything was supposed to go and what everything needed to look like in order to qualify as "picked up."

There's nothing like seeing another person's gifts in action!!

Thanks a million, Heather. I've slept well ever since! J

Sounds of life…

Today I settled in for my Sunday afternoon nap. I was a little concerned at first that my rest would not be so sweet due to all the commotion outside. Carson and Avery were out enjoying the 70 degree weather and had invited our backdoor neighbor children to join them. There was much laughing, yelling, running and screaming going on. But, I didn't really have the heart to stomp out, lean over the back of the deck and give the four of them the mean mommy face while they were clearly having such fun. So, I decided that instead of letting their loudness irritate me and ruin my nap that I would instead embrace it and let it be a soothing backdrop for my rest. And, that it was.

The breeze outside whipped around the house and the sunshine was streaming in through my bedroom windows. Their bursts of laughter intermingled with the chirping songs of little birds. The squeak, squeak of the swing kept time while the kids pushed each other and flew through the air. These are the sounds of life for me. Life in our hearts. Life in our home. Life in our relationships. The laughter reminded me that these are the sounds I live for. Sounds of joy. Sounds of sunny days. Sounds of enjoying life.

I thought back to what the sounds of life have been in the past for me. Sounds of music – can I get an AMEN for the 90's? Sounds of marching band. Sounds of my best friends' laughter. Sounds of the ocean on my first date with RWB. Sounds of "I DO" and "Mom, we're moving….again."

Sounds of babies – that all too familiar wha-wha-wha-wha-wha that sometimes went on for hours on end. Sounds of first words. Sounds of Dora and the Wiggles. Sounds of splashes and giggles in the bathtub. Sounds of "Happy Birthday To You." Sounds of first heartbeats and sounds of diapers filling up. Even though in their present perhaps unpleasant, they were always sounds of life.

I thought ahead to what the sounds of life might be in the future. Sounds of children reading. Sounds of inquisitive conversation. Sounds of backyard sports. Sounds of someone else starting the washing machine! J Sounds of cars starting and kids driving away. Sounds of the front door welcoming my college kids home for a holiday. Sounds of "I DO" and "Mom, we're moving…again." Even though in their present they will be perhaps heart wrenching, they will still be sounds of life.

Whether joyous or painful, funny or sad, worthy of praise or deserving of discipline, they are all sounds of life.

So, as I laid there today drifting in and out of sleep, I rested well under the sounds of my babes, reminiscing about sounds that have been and looking ahead to sounds that will be…..relishing the sounds that are now and thanking God for what life they bring to my heart.

Squirmy McSquirm…

Today I took Richie and Avery along while I had my hair done. As most any girl can tell you, having your hair done is a very important day of the month in which you convey your deepest hair desires to your trusted stylist and then sit back for 90 minutes and pray that it all works out in the end. The kids usually go with me and take along their toys. Today was no exception. Except, unlike usual, Richie felt he needed to use my lap as a springboard for all of his activities about the salon. He repeatedly shimmied up onto my lap setting off a choking-hacking sound from me as the cape momentarily cut off my oxygen. Seconds later, he would bound down off to his next adventure which could have been any number of truly important and potentially embarrassing things such as: pilfering through the drawers at the register desk (trying to find the suckers), asking all of the stylists where the trash can was all the while with his chewed up orange gum on the end of his finger, throwing his puzzle pieces underneath the coffee table to see how far they'd slide on the wood floor, asking the stylist for a drink (which he graciously received in the form of a tiny water bottle), and of course singing Hey There Delilah at the top of his lungs when it came on over the sound system…."Ohhhh it's whatcha do da meeeeeee"….can you hear it? I'll say the worst of it was when I moved over for the ever delicate waxing portion of my session. It was then as I laid back in the chair having hot wax rubbed on my forehead and having unruly eyebrow hairs ripped out from my face that Squirmy McSquirm decided to make his boldest move of the day climbing up over the arm of the chair, getting his foot stuck, screaming until I released him without being able to look and then plopped up on my chest and planted a big wet kiss on my chin. I don't know if you've ever been kissed while having your eyebrows waxed….it's kinda hard to concentrate on the moment. But, I'll take 'em when I can get 'em, I suppose!

Nighttime buddies

Richie has always been one to like things just so-so. His shoes must be double-knotted and the laces must be pointing down otherwise his legs mysteriously stop working. His VeggieTales pillow must be turned with the veggie crew facing up or else he cannot lie down. He never wants a coat regardless of the temperature. He can only ride in the RED booster seat. All the others send him into fits of tears.

However, his list of bedtime needs is getting a little out of control. It used to be just that his veggie pillow was properly adjusted and his Thomas the Train blanket was laid out over him head to toe. No more. In the last few weeks, it's become a bit more intense. The list of MUST HAVE items before he can sleep has grown to include the following:

• 1 VeggieTales pillow
  
• 1 Thomas the Train blanket
  
• 2 blue pillows from the couch downstairs
  
• 1 white family blanket—note: the white blanket must be put on FIRST before the Thomas blanket
  
• 1 Humpkin (Richie's fluffy dog)
  
• 1 pink kitty cat (indefinitely borrowed from Big Sis)
  
• 1 small pink Care Bear (also borrowed from Big Sis)
  
• 1 Lamby (Richie's lamb)
  
• 1 red monkey (Valentines gift from Nana)
  

Last night, he got up at 3:30am to potty. Of course, after relieving himself he could not possibly be expected to return to his own bed. He HAD to come to Mommy and Daddy's bed. I laid there for what must have been 7 minutes and 5 round trips as he dragged every single one of his items into my room and piled them into our bed. After which, he plopped himself right in the middle of us and snoozed away.

Whatever happened to just a simple security blanket?

At the mall with my little buddy…

Yesterday, I took one of my favorite people to the mall with me. Carson joined me for a little trip so that I could take back a pair of shoes I picked up on Spa Day because I decided they were too small. My little partner was quite patient with me as I browsed the sale racks at Dillard's for a bit. For the most part, it was a quiet afternoon. I would ask for his opinion now and then about certain items and he would oblige me to give a "yeah" or "nay." I did pick up a little sale item while we were there and as we were checking out, the sales lady and another older shopper were commenting to each other about how cute Carson was. His eyes, his outfit, his sweet demeanor. I didn't argue. He often receives small praises from strangers like this and I never counter and I never brag. I only agree that he is quite wonderful and leave it at that. But, usually my heart is bursting with pride.

Leaving Dillard's he spotted the gumball station and asked for some money. I didn't have any quarters, so we stopped in J.C. Penney where I changed out a dollar bill. He grabbed the four quarters and I'm sure they were burning a hole in his pocket for the next 20 minutes. It made me happy to provide so much anticipation for him. We made the stop for the shoes and were coming out of American Eagle when we walked right up on a posse of teenage boys who desperately needed their mamas. Their pants were saggy, their hair was greasy, they were rowdy and they all had earphones in. I flashed to the future for a split second and said a prayer that my baby boy would be protected during his teen years. That his heart would stay safe. That his choices would be sound. That his love for God would increase. As we passed the posse, Carson tenderly slipped his little hand inside mine. I nearly melted right there. We proceeded quietly back to the gumball stand his left hand in mine and his right clutching his quarters.

I know the time is coming when he'll no longer hold my hand and quarters and gumballs won't be the highlight of his days. I just pray that even when that time is here he'll remember our sweet times together and that perhaps he'll have a little one of his own who melts his heart the way he does mine.

How NOT to make your girlfriends like you…

If you're looking for a clever way to lose a girlfriend, I might suggest the following.

Spend Super Bowl Sunday evening lounging on her couch while your kids riot around for three hours eating all her food and dumping crayons and Polly Pockets all over the house. Let your husband jump and yell and fly toward the flat panel television every time there is a good play. Bring a bowl of queso to share and be sure to nuke it about twelve times so that when it's time to do dishes, the queso has become hard as a rock and glues itself to the bowl…then, let your girlfriend wash it. Stay at your girlfriend's house until way past everyone's bedtime and honor her request not to clean up the Polly Pocket explosion. In your mad dash out at 9:30pm, leave your purse (wallet and phone) behind in her coat closet.

THEN!!!!!!!

Next morning, make sure your gas tank is on empty. Then, empty it completely by driving your son to school. Basically, get your self into a situation where you have no phone, no gas, and no money so that you are forced to stop by unannounced at your girlfriend's house at 8:30am.

As you approach, you'll probably feel a bit better knowing that she is at least awake, because you'll see Wow Wow Wubsy going on the TV inside. Ring the bell with confidence.

Wait 2 minutes. When nothing happens, but you can still see Wubsy, ring again.

Wait 2 more minutes. Get desperate and start peering through the beveled glass doorway. When you spot her kids sitting blissfully in front of Wubsy, start waving your arms and yelling sweet stuff like…"Hey, get your mom!" "Open the door, it's MISS CHRISTIE!" "Let me in!" The children will have been told to ignore the bell and let the "FedEx man" leave the package because heaven knows that ONLY the FedEx man would dare to ring the bell at such an hour.

When the small one starts laughing and waving his stick sling shot at you from his comfy spot on the couch, just take a deep breath. He is simply being an obedient child. Even if it had been 9 degrees outside, he has the strength of character to leave you there in honored obedience to his mother.

Ring the door bell again. This time, older sis will spot you and run to get your girlfriend. Thankfully.

When your girlfriend answers the door, apologize profusely. Say nothing of the state in which she answered the door. After all , it is 8:30am, you kept her up late and now you are rudely unannounced. Find your purse and then…

Run!

And, on the way home thank the Lord above that no matter how hard you try to really irritate some friends, they still manage to love you anyway.

Spa day…

I have the best husband. Yesterday he arranged for me and one of my best friends to have the day out together. This was his Valentine's Day present for me and it was incredible. No, it's not strange that I spent my V-tines Day gift with my girlfriend and not with HIM. We're very secure like that.

My friend Volare and I spent the first glorious free hours shopping at the mall for what we're anticipating to be a FABULOUS upcoming TRIP (more on that later). It was a bit of a whirlwind because two girls cannot really be limited to two hours to shop for an entire trip without there being some mad dashing! I was wishing I had a pair of those wheely shoes the kids wear these days so I could speed around the mall just a wee bit faster. That was, until I saw a kid literally wheel himself right into a post in the middle of the mall and fall down. Painful AND embarrassing….the worst combo.

Volare and I also lunch had lunch together complete with totally grown-up food and conversation and then spent three whole hours being pampered at the spa. Oh, yes….we were pampered. We had the sea spa pedicure, the facial, the aromatherapy bath and massages. You'd think after all that beauty treatment that we'd have walked out of there….well….beautiful. However, after having all our makeup removed, our bodies rubbed hither and yon, spending 30 minutes in a hot tub and having a guy rub massage oil in our hair we were certainly not about to hit the runway. We felt like a couple of wet noodles. Very, very relaxed noodles.

We left there and went to Volare's house where Rich and Ryan had prepared steak dinner with all the fixin's and there was plenty of Godiva chocolate to go around.

It was a SUPERB Valentine's Day gift. Now, I have an entire year to speculate on how my sweetie will try to top it next year. Or, why wait until next year? My birthday is coming up pretty soon! J

The Man Room…

Those of you who have been to our house are very familiar with our "Man Room." It is so incredibly lacking in any sort of design that it's actually being featured over at Antique Mommy's new Inspired Spaces blog. You can check out her post on our Man Room here.

Actually, I have to take that back. Our Man Room does have design....if you like hunting. And you like seeing the targets of your hunting on your twenty foot long wall....in the form of wood paneling.

I can hardly be in the Man Room without getting an overwhelming urge to shoot something.

When we first toured the house before purchasing it, we knew immediately what that room would be used for....Richard. None of the rest of us wanted to be in there. It's ugly. He doesn't like it either, but somehow he has some inner quality the rest of us lack to be able to endure long hours in such an environment.

Oh, and just for your viewing pleasure, here is the picture of the carpet that Antique Mommy referred to as "yugly." I think you'll agree.

And, I'm officially inviting all of our friends over for a week-long Paneling Painting Party. Doesn't that just sound like a BLAST??? Hey…I would do it for you!

Uh…yeah.

How do you know when your son’s addicted?

We may have a problem on our hands. I think my son may be addicted to...are you ready for it?....Juicy Fruit gum. It would seem that not only does he love it dearly and ask for it 10 times a day, he'll now throw a kicking, screaming fit when denied. It goes a little something like this:

R: Mom, can I have some Juicy Fruit? Please? Can I? Can I? (Picture a sweet, soft little three-year-old with large pleading eyes, two inches from my face.)

Me: Sweetie, we don't have any gum.

R: Yes we do!

Me: No we don't.

R: (beginning to rifle through my purse) YES! WE! DO!

Me: (with stern, convincing…or maybe not so…mommy face) No, we, don't. I need my purse back please.

R: NO! I NEED GUM!

Me: No you don't.

R: YES I DO.

Me: How about some candy?

R: NO, I NEED GUM. WHHHHAAAAAHHHH. WWWHHHAAAAAAHH. WWWWHAAA. I NEED IT. I NEED GUM!!!!!!

All this while at the eye doctor's office today where I really just needed 45 minutes of peace so that I could get all set up to, you know, SEE for all of 2008. But, he didn't get that, I guess. He would rather have me forego good sight and instead spend my 45 minutes magically producing Juicy Fruit out of the sky. What does he think "we don't have any" means??????? We don't have any. I can't get any. They eye doctor doesn't sell any. You're nuts if you think I'm taking you to Wal Mart to get any while you're raving mad. Even if I could get any, your attitude is SO BAD that you have lost your gum privileges. FOR ALL OF 2008!

I've tried switching to mint gum. No go. It's too "hot." I've tried switching to somewhat fruity tasting sugar-free gum. No go. He spits it out like I've just asked him to eat a worm. The only suitable substitute in the case that the beloved Juicy Fruit is unavailable would be the orange Trident. Sadly, we hadn't a lick of that today either.

I started picturing myself alone with him in a video supervised, locked, all white room with rubber walls while he kicks and flails about the bed coming off of his sugar high which had been induced by Juicy Fruit gum. Can anything be done? Perhaps an intervention is in order. Or maybe we should just go cold turkey. No gum in the house. Oh, sweet. That'll be a real treat.

Everything’s better with ranch…

What is it about ranch dressing that allows it to turn the most ordinary and mundane raw vegetable into a gloriously delightful snack? What would normally send my kids gagging and hurling toward the trash can suddenly become an object of tasty delight to which they return again and again...thanks to the fine folks at Hidden Valley. My kids can't seem to eat anything without ranch. Carrots, broccoli, chicken, pizza. Whatever it is, it's better with RANCH.

Of course, who am I to judge? I have the same exalted affection for butter. Not margarine. Oh, please! Butter, real salted butter. You could serve me any type of food under the sun and I'd like it better with butter. I've read recently some (probably not so) scientific study citing that butter can actually be good for you. Or, at least it's not as bad as its partially hydrogenated substitutes. That is comforting news. I wish we could say the same for Ranch.

Why I need supervision in the kitchen…

Until last Saturday our oven had been broken. I wish it had been broken today. Then, I wouldn't have to be dealing with this:

The baking explosion you see above is what happens when one thinks angel food cake pans look like this:

When in all reality, they actually look like this:

Now, the yummy coffee cake which was intended for my girlfriends tomorrow will unfortunately be replaced with something truly inspiring like Trix yogurt and some Honey Nut Cheerios. Luckily, my dear sweet husband is giving his dancing homage and two thumbs up to the remnants which he says are quite tasty.