By the way, we normally do NOT let our children play with plastic bags, incase you were wondering.
She thought it was great fun to sit up there and shake that bag!
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Busy Girl
I was loading the dishwasher and Janae came over and grabbed a plastic grocery bag sitting under the dishwasher door and promptly climbed on top and grinned. I had to take a couple pictures.
By the way, we normally do NOT let our children play with plastic bags, incase you were wondering.
She thought it was great fun to sit up there and shake that bag!
By the way, we normally do NOT let our children play with plastic bags, incase you were wondering.
She thought it was great fun to sit up there and shake that bag!
Landon's Bedtime Tale
The front of our house
After all that remodeling we did on the front of our house, you'd think I would have a nice picture to put up of it. Well, at last I dusted this one off after I realized I still hadn't put up an updated picture here. This was taken a few months ago when we had snow. Now the grass is starting to turn green already. So much for a white winter around here.Pictures of my kitchen
The other night I was making supper and feeling rather nostalgic so decided to take some pics of the kitchen. I had to take a quite a few shots because of the way the kitchen is set up. Sorry to bore you with such petty pictures.
a repeat pic dolled up a bit
Still in love after almost 3 dreadfully long years. Can you believe it? And no, it really hasn't been very dreadful at all. Actually, it entirely has been wonderful.
Monday, January 30, 2006
He Forgets
I've been thinking lately about how God in His grace, FORGETS the wrong things I've done. When I come to Him and confess my wrong, He forgets. Even when I can't forget it, He does.
This song wraps it up so well. The chorus says,
"He forgets the sins He took to the cross
Every sin I can't pay, He forgets the cost
He knows who I am and all that I've done
When I come to Him and confess
Someway somehow He forgets!"
He doesn't say, "You know Courtney, here's the deal: you do this, this and this and I promise you that I'll forget any of this ever happened."
He doesn't say, "Sign on the dotted line right below the fine print and I'll forget how bad you are."
God doesn't make deals. He doesn't make you sign contracts and He never has fine print. God says, "You confessed it, I forget it."
Even when we go back and tell God how bad we are, He doesn't forsake us. He forgets.
Some Christians see themselves as unworthy, worthless wretches (which we are) and they "make up" for it by doing "good" things. We suffice ourselves by thinking we are appeasing God by replacing our wrong with our right.
Our right and God's right are as different as good and evil. Sometimes I wonder how long God can take it by not hammering into our heads that our righteousness is as filthy rags. He probably thinks that since He said it in His word as plain as day that maybe we should eventually get it.
But instead we crack out our Hebrew and Greek dictionaries and pick apart many doctorines until we can say them backwards. We read the verses on clothing and write enough books on the subject to fill all our bookshelves and all our time. We study the New Testament to get a check list on how to find the perfect Church.
And we read that "our righteousness is as filthy rags" and think that it means that by owning a Biblical wardrobe and simplifying our adornment, our righteousness is taken over by God's righteousness and we are no longer as the heathen. We think that filthy rags is what the ungodly churches have. The ones that wear bad clothes and listen to bad music. The ones that look like the world. The ones that aren't righteous. But, our righteousness is just as good as God's. Or so we think.
We wrap ourselves in our filthy rags of righteousness and call it holiness. God's righteousness is confined by our standards that we've contrived from a few little sermons and a few Greek words we've strung together. We continue to shine our filthy righteous rags and boast about ourselves in how the world is watching us because we have the truth. But most of our "truth" is only our righteousness. It's only filthy rags.
And God sits in Heaven and shakes His head because when we confess our wrong, we replace it with our right. We don't take on the image of Christ; we take on our own prescribed image of godliness.
If only the hope of the Gospel of Jesus Christ would be accepted by all Christians for what it really is. More people could be living that abundant life that Jesus promises. He forgets the sins HE took to the cross! We don't have to pay and any attempt to do so belittles Christ's work on Calvary.
If our righteousness is really filthy rags like the Bible says, then let's believe and obey God's Word like Christians are supposed to. There is still hope because when we confess our filthy rags, God forgets our filthy sin.
Someway, somehow, HE FORGETS!
This song wraps it up so well. The chorus says,
"He forgets the sins He took to the cross
Every sin I can't pay, He forgets the cost
He knows who I am and all that I've done
When I come to Him and confess
Someway somehow He forgets!"
He doesn't say, "You know Courtney, here's the deal: you do this, this and this and I promise you that I'll forget any of this ever happened."
He doesn't say, "Sign on the dotted line right below the fine print and I'll forget how bad you are."
God doesn't make deals. He doesn't make you sign contracts and He never has fine print. God says, "You confessed it, I forget it."
Even when we go back and tell God how bad we are, He doesn't forsake us. He forgets.
Some Christians see themselves as unworthy, worthless wretches (which we are) and they "make up" for it by doing "good" things. We suffice ourselves by thinking we are appeasing God by replacing our wrong with our right.
Our right and God's right are as different as good and evil. Sometimes I wonder how long God can take it by not hammering into our heads that our righteousness is as filthy rags. He probably thinks that since He said it in His word as plain as day that maybe we should eventually get it.
But instead we crack out our Hebrew and Greek dictionaries and pick apart many doctorines until we can say them backwards. We read the verses on clothing and write enough books on the subject to fill all our bookshelves and all our time. We study the New Testament to get a check list on how to find the perfect Church.
And we read that "our righteousness is as filthy rags" and think that it means that by owning a Biblical wardrobe and simplifying our adornment, our righteousness is taken over by God's righteousness and we are no longer as the heathen. We think that filthy rags is what the ungodly churches have. The ones that wear bad clothes and listen to bad music. The ones that look like the world. The ones that aren't righteous. But, our righteousness is just as good as God's. Or so we think.
We wrap ourselves in our filthy rags of righteousness and call it holiness. God's righteousness is confined by our standards that we've contrived from a few little sermons and a few Greek words we've strung together. We continue to shine our filthy righteous rags and boast about ourselves in how the world is watching us because we have the truth. But most of our "truth" is only our righteousness. It's only filthy rags.
And God sits in Heaven and shakes His head because when we confess our wrong, we replace it with our right. We don't take on the image of Christ; we take on our own prescribed image of godliness.
If only the hope of the Gospel of Jesus Christ would be accepted by all Christians for what it really is. More people could be living that abundant life that Jesus promises. He forgets the sins HE took to the cross! We don't have to pay and any attempt to do so belittles Christ's work on Calvary.
If our righteousness is really filthy rags like the Bible says, then let's believe and obey God's Word like Christians are supposed to. There is still hope because when we confess our filthy rags, God forgets our filthy sin.
Someway, somehow, HE FORGETS!
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
In The House That Toby Built
In a golden rule kind of a way, Toby would build himself a house different than he would a customer. He has more patience with his patients than he does with himself. He never cusses at his cussomers though the cost for a costomer may be greater in a monetary way considering when he does work for himself, he never gets paid.
And it's a good thing because Toby's house would be a different kind of house.
I happen to live in the house that Toby's built a lot of things in and considering I'm almost a foot shorter than the man himself, I see things on a much lower level than he does.
To hang my coat up in our coat closet, I need a step ladder in order to reach the rod with my hanger. If I attempt to reach for the light bulbs stashed on the shelf just above the coat rod, I have to bounce and jump to try to get a more vivid view of the top side of the shelf. From where I stand, all I can see is the grain of wood on the underside of this child proof shelf.
You know how some people have those draw string ladders that you pull out of a little hole in the ceiling when you want to go up into the attic? I need one of those just to get the light bulbs stored in our utility closet.
Toby always changes the light bulbs in his house and it's no wonder because those light bulbs are all out of every one else's reach. If he didn't change them, we'd all be in the dark.
He never needs a chair to stand on in order to reach the ceiling lights either. It works well in our household to designate chores according to height. Toby gets the light bulb task since they're a dangerous thing for a short person to reach since the only way Shorty could get to them would be to shove them off the shelf with a broom handle. And unless you're good at juggling your hands in a fashion that would swiftly snatch the thin glass objects from thin air before they hit the floor in Toby's house, this uppity task is best left to those on higher levels.
Toby's house has unique places for shelves too. Not only are they unique but when peering from their locations, you tend to get a rather bird's eye view of your surroundings. It can tend to leave one falsely convinced they have a negative outlook on things because in order to see anything, you have to look down at everything.
One day Toby's wife was looking for a place to store her un-used kitchen things. Right off the kitchen heading down the stairs to the basement in Toby's house, there was a perfect little nook to put up a shelf that could store extra kitchen gadgets like a toaster, blender, empty jars, bags of chips and even boxes of un-opened cereal. Toby's wife suggested that a simple wooden shelf be mounted on the wall in the little nook that was so obviously lending itself to a practical shelf.
Toby is happy to upgrade his house and uplift his wife by doing charming things like making such rare conveniences like shelves for extra kitchen stuff so he cheerfully went about the task of completing the project.
Upon completion, Toby's uplifted wife went downstairs to admire her admirer's upgraded handy work. It was lovely but had a slight problem: the poor dear needed an extension ladder to even peer onto the edge of the shelf let alone actually lift a fragile item off with her own fair hand. It's since come to be a nice place to store the encyclopedias our kids will one day need in junior high or some other distance age down the road in case the internet is down one day. And they're right off the kitchen too.
I think if Toby built a house, it would be high. Everything about it would be high. Except for the floor, of course. The ceilings would be at least a foot higher than standard ceilings, the cupboards would be up to my chest and the door knobs would be so high we'd still be opening the bathroom door for our 10 years old kids. The bath tub would be long enough to lay an air mattress in and the shower head would be so high, the water would be cold by the time it reached your head.
Another thing with Toby's house would be books. Lots of them. Toby would calculate his finances and figure out on his calculator wrist watch the savings on drywall by building book shelves into the walls instead. Even if wood would cost more, at least he never had to pay money for drywall. He'd save on drywall that way.
Toby would fill those wood book shelves up with great quantities of books from the floor all the way to the high ceilings. The strange thing is though, most of them would end up piled high in the bathroom. For some reason, our books seem to always end up in the bathroom so I'm sure even with an adequate amount of book shelf space, the lavatory would still be the official library.
The other day, I was cleaning the bathroom in Toby's house and combed out a whole selection of a wide range of books with interesting topics. From dog stories to the dangers of demonism, our towel rack was littered with the leaves from at least a half a dozen books. After 3 blissful years of marriage and having as many books in my bathroom as I do towels and wash clothes, I finally put a special little book basket in our sacred little library to hold Toby's books.
I often wondered why they put quaint little coffee shops in book stores when if they just put up a whole line of bathroom stalls, they may get a lot more business. People would probably pay well too. Maybe that's why they put the coffee shops in there though: without the coffee the lavatory business would perish.
The house that Toby would build, would not be surrounded by a lush green lawn. With books to read and light bulbs to change and shelves to build, Toby is too practical to mow a yard with fast growing plants like grass. And since it rarely rains here anyway, he wouldn't have the time nor patience to water his yard of grass. He much prefers the free growing style of the slight shade of what looks like could be green that our currant lawn grows. It's somehow nourished by the few rare drops of rain we get once in a while.
Which about the rain, I really don't mind because with rain comes clouds and with clouds comes people like Toby who tend to get there head stuck in them. It's one thing to have a tall husband but when his head is in a cloud, that's a whole 'nother story.
If Toby designed and built himself a house, I would be more than happy to call it mine as well. Because at the end of a day of climbing ladders and stacking books, it gives a whole new meaning to have someone come down to your level just to give you a kiss after coming home from work.
Or, there is always the option to climb a foot high ladder when that I'm-home-from-work-kiss comes my way and then I get to be up on Toby's level for once... in the house that Toby built.
And it's a good thing because Toby's house would be a different kind of house.
I happen to live in the house that Toby's built a lot of things in and considering I'm almost a foot shorter than the man himself, I see things on a much lower level than he does.
To hang my coat up in our coat closet, I need a step ladder in order to reach the rod with my hanger. If I attempt to reach for the light bulbs stashed on the shelf just above the coat rod, I have to bounce and jump to try to get a more vivid view of the top side of the shelf. From where I stand, all I can see is the grain of wood on the underside of this child proof shelf.
You know how some people have those draw string ladders that you pull out of a little hole in the ceiling when you want to go up into the attic? I need one of those just to get the light bulbs stored in our utility closet.
Toby always changes the light bulbs in his house and it's no wonder because those light bulbs are all out of every one else's reach. If he didn't change them, we'd all be in the dark.
He never needs a chair to stand on in order to reach the ceiling lights either. It works well in our household to designate chores according to height. Toby gets the light bulb task since they're a dangerous thing for a short person to reach since the only way Shorty could get to them would be to shove them off the shelf with a broom handle. And unless you're good at juggling your hands in a fashion that would swiftly snatch the thin glass objects from thin air before they hit the floor in Toby's house, this uppity task is best left to those on higher levels.
Toby's house has unique places for shelves too. Not only are they unique but when peering from their locations, you tend to get a rather bird's eye view of your surroundings. It can tend to leave one falsely convinced they have a negative outlook on things because in order to see anything, you have to look down at everything.
One day Toby's wife was looking for a place to store her un-used kitchen things. Right off the kitchen heading down the stairs to the basement in Toby's house, there was a perfect little nook to put up a shelf that could store extra kitchen gadgets like a toaster, blender, empty jars, bags of chips and even boxes of un-opened cereal. Toby's wife suggested that a simple wooden shelf be mounted on the wall in the little nook that was so obviously lending itself to a practical shelf.
Toby is happy to upgrade his house and uplift his wife by doing charming things like making such rare conveniences like shelves for extra kitchen stuff so he cheerfully went about the task of completing the project.
Upon completion, Toby's uplifted wife went downstairs to admire her admirer's upgraded handy work. It was lovely but had a slight problem: the poor dear needed an extension ladder to even peer onto the edge of the shelf let alone actually lift a fragile item off with her own fair hand. It's since come to be a nice place to store the encyclopedias our kids will one day need in junior high or some other distance age down the road in case the internet is down one day. And they're right off the kitchen too.
I think if Toby built a house, it would be high. Everything about it would be high. Except for the floor, of course. The ceilings would be at least a foot higher than standard ceilings, the cupboards would be up to my chest and the door knobs would be so high we'd still be opening the bathroom door for our 10 years old kids. The bath tub would be long enough to lay an air mattress in and the shower head would be so high, the water would be cold by the time it reached your head.
Another thing with Toby's house would be books. Lots of them. Toby would calculate his finances and figure out on his calculator wrist watch the savings on drywall by building book shelves into the walls instead. Even if wood would cost more, at least he never had to pay money for drywall. He'd save on drywall that way.
Toby would fill those wood book shelves up with great quantities of books from the floor all the way to the high ceilings. The strange thing is though, most of them would end up piled high in the bathroom. For some reason, our books seem to always end up in the bathroom so I'm sure even with an adequate amount of book shelf space, the lavatory would still be the official library.
The other day, I was cleaning the bathroom in Toby's house and combed out a whole selection of a wide range of books with interesting topics. From dog stories to the dangers of demonism, our towel rack was littered with the leaves from at least a half a dozen books. After 3 blissful years of marriage and having as many books in my bathroom as I do towels and wash clothes, I finally put a special little book basket in our sacred little library to hold Toby's books.
I often wondered why they put quaint little coffee shops in book stores when if they just put up a whole line of bathroom stalls, they may get a lot more business. People would probably pay well too. Maybe that's why they put the coffee shops in there though: without the coffee the lavatory business would perish.
The house that Toby would build, would not be surrounded by a lush green lawn. With books to read and light bulbs to change and shelves to build, Toby is too practical to mow a yard with fast growing plants like grass. And since it rarely rains here anyway, he wouldn't have the time nor patience to water his yard of grass. He much prefers the free growing style of the slight shade of what looks like could be green that our currant lawn grows. It's somehow nourished by the few rare drops of rain we get once in a while.
Which about the rain, I really don't mind because with rain comes clouds and with clouds comes people like Toby who tend to get there head stuck in them. It's one thing to have a tall husband but when his head is in a cloud, that's a whole 'nother story.
If Toby designed and built himself a house, I would be more than happy to call it mine as well. Because at the end of a day of climbing ladders and stacking books, it gives a whole new meaning to have someone come down to your level just to give you a kiss after coming home from work.
Or, there is always the option to climb a foot high ladder when that I'm-home-from-work-kiss comes my way and then I get to be up on Toby's level for once... in the house that Toby built.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Our Christmas Picture
We took this picture for our second annual Christmas picture. It was probably one of 20 and the only good one. At least we got one good one though.
Our original pose was outside on the front porch but Landon was too distracted by being outside and both of them were getting too cold so it didn't turn out. Here's the best of that batch...
And finally, an unofficial Christmas Picture of Toby and I... (this was taken after Christmas though so that's why this one didn't come with our yearly Christmas mailing. We're all ready for next year.)
Our original pose was outside on the front porch but Landon was too distracted by being outside and both of them were getting too cold so it didn't turn out. Here's the best of that batch...
And finally, an unofficial Christmas Picture of Toby and I... (this was taken after Christmas though so that's why this one didn't come with our yearly Christmas mailing. We're all ready for next year.)Sunday, January 08, 2006
My Resolution For New Years Resolutions
So, I haven't posted for a long time. Life for me has been busy, interesting and full. But, not the kind of busy-ness that's worth writing about. Of course, having two rambunctious and healthy kids makes for many interesting moments that are very worth writing about. Those moments are just usually so interesting and long that it doesn't leave one with any other moments for time to write about the interesting moments.
Just now, my 22 month old Landon keeps bringing me Double Stuf Oreo cookies for me to open so he can suck off the Double Stuf. I'm glad he brings them to me and doesn't do it himself because I can at least safely discard half of the cookie and that leaves only one sucked-on-half to be left for the carpet or some other unlucky receptacle.
(My key board is being peppered with black, cookie crumbs.)
As for New Years Resolutions, I decided to make only two New Years resolutions. And, no; one of them is not to keep my blog updated this year. (Although that is something I plan to do.)
Resolution #1 is that I would make NO New Years Resolutions and Resolution #2 is that I would live each day for itself and wouldn't be trying to attain to some lofty, far off goal that I made at the beginning of my previously untrodden year.
So far, I've kept both.
I think Janae has a few New Years Resolutions though. Number 1 would be to eat more food. Number 2, to communicate more and Number 3, to pull herself up next to furniture. I hope walking is also one of her New Years Resolutions but so far, we've seen no aspirations on her part for that goal. I think she's choosy about her New Years Resolutions just like her mother.
I believe Landon's New Years Resolution #1 is to talk more. At the end of every phrase we say, we here the last syllable echoed back. Many times he'll pronounce the actual word and you can see the connection being made in his little head as he says the word, repeats it, and then repeats it again and then for good measure, says it again and repeats it a few more times before saying it again...
"Hun, while I run up to do the laundry, can you feed the kids that banana?"
And before Toby can even say okay...
"Buh-naa-nah-nuh."
"BA-na-NUH."
"Bah-NAA-na-na."
"Bah-na-ah."
Or, "Janae, lets get in your walker."
"Wah-ker."
"Vah-ker."
"Fini, vaa-kr." (Fini is Janae's pet name. One of them.)
"WAH-kir."
It's like having a little parrot in your house. Only this one doesn't spill bird seed but rather cookie crumbs.
Just now I'm seeing Janae recycle one of Landon's discarded cookie halfs and I'm hoping that the chocolate on her white sweater will wash out some day. She keeps happily grinning at me with a black mouth and a mushed up wad of sweetness in her fat fist.
Kids sure have been my focus lately. Just yesterday we babysat 1 niece and 2 nephews while their mother celebrated their birthday with their dad. It was busy and fun. Janae's cousin, Caden, is only 5 days her senior so 50% of the kids were under 2.
But, four-year-old Tierra by far passes them all up.
Being the busy little mother she is, I had to keep concentrated on her more than the other kids because she was more focused on them than I was. She was forever helping, holding and taking care the 3 kids younger than her.
After waking up from her own nap, she wanted to check on sleeping Landon. I was enjoying the peacefulness of having my boy sleeping in his safe little bed that I didn't want to risk his wakefulness by a little girl peering into his room just to make sure his was still sleeping.
I assured her he was fine and that we would hear him when he woke up.
"Oh, you have a thermometer in his room?"
"Yes, Tierra, there is a baby monitor upstairs," was my reassuring response.
But that wasn't enough because until he got up, she kept asking if he was okay and if maybe she should go check on him. She was the first one in his room when we heard his call at last.
Other than babysitting and avoiding New Years Resolutions, I've been sewing a few projects and keeping up on my laundry. It's weird how life can be so busy that it causes you to avoid your computer but when you actually sit down to write about your busy-ness, you can't remember what it was that kept you away for so long.
I guess it goes to show that when a cloud of busy-ness shrouds your life, it soon takes on an appearance of normalcy that you don't think twice about the 7th basket of laundry you washed or the 18th diaper you've changed in a day or the countless numbers of fingers you washed or the 25th milk spill you cleaned off the floor or the endless parade of owies and other such life threatening pains you kissed in a single hour.
The longer I sit here and think, the more I realize my life is too full and busy for even a list of New Years Resolutions. I mean, I wouldn't even have the chance to think about making that list let alone write it down.
And if I did make a list, I wouldn't be keeping my New Years Resolution #1.
Just now, my 22 month old Landon keeps bringing me Double Stuf Oreo cookies for me to open so he can suck off the Double Stuf. I'm glad he brings them to me and doesn't do it himself because I can at least safely discard half of the cookie and that leaves only one sucked-on-half to be left for the carpet or some other unlucky receptacle.
(My key board is being peppered with black, cookie crumbs.)
As for New Years Resolutions, I decided to make only two New Years resolutions. And, no; one of them is not to keep my blog updated this year. (Although that is something I plan to do.)
Resolution #1 is that I would make NO New Years Resolutions and Resolution #2 is that I would live each day for itself and wouldn't be trying to attain to some lofty, far off goal that I made at the beginning of my previously untrodden year.
So far, I've kept both.
I think Janae has a few New Years Resolutions though. Number 1 would be to eat more food. Number 2, to communicate more and Number 3, to pull herself up next to furniture. I hope walking is also one of her New Years Resolutions but so far, we've seen no aspirations on her part for that goal. I think she's choosy about her New Years Resolutions just like her mother.
I believe Landon's New Years Resolution #1 is to talk more. At the end of every phrase we say, we here the last syllable echoed back. Many times he'll pronounce the actual word and you can see the connection being made in his little head as he says the word, repeats it, and then repeats it again and then for good measure, says it again and repeats it a few more times before saying it again...
"Hun, while I run up to do the laundry, can you feed the kids that banana?"
And before Toby can even say okay...
"Buh-naa-nah-nuh."
"BA-na-NUH."
"Bah-NAA-na-na."
"Bah-na-ah."
Or, "Janae, lets get in your walker."
"Wah-ker."
"Vah-ker."
"Fini, vaa-kr." (Fini is Janae's pet name. One of them.)
"WAH-kir."
It's like having a little parrot in your house. Only this one doesn't spill bird seed but rather cookie crumbs.
Just now I'm seeing Janae recycle one of Landon's discarded cookie halfs and I'm hoping that the chocolate on her white sweater will wash out some day. She keeps happily grinning at me with a black mouth and a mushed up wad of sweetness in her fat fist.
Kids sure have been my focus lately. Just yesterday we babysat 1 niece and 2 nephews while their mother celebrated their birthday with their dad. It was busy and fun. Janae's cousin, Caden, is only 5 days her senior so 50% of the kids were under 2.
But, four-year-old Tierra by far passes them all up.
Being the busy little mother she is, I had to keep concentrated on her more than the other kids because she was more focused on them than I was. She was forever helping, holding and taking care the 3 kids younger than her.
After waking up from her own nap, she wanted to check on sleeping Landon. I was enjoying the peacefulness of having my boy sleeping in his safe little bed that I didn't want to risk his wakefulness by a little girl peering into his room just to make sure his was still sleeping.
I assured her he was fine and that we would hear him when he woke up.
"Oh, you have a thermometer in his room?"
"Yes, Tierra, there is a baby monitor upstairs," was my reassuring response.
But that wasn't enough because until he got up, she kept asking if he was okay and if maybe she should go check on him. She was the first one in his room when we heard his call at last.
Other than babysitting and avoiding New Years Resolutions, I've been sewing a few projects and keeping up on my laundry. It's weird how life can be so busy that it causes you to avoid your computer but when you actually sit down to write about your busy-ness, you can't remember what it was that kept you away for so long.
I guess it goes to show that when a cloud of busy-ness shrouds your life, it soon takes on an appearance of normalcy that you don't think twice about the 7th basket of laundry you washed or the 18th diaper you've changed in a day or the countless numbers of fingers you washed or the 25th milk spill you cleaned off the floor or the endless parade of owies and other such life threatening pains you kissed in a single hour.
The longer I sit here and think, the more I realize my life is too full and busy for even a list of New Years Resolutions. I mean, I wouldn't even have the chance to think about making that list let alone write it down.
And if I did make a list, I wouldn't be keeping my New Years Resolution #1.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Long Time No Post
Life has been a series of changes and upheavals. We were gone on "vacation" for 12 days to visit my family up in Wisconsin. It was a wonderful trip and we had many happy times. Check back soon for updates and pictures. They should be coming soon. I don't have the necessary time to do a long post right now but promise to catch up soon.
I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and that all your New Years resolutions are being kept so far!
I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and that all your New Years resolutions are being kept so far!
Monday, December 12, 2005
Snow Pics
Toby and Landon having fun in the snow. These
were taken
about a
week ago
when we
had a
wonderful,
white and
fluffy snowfall.
It's all almost
gone today
thanks to the
40+ degree
weather we've
had over the
weekend.
Court and
Landon
posing for a
shot. Landon
didn't want
to smile for
the pictures.
I think he
just didn't
want to
take time
for pics --
the snow
was too fun,
as you can
see in the
next picture...
Landon's first sled rides! He had so much fun!
were taken about a
week ago
when we
had a
wonderful,
white and
fluffy snowfall.
It's all almost
gone today
thanks to the
40+ degree
weather we've
had over the
weekend.
Court and
Landon
posing for a
shot. Landon
didn't want
to smile for
the pictures.
I think he
just didn't
want to
take time
for pics --
the snow
was too fun,
as you can
see in the
next picture...
Landon's first sled rides! He had so much fun!
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Canon Perkins
I ran across this site yesterday and have had this sweet child on my mind ever since. He's the same age as Landon but has a rare liver condition. It's a sad but hopeful story. Canon also already has a younger sibling so I can only imagine the life style his parents must have right now -- what with a sick child and a little baby. Keep them in your prayers.
Monday, December 05, 2005
On Toddlers Eating Baby Cereal
You know your kids were born close together when they're both eating baby cereal out of the same bowl.
That was my bright revelation last night when I fixed Janae a nice gooey bowl of mushy rice cereal and proceeded to feed her and Landon started asking for some. He insisted on feeding himself so I was relieved that even though he was eating baby cereal, he was acting half grown up about it.
At one point, I'd reach down to put a spoonful of goo into Janae's open mouth only to feel the bowl in the other hand kinda get bumped. I glanced at it and noticed Landon was running his finger through it.
I pulled the bowl away and looked down at the spoon going into Janae's mouth and saw that she was biting down on the end of the spoon. As I'd push the cereal into her mouth, it would all run off the handle end of the spoon and fall down on her shirt.
While trying to catch that, I set the cereal bowl back on Landon's tray, assuming he'd go back to feeding himself with the spoon. When I looked back at him, he was using the gooey substance as a dip for his "hint of lime" chips. He sat there and dipped in style until his chips were gone.
Janae would holler for more and Landon would oblige his spoon until I could pry another little glob between her rosy lips. She wanted that stuff like crazy but wouldn't open her mouth up any more than enough to just bite the end of the spoon. Her mouth was surrounded by my attempts to get the food into her mouth.
Then we ran out of one bowl so I had to make more. Both kids were worried about that but I soon set them at ease when I brought back a nice full bowl. Baby cereal was one of the best inventions: you can make it fast and you can make as much as you need and if you don't, you can throw out the leftovers because that's what the directions say. It makes for a cleaner fridge that way and less hassle. Talk about fast food.
Eventually, Landon was disinterested in the snack and Janae wouldn't crack open her lips at all -- her little jaw was so firmly set. So we cleaned everyone up and put our snack away.
When I was first mixing up the food for Janae, I had told Toby that Landon was too old for baby cereal. He can eat regular cereal now and doesn't need that gooey stuff. While I sat down at the table to feed Janae, Landon started begging for something. Come to find out, he loves that stuff and does still need it.
So, either my kids were born too close together or else one doesn't want to grow up. Or, maybe it's both. At least he can feed himself though so I guess we're on a start.
That was my bright revelation last night when I fixed Janae a nice gooey bowl of mushy rice cereal and proceeded to feed her and Landon started asking for some. He insisted on feeding himself so I was relieved that even though he was eating baby cereal, he was acting half grown up about it.
At one point, I'd reach down to put a spoonful of goo into Janae's open mouth only to feel the bowl in the other hand kinda get bumped. I glanced at it and noticed Landon was running his finger through it.
I pulled the bowl away and looked down at the spoon going into Janae's mouth and saw that she was biting down on the end of the spoon. As I'd push the cereal into her mouth, it would all run off the handle end of the spoon and fall down on her shirt.
While trying to catch that, I set the cereal bowl back on Landon's tray, assuming he'd go back to feeding himself with the spoon. When I looked back at him, he was using the gooey substance as a dip for his "hint of lime" chips. He sat there and dipped in style until his chips were gone.
Janae would holler for more and Landon would oblige his spoon until I could pry another little glob between her rosy lips. She wanted that stuff like crazy but wouldn't open her mouth up any more than enough to just bite the end of the spoon. Her mouth was surrounded by my attempts to get the food into her mouth.
Then we ran out of one bowl so I had to make more. Both kids were worried about that but I soon set them at ease when I brought back a nice full bowl. Baby cereal was one of the best inventions: you can make it fast and you can make as much as you need and if you don't, you can throw out the leftovers because that's what the directions say. It makes for a cleaner fridge that way and less hassle. Talk about fast food.
Eventually, Landon was disinterested in the snack and Janae wouldn't crack open her lips at all -- her little jaw was so firmly set. So we cleaned everyone up and put our snack away.
When I was first mixing up the food for Janae, I had told Toby that Landon was too old for baby cereal. He can eat regular cereal now and doesn't need that gooey stuff. While I sat down at the table to feed Janae, Landon started begging for something. Come to find out, he loves that stuff and does still need it.
So, either my kids were born too close together or else one doesn't want to grow up. Or, maybe it's both. At least he can feed himself though so I guess we're on a start.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Blinkies
In case you can't tell, I'm on a blinky binge. I told Toby it's my new blog background; like a new stationery or something.
It was a valuable computer language crash-course to learn how to interpret that gibberish when inserting all those silly icons into my Template. I never knew these things "< >" could be so important. (It took me about two minutes to find them on my keyboard just now.)
My two favorite blinky sites were this one and this one. I also like this one for the variety. And this one was absolutely adorable.
It was a valuable computer language crash-course to learn how to interpret that gibberish when inserting all those silly icons into my Template. I never knew these things "< >" could be so important. (It took me about two minutes to find them on my keyboard just now.)
My two favorite blinky sites were this one and this one. I also like this one for the variety. And this one was absolutely adorable.
Most blinkie sites will urge you not to steal their bandwidth. At first I didn't know what that meant and thought I was guilty of it until I read that if you are saving the blinkies to your hard drive (right click, save as...) and then uploading them somewhere else (like photobucket.com) before putting them on your website, message board, blog, etc., then you're doing it right. It all scared me at first but then I realized that I was already snagging them legally and had no reason to fear the internet cops. But good information to keep in mind nonetheless.
You can roll your eyes at my blinkies or enjoy them. Either way, I won't give a blink.
At least I'm more female...
It said my brain is 80.00% Female, 20.00% Male. Hmmmm....
| Your Brain is 80.00% Female, 20.00% Male |
Your brain leans female You think with your heart, not your head Sweet and considerate, you are a giver But you're tough enough not to let anyone take advantage of you! |
What Gender Is Your Brain?
Friday, December 02, 2005
What's Your Occupation?
This evening has been quite calorie reducing for me. They should really come up with a fancy exercise name for a person who makes frequent jumps off their office chair and then jogs, sprints or runs out of the room about twenty feet to save the life of a small individual. If there was such an exercise, I could fill in the "exercise daily" section of the forms you fill out when you go to the doctor's office.
For now, I have to leave that section blank because my kids keep me too busy doing the office chair sprint exercise.
I've been sitting at my desk surfing around on the web, checking out my regular sites and writing emails. At least, I'm trying to.
After making repeated trips to the nether regions of our house looking for a 2 1/2' male child, I'll sit down only to have to lunge across the room to retrieve a UFO (unknown foreign object) from my woman child's mouth. Then a boy with the above description will come tripping into the office with a handful of large crackers (or "car-tures" as he calls them) and will march over to the fridge to get a pop.
When he made a find behind my desk (there's about a 2" gap between the desk and wall) and pulled out a small lego, I dove my hand to grab the choking hazard from my son only to hear a choking sound coming from my girl on the other side of me. I kind of did a fast motion sway between the two of them while trying to decide who's life to save first. I can't remember who I grabbed first or if I had to use my toes and legs for that one as well as my fingers and arms.
All I know is there was a cracker and that small hazardous lego sitting on my desk when the dust cleared. There was also a collection of cracker crumbs balancing precariously on my space key that eventually slid down into the keyboard. I don't where those came from.
As we speak, both children are playing peaceable in the pop fridge rearranging cans. There's a collection of crackers and large legos on the floor behind me. Only the sound of computers can be heard right now even though there are two adventurous little people cruising around the room. Well, the sounds of moving pop cans can be heard too. As well as an occasional "whoa" by the larger child followed by a wail from the tinier person.
I'm glad pop cans are somewhat kid proof when it comes to opening them or else we'd have a mess right now. The boy is stacking and moving a collection of them and the girl is chewing on her own personal can. There have been frequent wails and exchanges of cans between the two youngsters only I think the exchanges aren't all quite completed because that baby seems to be getting the short end of the stick.
I should also be able to fill out the "occupation" part of those forms with something other than SAHM. I'm also a paramedic, child care provider, chef, wet nurse and psychiatrist.
Yes, psychiatrist.
At least a half dozen times tonight my husband has asked me what's wrong with our child that favors a tendency to wail. Either it would take an interpreter or psychiatrist to figure it out.
Since they haven't come up with a "language" that babies use, I guess it would take a psychiatrist until that interpreter comes around.
And, since the wailing child happens to be mine then automatically I should know what's wrong, right? Well, compared to the rest of her parents, I think she's crying because something didn't go her way.
I guess if I had a cool can of pop all to myself just for me to chew on, I'd cry too when my bossy big brother took it away from me. You wouldn't think it would take a professional to figure that out but maybe it does if you're the dad.
Well, I just dug some moist cracker crumbs out of the corner of my female child's left eye and with the sleepiness that has come over her, I have to assume that she's ready for bed. Since I'm the mom, I should know that at least.
The night is coming to an end and it is time for kisses and snuggles down into warm beds. Troubles and wails cease for a time and tummies are full and diapers are clean.
And moms can sleep (or sit here and type or surf) without figuring out all the problems her children come up with.
I still think I should be called a psychiatrist.
For now, I have to leave that section blank because my kids keep me too busy doing the office chair sprint exercise.
I've been sitting at my desk surfing around on the web, checking out my regular sites and writing emails. At least, I'm trying to.
After making repeated trips to the nether regions of our house looking for a 2 1/2' male child, I'll sit down only to have to lunge across the room to retrieve a UFO (unknown foreign object) from my woman child's mouth. Then a boy with the above description will come tripping into the office with a handful of large crackers (or "car-tures" as he calls them) and will march over to the fridge to get a pop.
When he made a find behind my desk (there's about a 2" gap between the desk and wall) and pulled out a small lego, I dove my hand to grab the choking hazard from my son only to hear a choking sound coming from my girl on the other side of me. I kind of did a fast motion sway between the two of them while trying to decide who's life to save first. I can't remember who I grabbed first or if I had to use my toes and legs for that one as well as my fingers and arms.
All I know is there was a cracker and that small hazardous lego sitting on my desk when the dust cleared. There was also a collection of cracker crumbs balancing precariously on my space key that eventually slid down into the keyboard. I don't where those came from.
As we speak, both children are playing peaceable in the pop fridge rearranging cans. There's a collection of crackers and large legos on the floor behind me. Only the sound of computers can be heard right now even though there are two adventurous little people cruising around the room. Well, the sounds of moving pop cans can be heard too. As well as an occasional "whoa" by the larger child followed by a wail from the tinier person.
I'm glad pop cans are somewhat kid proof when it comes to opening them or else we'd have a mess right now. The boy is stacking and moving a collection of them and the girl is chewing on her own personal can. There have been frequent wails and exchanges of cans between the two youngsters only I think the exchanges aren't all quite completed because that baby seems to be getting the short end of the stick.
I should also be able to fill out the "occupation" part of those forms with something other than SAHM. I'm also a paramedic, child care provider, chef, wet nurse and psychiatrist.
Yes, psychiatrist.
At least a half dozen times tonight my husband has asked me what's wrong with our child that favors a tendency to wail. Either it would take an interpreter or psychiatrist to figure it out.
Since they haven't come up with a "language" that babies use, I guess it would take a psychiatrist until that interpreter comes around.
And, since the wailing child happens to be mine then automatically I should know what's wrong, right? Well, compared to the rest of her parents, I think she's crying because something didn't go her way.
I guess if I had a cool can of pop all to myself just for me to chew on, I'd cry too when my bossy big brother took it away from me. You wouldn't think it would take a professional to figure that out but maybe it does if you're the dad.
Well, I just dug some moist cracker crumbs out of the corner of my female child's left eye and with the sleepiness that has come over her, I have to assume that she's ready for bed. Since I'm the mom, I should know that at least.
The night is coming to an end and it is time for kisses and snuggles down into warm beds. Troubles and wails cease for a time and tummies are full and diapers are clean.
And moms can sleep (or sit here and type or surf) without figuring out all the problems her children come up with.
I still think I should be called a psychiatrist.
Some cute pics of our kids
Or should that be, "Some pics of our cute kids" instead? Whatever.
HERE'S SOME PICS OF OUR KIDS
There. That might sound more humble; less proud perhaps.
I've promised everyone and their mother that I would post pictures but I haven't gotten to it until now. Hope you enjoy them everyone and your mom!
Landon wasn't enjoying the leaves very much -- as you can tell by the unpleased look on his face.
Janae on the other hand, did like them. She liked them so much, I found a little piece of one in her diaper a couple days later. As you can tell from looking at her, she is a starving child and has to forage to stay alive.
What a look on that face! Landon loves driving his car and spends hours going on trips... or wherever his car takes him. Yeah, I guess you could call that a trip -- even if it's just up and down the side walk.
Janae all smiles for a picture. Just don't walk away from her or else that smile stops.
Bathtime Buddies!
Cuddly kids in their jammies (or "dimmies" as Landon calls them)
Janae all ready to get her picture taken
I have to stick this one in too so you can see some of her little pearlies. She has almost 8 now and she's not even 8 months old yet!
Landon talking to Beemoo (and Beemoo is Auntie Britt, for those of you who don't know that yet.)
And finally, Janae and her Daddy
HERE'S SOME PICS OF OUR KIDS
There. That might sound more humble; less proud perhaps.
I've promised everyone and their mother that I would post pictures but I haven't gotten to it until now. Hope you enjoy them everyone and your mom!
Landon wasn't enjoying the leaves very much -- as you can tell by the unpleased look on his face.
Janae on the other hand, did like them. She liked them so much, I found a little piece of one in her diaper a couple days later. As you can tell from looking at her, she is a starving child and has to forage to stay alive.
What a look on that face! Landon loves driving his car and spends hours going on trips... or wherever his car takes him. Yeah, I guess you could call that a trip -- even if it's just up and down the side walk.
Janae all smiles for a picture. Just don't walk away from her or else that smile stops.
Bathtime Buddies!
Cuddly kids in their jammies (or "dimmies" as Landon calls them)
Janae all ready to get her picture taken
I have to stick this one in too so you can see some of her little pearlies. She has almost 8 now and she's not even 8 months old yet!
Landon talking to Beemoo (and Beemoo is Auntie Britt, for those of you who don't know that yet.)
And finally, Janae and her Daddy
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Before and After Pics of our office
We renovated our front porch and turned half of it into an "official" office and the other side is a open/railed porch.
(sorry, not a good pic -- will update soon as now the whole front is finished.)
These are befores of the office. Actually, the office was in an entirely different room than it is now.
Our old office was a thorn in my flesh since it was well unorganized and not quite the kind of room you'd like to take a picture of. I realized now as I searched my My Pictures folder that I have no plain old pics of the office. You'll have to do with these. The little boy in one of the pics above, is my husband's little adopted brother, Jeremiah. The above pictures of the office was Toby's desk. Here's a picture from the vicinity of where mine was: (sorry, not a good pic!)
And now, here's the new office:
(my desk above and Toby's desk below)
decor detail below
This is what it looks like from the doorway
(sorry, not a good pic -- will update soon as now the whole front is finished.)
These are befores of the office. Actually, the office was in an entirely different room than it is now.
Our old office was a thorn in my flesh since it was well unorganized and not quite the kind of room you'd like to take a picture of. I realized now as I searched my My Pictures folder that I have no plain old pics of the office. You'll have to do with these. The little boy in one of the pics above, is my husband's little adopted brother, Jeremiah. The above pictures of the office was Toby's desk. Here's a picture from the vicinity of where mine was: (sorry, not a good pic!)
And now, here's the new office:
(my desk above and Toby's desk below)
decor detail below
This is what it looks like from the doorway
Power Of Suggestion
Yesterday, Toby came home for lunch with a look in his eyes that said I'm-ready-to-conquer-the-world-if-my-finances-are-okay as he punched away at his calculator wrist watch. He didn't seem too interested in lunch as he wandered around the house with a tape measure and pencil and a much too small stocking cap on his head.
After making his food, I searched the house looking for him and found him measuring our room.
"Are you ready to get new carpet, Hun?" was his greeting as he scrawled another number on his little stick-it pad.
"Carpet?" I asked.
He looked at me with a pleased grin and with a note of triumph in his voice said, "Yep."
My only wise response was, "Are you sure we can afford it?" As soon as I said it I wanted to suck the words out of the air and into my stomach, even if they would've given me a stomach ache to eat them.
I should know that before Toby even puts gas in the car, he makes sure our budget can accommodate it. And to put carpet in our house would give him even more reason to analyze and critique our finances.
He overlooked my question and informed me of the allotted allowance he had set aside for this new project and where exactly the money was coming from and how it would be handled.
I raised my eyebrows in shock and excitement and went back downstairs to stir the soup, trying to adjust to this new idea.
Eventually he came down stairs and I could hear him counting the steps as he made his way down. As he went to the table, he jotted down another number and ate his dinner while he read a book.
In no time, he was done and standing at the door with the pencil and paper and stocking cap and telling me to get the baby so we could run to the carpet store and pick out carpet.
I should know by now that when Toby sets his mind to do something, he goes all the way. But, for some reason when he was measuring the rooms, I inwardly assumed I'd have a couple days to digest the plans. He wasn't even giving me an hour to think about it.
I was thrilled to go pick out the carpet right then. I love picking out carpet and other such house hold items and to be kept waiting in order to digest an idea, well, sometimes that can be annoying. We went and picked out a few samples and came home.
Later that night, I knew the time had to come to finalize our choices. I washed my hair and showered, put on a pleasant night gown and arranged the sample boards across our bedroom floor. Of course, I would've washed me and made me clean had we not been deciding on carpet but since we were doing both that night, I made sure to plan them together. Adds to the effect somehow.
Toby sauntered in and informed me right up front that whatever I chose would be fine with him.
I assured him I knew that but would really appreciate his suggestions. I don't like making such life changing choices by myself -- like picking out carpet that we'll have to live with for the next 25 years.
He put his chin in his hands and intently peered at the samples for our room. I pointed at one and he agreed. We moved to the hall's carpet choices.
We both pointed to the same one at the same time and deemed that one chosen for the hall and steps. We moved on.
As we picked the final choices for the other two rooms, he'd say one choice; I'd say another. We'd discuss differences and details and then make a choice. Then I'd pick another one and then he'd point out yet another one. Finally, we were moving to actual colors (like blue, green, etc.) even though from the beginning we had both agreed that staying neutral (like tan, grey, etc.) would be best.
Just out of the blue, I pointed to a pleasant blue Frieze. He immediately liked it and said to go with that for what will be Landon's room. I said something to the effect of what if our next child is a boy; then Janae would get that room. (It's the smallest room and would suit one child better than two.)
"What if the next one is a girl?" Was the response I got -- as if there could be another sex besides boy or girl.
And then he said, "That's a nice color; it would work for a girl... it's kind of a grey blue color."
It was a nice color and I was half tempted. But what he said next only confused me.
"It really isn't blue anyway; it looks grey. Yeah, it's a grey color," he finished with.
I blinked my eyes and searched the very fibers of the carpet for some obvious strand of grey.
"That's as blue as you can get, Hun... sorta a grey blue shade but everybit of it is blue." I couldn't see how he didn't get it.
"Fine," he said as he shrugged his shoulders. "You pick out the carpet... this is why you should just do it yourself because you don't like my suggestions." And he went back to his book, as if the fact that I didn't agree with his all his choices made it so the previous agreeable choices were obsolete.
"Well, my dear Hun, remember I said I wanted your suggestions?" and I really did mean it. "I didn't tell you that you had to pick out the carpet -- I just wanted your suggestions."
He kind of nodded his head and agreed and was relieved the weight of the carpet was off his shoulders. He pointed at another color with his toe and then suggested we should just go to bed and look at them in the morning. The light would be different and would make the colors more obvious.
I agreed on that suggested choice and we headed to bed.
Sometimes power of suggestion is the most effective; other times, well, a suggestion is just another choice. If only some people would realize that.
After making his food, I searched the house looking for him and found him measuring our room.
"Are you ready to get new carpet, Hun?" was his greeting as he scrawled another number on his little stick-it pad.
"Carpet?" I asked.
He looked at me with a pleased grin and with a note of triumph in his voice said, "Yep."
My only wise response was, "Are you sure we can afford it?" As soon as I said it I wanted to suck the words out of the air and into my stomach, even if they would've given me a stomach ache to eat them.
I should know that before Toby even puts gas in the car, he makes sure our budget can accommodate it. And to put carpet in our house would give him even more reason to analyze and critique our finances.
He overlooked my question and informed me of the allotted allowance he had set aside for this new project and where exactly the money was coming from and how it would be handled.
I raised my eyebrows in shock and excitement and went back downstairs to stir the soup, trying to adjust to this new idea.
Eventually he came down stairs and I could hear him counting the steps as he made his way down. As he went to the table, he jotted down another number and ate his dinner while he read a book.
In no time, he was done and standing at the door with the pencil and paper and stocking cap and telling me to get the baby so we could run to the carpet store and pick out carpet.
I should know by now that when Toby sets his mind to do something, he goes all the way. But, for some reason when he was measuring the rooms, I inwardly assumed I'd have a couple days to digest the plans. He wasn't even giving me an hour to think about it.
I was thrilled to go pick out the carpet right then. I love picking out carpet and other such house hold items and to be kept waiting in order to digest an idea, well, sometimes that can be annoying. We went and picked out a few samples and came home.
Later that night, I knew the time had to come to finalize our choices. I washed my hair and showered, put on a pleasant night gown and arranged the sample boards across our bedroom floor. Of course, I would've washed me and made me clean had we not been deciding on carpet but since we were doing both that night, I made sure to plan them together. Adds to the effect somehow.
Toby sauntered in and informed me right up front that whatever I chose would be fine with him.
I assured him I knew that but would really appreciate his suggestions. I don't like making such life changing choices by myself -- like picking out carpet that we'll have to live with for the next 25 years.
He put his chin in his hands and intently peered at the samples for our room. I pointed at one and he agreed. We moved to the hall's carpet choices.
We both pointed to the same one at the same time and deemed that one chosen for the hall and steps. We moved on.
As we picked the final choices for the other two rooms, he'd say one choice; I'd say another. We'd discuss differences and details and then make a choice. Then I'd pick another one and then he'd point out yet another one. Finally, we were moving to actual colors (like blue, green, etc.) even though from the beginning we had both agreed that staying neutral (like tan, grey, etc.) would be best.
Just out of the blue, I pointed to a pleasant blue Frieze. He immediately liked it and said to go with that for what will be Landon's room. I said something to the effect of what if our next child is a boy; then Janae would get that room. (It's the smallest room and would suit one child better than two.)
"What if the next one is a girl?" Was the response I got -- as if there could be another sex besides boy or girl.
And then he said, "That's a nice color; it would work for a girl... it's kind of a grey blue color."
It was a nice color and I was half tempted. But what he said next only confused me.
"It really isn't blue anyway; it looks grey. Yeah, it's a grey color," he finished with.
I blinked my eyes and searched the very fibers of the carpet for some obvious strand of grey.
"That's as blue as you can get, Hun... sorta a grey blue shade but everybit of it is blue." I couldn't see how he didn't get it.
"Fine," he said as he shrugged his shoulders. "You pick out the carpet... this is why you should just do it yourself because you don't like my suggestions." And he went back to his book, as if the fact that I didn't agree with his all his choices made it so the previous agreeable choices were obsolete.
"Well, my dear Hun, remember I said I wanted your suggestions?" and I really did mean it. "I didn't tell you that you had to pick out the carpet -- I just wanted your suggestions."
He kind of nodded his head and agreed and was relieved the weight of the carpet was off his shoulders. He pointed at another color with his toe and then suggested we should just go to bed and look at them in the morning. The light would be different and would make the colors more obvious.
I agreed on that suggested choice and we headed to bed.
Sometimes power of suggestion is the most effective; other times, well, a suggestion is just another choice. If only some people would realize that.
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