(Or maybe the title should be, "Tongue Twister Of The Day")
If you think you know what you thought I meant when I said what you think you thought you heard, then tell me what you think you thought I meant when I said what you thought you heard me say and then I can know what you think you thought I meant and you can know for sure what I meant when I said what you think you heard.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Better Than A Friendship; Deeper Than A Relationship
We all have people in our life that we're related to. We call them "family."
We all have people in our life that we hang out with. We call them "friends."
We all have people in our life that we share all our secrets with. We call them "good friends."
We all have people in our life that we go through hard times with. We call them "faithful friends."
We all have people in our life that love us despite what they know about us. We call them "true friends."
We all have people in our life that live nearby and are available at a moment's notice for anything. We call them "reliable friends."
But when we have people in our life that are all of the above, what do we call them?
We all have people in our life that we hang out with. We call them "friends."
We all have people in our life that we share all our secrets with. We call them "good friends."
We all have people in our life that we go through hard times with. We call them "faithful friends."
We all have people in our life that love us despite what they know about us. We call them "true friends."
We all have people in our life that live nearby and are available at a moment's notice for anything. We call them "reliable friends."
But when we have people in our life that are all of the above, what do we call them?
Friday, June 27, 2008
A Revelation
COFFEE. That's what I was going to say. It's coffee that gets me going on a blog moment too. A nice big open window and hot cup of dark, creamy coffee and I am on a roll. Right now I'm just stuck with the coffee. But that's okay because I highly doubt I could live without the stuff, blogging or no blogging.
And a reliable computer always helps too. Still no word on the screen-freezing-wayfaring-wild-daring computer.
And a reliable computer always helps too. Still no word on the screen-freezing-wayfaring-wild-daring computer.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
On Sick Kids And Overnight Shipping
After a shockingly good night of sleep with no one asking me for a drink in the middle of the night and no one else puking, I am ready to hit the floor running. Oh wait; I already did hit the floor and in not the literal sense of the word, I am running.
I love waking up not a moment sooner than it's time to get up and realize that I had a nice, long night of sleep. I was even asleep before midnight last night so go ahead and call me an "early to bed-er." I don't mind that title once in a while in my life. Especially since I've been working on obtaining that title for quite some time now but my kids just don't seem to cooperate with my lofty aspirations.
Today looms before me in a this-is-going-to-be-a-long-and-tiring-day-way. Janae has her "final" two cavities scheduled to be filled and she is not too excited about going back. I say "final" because at 3 years old and having a dental history of 4 cavities, I have this annoying hunch that she will probably have many more cavities to fill as her life goes on.
I thought about meeting up with a friend of ours and heading to the lake as an incentive for Janae and the dentist appointment she would rather avoid but the 98 degree forecast mixed with 157% humidity made us realize that it was probably not The Best Day Of The Year To Go To The Lake. So, I'm enticing her with that tempting "Prize Box" that the dentist has at his office, just for Janae. And the fact that she has to "help" the dentist today and that they'll put a band aid in her mouth (they really do that while they're filling the teeth) and that she'll get her teeth painted, etc. etc. It's not really working. She says she doesn't want to "help" the dentist today.
Topping the situation off is Alex and the worrisome symptoms he's been fighting the past 10 days. It started with a runny nose and fever. Very predictable teething symptoms so I didn't start worrying. But, now he's got a bad cough, low grade fever off and on and a pretty good size lump under his ear (presumably a swollen lymph node.) Plus, he's been puking every morning. Well, actually, it's been 2 mornings in a row so maybe "every" is a little extreme. Especially since he's not up yet this morning so today hasn't proven itself yet. He's also quite irritable too -- except when he climbed a slide at the park and went right up into the huge playground contraption and attempted to go down another slide. He seems to be sleeping more than usual as well.
Now, if you Google all those symptoms together, you may be tempted to just call an ambulance and rush him to the doctor ASAP and assume the worse. Or just skip a doctor and head right to an oncologist instead. But, if you happen to notice in your research, woven through out the dreadful diseases that are associated with his symptoms, you will find without looking very hard that he indeed has every symptom of "The Common Cold," a "Viral Infection" and "Teething." So yeah... I'm pretty much confused/worried/don't know what to do. I have a pretty good idea that I'll end up taking him in today or tomorrow. Or maybe I won't.
Since having my third baby, I don't worry hardly at all anymore. I almost worry about the fact that I don't worry anymore. Like this last week when Landon was sick... he had a 104.5 fever late one afternoon and normally (by normally I mean, back when I only had one baby) I would've ripped his clothes off, double checked the temperature rectally, sponge bathed him in a tub of lukewarm water, put cold rags on his forehead, called the doctor, researched his symptoms online and started wondering what life was going to be like without him. But now, I just say, "Oh, that's kinda high, Bud." And I give him his next dose of Motrin, take off his shirt and ask him if he wants a Popsicle. Then we all pile in the stroller and walk down to the park.
Toby has been having some long days at work lately and it never ceases to amaze me how usually on the first hottest day of the year, he is ALWAYS on a difficult job. (high, steep, large, roof with several layers of shingles needing to be removed and new sheeting put on the roof.) It's as if he purposely must decide to do those jobs on the day of the year that is predicted to be one of the worst. Of course it's all fate and he has nothing to do with planning but seriously, this happens all. the. time.
Tonight he has Bible study at the jail so he'll just head from his job to a pit stop (where he'll "clean up" and change) and then go to jail from there. It just dawned on me that I won't see him for about 15 hours today. These kinds of days make me think that maybe I should just take a road trip and visit my family for a weekend. But, then I remember that even though it will be all of 15 hours that we're apart today, we WILL sleep in the same place tonight and that's what makes these long, hard days only part of our life and not ALL of it. So, as long as he's coming home every night, I'm gonna be there waiting for him.
Yesterday proved to be one of those "Life Is Good" days where I felt like I had gotten out of bed for a reason. About 10 loads of laundry (several with puke on them--and I just don't do puke) and tons of dirty dishes and soiled bed sheets and dirty floors and a messy house gave me so many reasons to have purpose for the day. I am not one to ask for help and usually put off doing that because I hate making people feel obligated. Or responsible for my work. Or imposing on other's days. Maybe it's a pride thing or maybe I don't want to take advantage of people, but I just do not ask for help.
But it dawned on me in the last month or so that most (and when I say most, I mean about 98.9% of families) have someone to rely on for a helping hand. Or a babysitter. And usually grandparents fill that need and are a reliable source of strength and help. But, I've noticed that a lot of my friends have someone else to rely on as well... a family member, or a young girl that comes once a week, or a close friend.... you get my point. I realized that in each case, a relationship was established first and then the "we're here for each other" mode kicked in and just like that, every major task you faced is shared with this close person.
A young girl in our area has repeatedly offered to help me and I decided to just take her up on that offer. I mean really, she did offer several times. And I did have a house full of puke. When I called, I found out she had company for the day but was more than able to watch my kids at her house if that would help me out. I jumped on that and for 4 hours, I got ALL my work done. That hasn't happened in probably 3 months or so. And I'm talking about house jobs that most people do once a week.
Even though I only have 3 kids and the older two are becoming more responsible in doing tasks I give them, there is still the constant supervision that can become so distracting when you're trying to get something done yourself. Hanging your head over a toilet while you clean it out makes it hard to watch the kids across the house that are fighting over who gets to put the spoons away. Running downstairs to switch a load of laundry gives a three-year-old just enough time to run out the front door and hide in the van. Vacuuming in the living room also gives the said child ample time to find her vitamins in the fridge and run to her room with a mouthful of pills and the rest of the bottle heading to a place under her bed. Or the four-year-old will decide to wash his hands with a half-a-bottle of soap simply because you are in the kitchen sweeping and can't see him.
Needless to say, I really appreciated the effort made by the family that kept the kids for a few hours. And from the dirty faces and feet and happy smiles, I have a pretty good idea that Landon and Janae enjoyed digging in a sandbox, playing with bunnies and swinging in a tire swing that went higher than our roof. Landon's only concern was when he came home, found a clean house and a stray blanket laying haphazardly on the floor in his room... "What's that doing there Mom?"
Since this has turned into a "Family Update" post, I may as well top it off with the latest marvel in my life: Free Overnight Shipping! I can't seem to wrap my head around that magical phenomenon! It must be another marvel of the 21st century like the Internet is.
The Internet is one thing I never can quite understand... all these websites that have no tangible location where everything is headquartered at. It's like we connect with drifting planets that sweep back and forth through the atmosphere and through invisible and technical connections, we connect wirelessly. Have you ever thought that The Internet is the place where gazillions of websites are based in but there's no huge building any where in the world that is a physical location where the website sits? No monumental location of "The First Ebay Website." No parking at the building of "Blogger.com" where you can go to see the real-life permutations of the places you visit daily from your desk chair. There is no such thing. Are these all figments of our imaginations and we've all become equally disillusioned? Are we an entire society wrapped up in imaginary places? (I hope you're not taking me seriously.)
Back to Free Overnight Shipping... I ordered some sandals from a website late yesterday and according to my order sheet (and the guy who answered the phone when I called the company just to make sure this was all for real), my package is destined to arrive today. Like, sometime today. I placed my order late yesterday... as in, almost evening time. And they're supposed to come today. Now, I don't know where this company is located but I can guarantee I haven't seen this store title any where around here. But, just waiting for my order, an airplane sat parked on the runway in hopes that my credit card would send an instant signal for a pair of sandals to be put on that plane and when that happened, down the runway the jet sailed, all the way to an airport near me where the package was then put on a truck and sent directly to my doorstep.
In a matter of hours.
For free.
I just don't understand that. No wonder the economy is crashing -- the whole world is revolving around a stupid pair of sandals that set the course for a whole night's job for a huge chain of people and planes and trucks and companies for free.
I can promise you I'll enjoy those sandals. Unless they don't fit. Then they go back to the place they came from and I don't pay a cent for that either because it's called, "Free Return Shipping." I know... life just isn't fair, is it?
Well, that about sums up the gist of my blog moment for the day. Gotta get back to the grind and get the kids cleaned up and fed and out the door to the dentist office. I keep hearing a three-year-old make interesting noises on the floor above me and I have a pretty good idea she's looking for another dose of her vitamins while I'm not looking.
I love waking up not a moment sooner than it's time to get up and realize that I had a nice, long night of sleep. I was even asleep before midnight last night so go ahead and call me an "early to bed-er." I don't mind that title once in a while in my life. Especially since I've been working on obtaining that title for quite some time now but my kids just don't seem to cooperate with my lofty aspirations.
Today looms before me in a this-is-going-to-be-a-long-and-tiring-day-way. Janae has her "final" two cavities scheduled to be filled and she is not too excited about going back. I say "final" because at 3 years old and having a dental history of 4 cavities, I have this annoying hunch that she will probably have many more cavities to fill as her life goes on.
I thought about meeting up with a friend of ours and heading to the lake as an incentive for Janae and the dentist appointment she would rather avoid but the 98 degree forecast mixed with 157% humidity made us realize that it was probably not The Best Day Of The Year To Go To The Lake. So, I'm enticing her with that tempting "Prize Box" that the dentist has at his office, just for Janae. And the fact that she has to "help" the dentist today and that they'll put a band aid in her mouth (they really do that while they're filling the teeth) and that she'll get her teeth painted, etc. etc. It's not really working. She says she doesn't want to "help" the dentist today.
Topping the situation off is Alex and the worrisome symptoms he's been fighting the past 10 days. It started with a runny nose and fever. Very predictable teething symptoms so I didn't start worrying. But, now he's got a bad cough, low grade fever off and on and a pretty good size lump under his ear (presumably a swollen lymph node.) Plus, he's been puking every morning. Well, actually, it's been 2 mornings in a row so maybe "every" is a little extreme. Especially since he's not up yet this morning so today hasn't proven itself yet. He's also quite irritable too -- except when he climbed a slide at the park and went right up into the huge playground contraption and attempted to go down another slide. He seems to be sleeping more than usual as well.
Now, if you Google all those symptoms together, you may be tempted to just call an ambulance and rush him to the doctor ASAP and assume the worse. Or just skip a doctor and head right to an oncologist instead. But, if you happen to notice in your research, woven through out the dreadful diseases that are associated with his symptoms, you will find without looking very hard that he indeed has every symptom of "The Common Cold," a "Viral Infection" and "Teething." So yeah... I'm pretty much confused/worried/don't know what to do. I have a pretty good idea that I'll end up taking him in today or tomorrow. Or maybe I won't.
Since having my third baby, I don't worry hardly at all anymore. I almost worry about the fact that I don't worry anymore. Like this last week when Landon was sick... he had a 104.5 fever late one afternoon and normally (by normally I mean, back when I only had one baby) I would've ripped his clothes off, double checked the temperature rectally, sponge bathed him in a tub of lukewarm water, put cold rags on his forehead, called the doctor, researched his symptoms online and started wondering what life was going to be like without him. But now, I just say, "Oh, that's kinda high, Bud." And I give him his next dose of Motrin, take off his shirt and ask him if he wants a Popsicle. Then we all pile in the stroller and walk down to the park.
Toby has been having some long days at work lately and it never ceases to amaze me how usually on the first hottest day of the year, he is ALWAYS on a difficult job. (high, steep, large, roof with several layers of shingles needing to be removed and new sheeting put on the roof.) It's as if he purposely must decide to do those jobs on the day of the year that is predicted to be one of the worst. Of course it's all fate and he has nothing to do with planning but seriously, this happens all. the. time.
Tonight he has Bible study at the jail so he'll just head from his job to a pit stop (where he'll "clean up" and change) and then go to jail from there. It just dawned on me that I won't see him for about 15 hours today. These kinds of days make me think that maybe I should just take a road trip and visit my family for a weekend. But, then I remember that even though it will be all of 15 hours that we're apart today, we WILL sleep in the same place tonight and that's what makes these long, hard days only part of our life and not ALL of it. So, as long as he's coming home every night, I'm gonna be there waiting for him.
Yesterday proved to be one of those "Life Is Good" days where I felt like I had gotten out of bed for a reason. About 10 loads of laundry (several with puke on them--and I just don't do puke) and tons of dirty dishes and soiled bed sheets and dirty floors and a messy house gave me so many reasons to have purpose for the day. I am not one to ask for help and usually put off doing that because I hate making people feel obligated. Or responsible for my work. Or imposing on other's days. Maybe it's a pride thing or maybe I don't want to take advantage of people, but I just do not ask for help.
But it dawned on me in the last month or so that most (and when I say most, I mean about 98.9% of families) have someone to rely on for a helping hand. Or a babysitter. And usually grandparents fill that need and are a reliable source of strength and help. But, I've noticed that a lot of my friends have someone else to rely on as well... a family member, or a young girl that comes once a week, or a close friend.... you get my point. I realized that in each case, a relationship was established first and then the "we're here for each other" mode kicked in and just like that, every major task you faced is shared with this close person.
A young girl in our area has repeatedly offered to help me and I decided to just take her up on that offer. I mean really, she did offer several times. And I did have a house full of puke. When I called, I found out she had company for the day but was more than able to watch my kids at her house if that would help me out. I jumped on that and for 4 hours, I got ALL my work done. That hasn't happened in probably 3 months or so. And I'm talking about house jobs that most people do once a week.
Even though I only have 3 kids and the older two are becoming more responsible in doing tasks I give them, there is still the constant supervision that can become so distracting when you're trying to get something done yourself. Hanging your head over a toilet while you clean it out makes it hard to watch the kids across the house that are fighting over who gets to put the spoons away. Running downstairs to switch a load of laundry gives a three-year-old just enough time to run out the front door and hide in the van. Vacuuming in the living room also gives the said child ample time to find her vitamins in the fridge and run to her room with a mouthful of pills and the rest of the bottle heading to a place under her bed. Or the four-year-old will decide to wash his hands with a half-a-bottle of soap simply because you are in the kitchen sweeping and can't see him.
Needless to say, I really appreciated the effort made by the family that kept the kids for a few hours. And from the dirty faces and feet and happy smiles, I have a pretty good idea that Landon and Janae enjoyed digging in a sandbox, playing with bunnies and swinging in a tire swing that went higher than our roof. Landon's only concern was when he came home, found a clean house and a stray blanket laying haphazardly on the floor in his room... "What's that doing there Mom?"
Since this has turned into a "Family Update" post, I may as well top it off with the latest marvel in my life: Free Overnight Shipping! I can't seem to wrap my head around that magical phenomenon! It must be another marvel of the 21st century like the Internet is.
The Internet is one thing I never can quite understand... all these websites that have no tangible location where everything is headquartered at. It's like we connect with drifting planets that sweep back and forth through the atmosphere and through invisible and technical connections, we connect wirelessly. Have you ever thought that The Internet is the place where gazillions of websites are based in but there's no huge building any where in the world that is a physical location where the website sits? No monumental location of "The First Ebay Website." No parking at the building of "Blogger.com" where you can go to see the real-life permutations of the places you visit daily from your desk chair. There is no such thing. Are these all figments of our imaginations and we've all become equally disillusioned? Are we an entire society wrapped up in imaginary places? (I hope you're not taking me seriously.)
Back to Free Overnight Shipping... I ordered some sandals from a website late yesterday and according to my order sheet (and the guy who answered the phone when I called the company just to make sure this was all for real), my package is destined to arrive today. Like, sometime today. I placed my order late yesterday... as in, almost evening time. And they're supposed to come today. Now, I don't know where this company is located but I can guarantee I haven't seen this store title any where around here. But, just waiting for my order, an airplane sat parked on the runway in hopes that my credit card would send an instant signal for a pair of sandals to be put on that plane and when that happened, down the runway the jet sailed, all the way to an airport near me where the package was then put on a truck and sent directly to my doorstep.
In a matter of hours.
For free.
I just don't understand that. No wonder the economy is crashing -- the whole world is revolving around a stupid pair of sandals that set the course for a whole night's job for a huge chain of people and planes and trucks and companies for free.
I can promise you I'll enjoy those sandals. Unless they don't fit. Then they go back to the place they came from and I don't pay a cent for that either because it's called, "Free Return Shipping." I know... life just isn't fair, is it?
Well, that about sums up the gist of my blog moment for the day. Gotta get back to the grind and get the kids cleaned up and fed and out the door to the dentist office. I keep hearing a three-year-old make interesting noises on the floor above me and I have a pretty good idea she's looking for another dose of her vitamins while I'm not looking.
Monday, June 23, 2008
In Sickness and Health
You know that little note they stick in wedding vows, "In Sickness and Health?" I always thought that meant in the couple's sickness and health but after having kids, I found that it included them too.
That's where we're at today. Landon complained of a headache in church Sunday night, proceeded to feeling quite warm and feverish and commenced complaining about the headache the whole way home from church. And all night. And now all morning. He basically has a headache (if he knows what a headache is for sure???) and a fever. He's getting The Treatment which means he got some yummy medicine and now gets to sleep under a fan in Mom and Dad's bed. How much better can life get? (when you're sick, of course.)
After my own restless night of not sleeping well and trying to rationalize why Janae felt it necessary to ask for a "rink" (drink) and then be satisfied and go back to bed when all I did was answer, "you had one at bedtime" and then having her get up a couple hours later to turn the bathroom light on because she thought it was too dark in the house to having Landon come in, ask for a drink, head to the kitchen to get his own drink but instead lay in the hallway and wait for me and then keep coming in the rest of the morning to ask for this or that and comment on this or that, or tell me about this or that.
Despite having a bad night of rest AND having a sick kid to top it off, I already had a full day planned. Lots to do. Projects to complete. New projects to start. Errands to run. Cleaning to do. And more cleaning. Laundry. Painting. Etc. Pretty much, my schedule was full. But, I guess this is where that invariable, unavoidable, unplanned for "in sickness and health" comes in.
Which brings me back to the basis of this all. Marriage is a big package. It seems to effect every aspect of life... sickness, health, poverty, riches, etc, you get the idea. But, there's one thing I love about being married. At the end of every day, no matter how awful/good the day is, there is one foundational and unchangeable part of every day: the part of the day when everyone goes to their own beds and the house is dark and quiet. I love that part. I love knowing that no matter how busy I am or distracted Toby is, we still have a common denominator: our bed. The house can be a mess, our days can be full and keep us separated, the kids can be sick, but we still have something that doesn't change: our bed.
Sometimes the day starts with a lurch. The alarm goes off, the phones start ringing, the kids are crying, the baby needs milk, Toby gets ready for work, I head to the shower and wham! just like that, the day is in a headlong tumble towards an endless cycle of vicious circles of everything to do and not enough time to do it.
But, I can rest assured when I peer through the whirling foggy world our day suddenly is, and know that even if I don't see Toby for the rest of the day or have the opportunity to talk to him on his phone, or even see him at the supper table, it's okay; I'll find him after the dust has settled, the noise has quieted, the phones are off and the lights have dimmed and he'll be sleeping next to me. I love that we both can stumble off into our busy worlds and feel content to know that no matter how busy we get or how much we have to do, we'll be waiting for each other at the end of the day.
There's something sweet, contented and peaceful about resting next to the one you pledged your life to. It's a picture of trust. Of love. Of no matter what happened today, we're still here together. And that's my favorite part about being married. Just the quite togetherness of doing nothing other than sleeping and resting. And recharging for yet another busy day and endless cycle of vicious circles...blah, blah, blah... you get my point.
Everyone must go to their bed at some point in their day and I'm glad I get to go to the same bed as Somebody else I know. I don't need a cruise or a Caribbean get-a-way or even a romantic date night; in sickness and health, as long as we both shall live, just put my pillow next to his and I'm content with that.
That's where we're at today. Landon complained of a headache in church Sunday night, proceeded to feeling quite warm and feverish and commenced complaining about the headache the whole way home from church. And all night. And now all morning. He basically has a headache (if he knows what a headache is for sure???) and a fever. He's getting The Treatment which means he got some yummy medicine and now gets to sleep under a fan in Mom and Dad's bed. How much better can life get? (when you're sick, of course.)
After my own restless night of not sleeping well and trying to rationalize why Janae felt it necessary to ask for a "rink" (drink) and then be satisfied and go back to bed when all I did was answer, "you had one at bedtime" and then having her get up a couple hours later to turn the bathroom light on because she thought it was too dark in the house to having Landon come in, ask for a drink, head to the kitchen to get his own drink but instead lay in the hallway and wait for me and then keep coming in the rest of the morning to ask for this or that and comment on this or that, or tell me about this or that.
Despite having a bad night of rest AND having a sick kid to top it off, I already had a full day planned. Lots to do. Projects to complete. New projects to start. Errands to run. Cleaning to do. And more cleaning. Laundry. Painting. Etc. Pretty much, my schedule was full. But, I guess this is where that invariable, unavoidable, unplanned for "in sickness and health" comes in.
Which brings me back to the basis of this all. Marriage is a big package. It seems to effect every aspect of life... sickness, health, poverty, riches, etc, you get the idea. But, there's one thing I love about being married. At the end of every day, no matter how awful/good the day is, there is one foundational and unchangeable part of every day: the part of the day when everyone goes to their own beds and the house is dark and quiet. I love that part. I love knowing that no matter how busy I am or distracted Toby is, we still have a common denominator: our bed. The house can be a mess, our days can be full and keep us separated, the kids can be sick, but we still have something that doesn't change: our bed.
Sometimes the day starts with a lurch. The alarm goes off, the phones start ringing, the kids are crying, the baby needs milk, Toby gets ready for work, I head to the shower and wham! just like that, the day is in a headlong tumble towards an endless cycle of vicious circles of everything to do and not enough time to do it.
But, I can rest assured when I peer through the whirling foggy world our day suddenly is, and know that even if I don't see Toby for the rest of the day or have the opportunity to talk to him on his phone, or even see him at the supper table, it's okay; I'll find him after the dust has settled, the noise has quieted, the phones are off and the lights have dimmed and he'll be sleeping next to me. I love that we both can stumble off into our busy worlds and feel content to know that no matter how busy we get or how much we have to do, we'll be waiting for each other at the end of the day.
There's something sweet, contented and peaceful about resting next to the one you pledged your life to. It's a picture of trust. Of love. Of no matter what happened today, we're still here together. And that's my favorite part about being married. Just the quite togetherness of doing nothing other than sleeping and resting. And recharging for yet another busy day and endless cycle of vicious circles...blah, blah, blah... you get my point.
Everyone must go to their bed at some point in their day and I'm glad I get to go to the same bed as Somebody else I know. I don't need a cruise or a Caribbean get-a-way or even a romantic date night; in sickness and health, as long as we both shall live, just put my pillow next to his and I'm content with that.
Landon Lines, Tierra Times
Time To Go
Landon had an urgent request... "Mom, Brittney wants us at her house really bad. They can't wait very long for us to get there."
A 7-yr-old's Research on 'The Old Days'
"Hey Courtney," my 7-year-old neice, Tierra, called from the back of the van. "Did you know that Fredda is from the old days?" (she was referring to her 70-some-year-old great-aunt.)
"Really? How do you know that?" I questioned.
"Because she got her sewing machine then and her sewing machine is from the old days," she informed me.
"Oh!" was all I could say, surprised at the logic.
"And she also lived in a house without lights," my neice went on. "And she had to get up during the night and feed cows and that's what they did in 'the old days.' "
They Do Hear What We Say
"Did you know your eyes are bigger than your stomach, Courtney?" Tierra informed me. Realizing her intention was to fill me in on an important fact, I didn't want to squelch her enthusiasm so I asked how she knew that. "Because my mom told me that once," was her honest answer.
Fire and Fier
"Why is there 'fire' in 'pacifier'?" Tierra asked me. (Try explaining that one.)
Dad Always Knows
Piping from the back seat, my niece Tierra had another question... "Hey Courtney, do you know the way from Omaha to Haiti?"
"No, I don't Tierra; do you?" I asked.
To which she replied, "No, I don't but I bet my dad does."
Grandma IS Older Than Mom
Tierra had another piece of (mis)information for me. Realizing she has learned that 30 IS younger than 31, I can understand that even a year to a 7-yr-old makes a big difference. It was still amusing to consider this "fact" from Tierra... "Courtney, did you know that my mom is 30 and my Grandma is 31?"
Landon had an urgent request... "Mom, Brittney wants us at her house really bad. They can't wait very long for us to get there."
A 7-yr-old's Research on 'The Old Days'
"Hey Courtney," my 7-year-old neice, Tierra, called from the back of the van. "Did you know that Fredda is from the old days?" (she was referring to her 70-some-year-old great-aunt.)
"Really? How do you know that?" I questioned.
"Because she got her sewing machine then and her sewing machine is from the old days," she informed me.
"Oh!" was all I could say, surprised at the logic.
"And she also lived in a house without lights," my neice went on. "And she had to get up during the night and feed cows and that's what they did in 'the old days.' "
They Do Hear What We Say
"Did you know your eyes are bigger than your stomach, Courtney?" Tierra informed me. Realizing her intention was to fill me in on an important fact, I didn't want to squelch her enthusiasm so I asked how she knew that. "Because my mom told me that once," was her honest answer.
Fire and Fier
"Why is there 'fire' in 'pacifier'?" Tierra asked me. (Try explaining that one.)
Dad Always Knows
Piping from the back seat, my niece Tierra had another question... "Hey Courtney, do you know the way from Omaha to Haiti?"
"No, I don't Tierra; do you?" I asked.
To which she replied, "No, I don't but I bet my dad does."
Grandma IS Older Than Mom
Tierra had another piece of (mis)information for me. Realizing she has learned that 30 IS younger than 31, I can understand that even a year to a 7-yr-old makes a big difference. It was still amusing to consider this "fact" from Tierra... "Courtney, did you know that my mom is 30 and my Grandma is 31?"
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Just Another Day
All afternoon yesterday, my computer worked fine. Just fine. Even when I picked it up and set it down a couple times. I credit it to flipping it over and smacking the underside just hours prior to when it started functioning correctly. Today now, nothing on my computer is working. I saw my email screen for about 2.9 seconds and then the Code Blue screen took over from there. That's pretty much how it's been going ever since.
I read yesterday's paper today, minus the Sports section. I feel bad that with all the words that somebody takes time to put in the paper, it's doubtful that most papers get entirely read. I mean, who has time to read every word and section of the paper? I think the paper is slightly under rated; you should take time and learn about all the police calls and business changes that happen daily in your world, in your town and in your neighborhoods. You might be surprised -- even if it is day old news.
My mom called today to tell me she was having surgery this afternoon. Just like that... "How ya doin? What's goin' on? I'm having surgery today. How's your day?" Yeah. Basically like that. 536 miles really hurts today. Especially considering part of our route is under water in Iowa. Right before she called, I was reading in the paper how some Iowans are taking plane trips between towns that normally are 30 minutes apart on the road. But, with the flooding, the recommended detour takes hours. The plane ride results in about 15 minutes of travel time. Not bad but also not entirely promising when you have a van load of luggage and you NEED to drive on that stretch of road that would normally take minutes. I wonder if those little Cessnas would have luggage room for a Honda Odyssey?
Seriously though, the long distant family members advised me to not worry; this was an "outpatient" operation and would not be considered high risk. That's fine and I'm glad but really, the destination I'm thinking of that's at the end of that 536 miles feels like it may as well be at the other side of the globe. I want to go "home."
I woke up with a sore throat and most of the cold-like symptoms that go with a.... you guessed it: A Cold. Janae's lip is still swollen and kind of whitish but she's not complaining. Ironically enough, she just fell out of bed when I started writing about her lip. I've learned that with her, if she's critically injured, she doesn't really cry. So, if after hearing a thud and you notice there is no crying/wailing/sobbing or other injury related sounds, it is best to examine the scene and make sure she is okay. But, in the event you do hear sounds of "general displeasure," she's in fact and in deed perfectly fine. (It was the latter in her case today). If falling out of bed results in prolonging the impending naptime that usually comes with being in bed this time of day, she'll take that option.
Well, this post is rather disconnected and dismantled. I'm on the basement computer today so can find no inspiration from the windows I need to be motivated by while writing a blog. I know that's weird but really, this is another proven piece of evidence that supports my theory. So, chalk it up to that and the fact that last night, the cat caught a mouse just feet from where I'm sitting. Bless. her. heart. The world is one mouse short because of our cat.
I read yesterday's paper today, minus the Sports section. I feel bad that with all the words that somebody takes time to put in the paper, it's doubtful that most papers get entirely read. I mean, who has time to read every word and section of the paper? I think the paper is slightly under rated; you should take time and learn about all the police calls and business changes that happen daily in your world, in your town and in your neighborhoods. You might be surprised -- even if it is day old news.
My mom called today to tell me she was having surgery this afternoon. Just like that... "How ya doin? What's goin' on? I'm having surgery today. How's your day?" Yeah. Basically like that. 536 miles really hurts today. Especially considering part of our route is under water in Iowa. Right before she called, I was reading in the paper how some Iowans are taking plane trips between towns that normally are 30 minutes apart on the road. But, with the flooding, the recommended detour takes hours. The plane ride results in about 15 minutes of travel time. Not bad but also not entirely promising when you have a van load of luggage and you NEED to drive on that stretch of road that would normally take minutes. I wonder if those little Cessnas would have luggage room for a Honda Odyssey?
Seriously though, the long distant family members advised me to not worry; this was an "outpatient" operation and would not be considered high risk. That's fine and I'm glad but really, the destination I'm thinking of that's at the end of that 536 miles feels like it may as well be at the other side of the globe. I want to go "home."
I woke up with a sore throat and most of the cold-like symptoms that go with a.... you guessed it: A Cold. Janae's lip is still swollen and kind of whitish but she's not complaining. Ironically enough, she just fell out of bed when I started writing about her lip. I've learned that with her, if she's critically injured, she doesn't really cry. So, if after hearing a thud and you notice there is no crying/wailing/sobbing or other injury related sounds, it is best to examine the scene and make sure she is okay. But, in the event you do hear sounds of "general displeasure," she's in fact and in deed perfectly fine. (It was the latter in her case today). If falling out of bed results in prolonging the impending naptime that usually comes with being in bed this time of day, she'll take that option.
Well, this post is rather disconnected and dismantled. I'm on the basement computer today so can find no inspiration from the windows I need to be motivated by while writing a blog. I know that's weird but really, this is another proven piece of evidence that supports my theory. So, chalk it up to that and the fact that last night, the cat caught a mouse just feet from where I'm sitting. Bless. her. heart. The world is one mouse short because of our cat.
Monday, June 16, 2008
How To Fit 4 Of Something Into 3 Of Something
At three-years-old, Janae has something I have never had: FOUR cavities. That's more cavities than years and probably the only time you can fit 4 into 3. I know... bad, bad. I can assure the "concerned" (judgemental) people that yes, she brushes her teeth daily and has been doing so for over a year. Actually, she gets help brushing her teeth so in case that concerns you as well, no, we do not put our child's dental health in their responsibility... at least not when our child is only 3.
So, she went to have 2 of her 4 cavities filled today and she did GREAT. Never cried or fought or resisted or screamed or pushed away or... you get the idea. She just laid there and smiled. And no, they didn't knock her out. It was just the old fashioned numb-the-gum with Novacaine!
BUT, on the way home, when she was just beyond my view in the rear view mirror, she chewed ravenously on her numb lip. Folks, she looks horrible. It's chewed, swollen and bloody.
Pray she heals fast because once the Novocaine wears off, she is in for one huge load of pain.
Oh, and we go back in 10 days to have the other 2 teeth filled. After this is all done, that's $534.00 worth of work done on teeth she will be putting under her pillow in a few years.
So, she went to have 2 of her 4 cavities filled today and she did GREAT. Never cried or fought or resisted or screamed or pushed away or... you get the idea. She just laid there and smiled. And no, they didn't knock her out. It was just the old fashioned numb-the-gum with Novacaine!
BUT, on the way home, when she was just beyond my view in the rear view mirror, she chewed ravenously on her numb lip. Folks, she looks horrible. It's chewed, swollen and bloody.
Pray she heals fast because once the Novocaine wears off, she is in for one huge load of pain.
Oh, and we go back in 10 days to have the other 2 teeth filled. After this is all done, that's $534.00 worth of work done on teeth she will be putting under her pillow in a few years.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Back To Normal
Well, my computer is home. For the time being. Before we all have a "welcome home" party for this unreliable peice of technology, let me break this to you softly: I'm afraid to get too attached to this laptop and I'm fantasizing thoughts that maybe my computer is a scientific experiment that computer geeks will dub "Disposable Computer." Which really isn't a bad thing because just think about what you CAN'T buy that isn't disposable? Everything you buy, you have the option of getting it disposable or indisposable. I meant to buy an indisposable laptop but apparently they had the packaging messed up when I bought this one.
It's like a sick patient that needs hospice care. Only you can't set up hospice for a computer.
I've had this laptop just a month over a year (ie., 13 months). The hardrive (or is it hard drive?) was replaced once and wiped another time. The bottom of the laptop heats to a temperature comparable to your iron. My skirts are always nice and smooth at the top because of this added feature on my laptop computer.
So anyway. I thought my trouble would be over but apparently not. Even getting this thing "fixed" was an ordeal.
Like the day I called Best Buy three days after they told me this would be done. I found the number in the phone book and called. No big deal but I had heard horror stories about how hard it was to actually talk to a computer rep.
The phone rang and rang and rang and rang. And continued to ring. I didn't know a phone could ring so many times without going hoarse. But, I had been warned so shrugged it off. Finally, somebody answered and asked if they could help me.
"Hi! I'm calling to check on my computer that was supposed to be fixed 3 days ago. Just wondering if I can come in and pick it up," I said.
The receptionist acted like she knew who I was, what computer I was talking about and simply needed to look in the "Ready For Pick-up" bin. "Let me check. Hold on please," she said.
Wow! They actually knew me without asking for my name, telephone number, social security number, serial number on my computer and order number on the sheet of paper they gave when I brought my computer in for repair.
I waited for several minutes. Finally, another person got on the line. They needed my name and number. My hopes for personal ties with the first receptionist were dashed when I realized I was just another number. Just another phone call. Just another person with a broken computer.
So, I gave them my number.
About 47 seconds later, they needed my number again.
35 seconds later, they asked again for my number.
In a 4 minute phone call, they asked for my phone number 4 times. FOUR times in a FOUR minute phone call. Okay folks, that's on average once a minute.
They couldn't help me very speedily so they took my number down that last time, told me they'd call back later since their (okay, get this): computer wasn't working right.
It took all my self control, personal dignity and an intense measure of patience to not blurt out that I knew the place where they should send their computer to get fixed.
I got a call a few days later that my computer was ready for pick up. Last night I went into town and got it. There was nothing dangerous, scary or impressive about picking it up. I checked my email after I got home and felt good that maybe my computer was back to normal. This morning I realized that it is back to normal. But, normal doesn't always mean predictable or reliable or good. Normal in this case means: just the way it was when you sent it in for repair.
Not to dash your hopes or oust the good luck I'm sure you all have been sending me but I need to be honest and tell you right now that this computer has been blinking weirdly and crashed TWICE since starting this blog. I've seen the "configuring updates" and "please wait" signs more often than not since I attempted a blog today. And that blue screen... ugh. It's shown it's face too. Only this time it has white, vertical stripes with it. So, I guess it's a little fancier than it was before.
I think we're back to normal one again and before my computer goes into it's perpetual "disposable" mode, I'm dashing my mouse to the "publish post" button just so cyber space will know that I'm still out there somewhere, floating around trying to connect with the blog world while dealing with that disgusting Code Blue screen that cuts me off entirely from the life-line found in the twenty-first century called: The Internet.
It's like a sick patient that needs hospice care. Only you can't set up hospice for a computer.
I've had this laptop just a month over a year (ie., 13 months). The hardrive (or is it hard drive?) was replaced once and wiped another time. The bottom of the laptop heats to a temperature comparable to your iron. My skirts are always nice and smooth at the top because of this added feature on my laptop computer.
So anyway. I thought my trouble would be over but apparently not. Even getting this thing "fixed" was an ordeal.
Like the day I called Best Buy three days after they told me this would be done. I found the number in the phone book and called. No big deal but I had heard horror stories about how hard it was to actually talk to a computer rep.
The phone rang and rang and rang and rang. And continued to ring. I didn't know a phone could ring so many times without going hoarse. But, I had been warned so shrugged it off. Finally, somebody answered and asked if they could help me.
"Hi! I'm calling to check on my computer that was supposed to be fixed 3 days ago. Just wondering if I can come in and pick it up," I said.
The receptionist acted like she knew who I was, what computer I was talking about and simply needed to look in the "Ready For Pick-up" bin. "Let me check. Hold on please," she said.
Wow! They actually knew me without asking for my name, telephone number, social security number, serial number on my computer and order number on the sheet of paper they gave when I brought my computer in for repair.
I waited for several minutes. Finally, another person got on the line. They needed my name and number. My hopes for personal ties with the first receptionist were dashed when I realized I was just another number. Just another phone call. Just another person with a broken computer.
So, I gave them my number.
About 47 seconds later, they needed my number again.
35 seconds later, they asked again for my number.
In a 4 minute phone call, they asked for my phone number 4 times. FOUR times in a FOUR minute phone call. Okay folks, that's on average once a minute.
They couldn't help me very speedily so they took my number down that last time, told me they'd call back later since their (okay, get this): computer wasn't working right.
It took all my self control, personal dignity and an intense measure of patience to not blurt out that I knew the place where they should send their computer to get fixed.
I got a call a few days later that my computer was ready for pick up. Last night I went into town and got it. There was nothing dangerous, scary or impressive about picking it up. I checked my email after I got home and felt good that maybe my computer was back to normal. This morning I realized that it is back to normal. But, normal doesn't always mean predictable or reliable or good. Normal in this case means: just the way it was when you sent it in for repair.
Not to dash your hopes or oust the good luck I'm sure you all have been sending me but I need to be honest and tell you right now that this computer has been blinking weirdly and crashed TWICE since starting this blog. I've seen the "configuring updates" and "please wait" signs more often than not since I attempted a blog today. And that blue screen... ugh. It's shown it's face too. Only this time it has white, vertical stripes with it. So, I guess it's a little fancier than it was before.
I think we're back to normal one again and before my computer goes into it's perpetual "disposable" mode, I'm dashing my mouse to the "publish post" button just so cyber space will know that I'm still out there somewhere, floating around trying to connect with the blog world while dealing with that disgusting Code Blue screen that cuts me off entirely from the life-line found in the twenty-first century called: The Internet.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Baby Elysha
We do everything to protect our children. To insure their health and safety. To keep them from harm. And to make them know without a doubt that we love them with a love that only a parent can have.
But, when you've done all you can and there's nothing more you can do, relinquishing a child; a little baby girl, to the Arms that created her precious life, has got to be the most heart breaking experience known to mankind.
Maybe it's because I have my own chubby baby just a few months older than Elysha that the thought of having to plan his funeral while he's still alive, makes it seem almost surreal to know that death is imminent. To know that time is so short, counting his breaths would be a treasure to cherish. And to know that memories are all I'll have in just a few short days.
Yet to remember that no matter how much a mother loves her child, God loves that child even more. And has a place not only in His heart but also in His kingdom where no harm can come to the child. Where all is peace and joy and love. I can't imagine knowing my child could be as safe as Elysha is destined to be in a few short days. But the aching arms left empty by her passing will need a sweet relief that only comes from The One who gives hope.
Even if you don't know this young family, keep them in your prayers.
But, when you've done all you can and there's nothing more you can do, relinquishing a child; a little baby girl, to the Arms that created her precious life, has got to be the most heart breaking experience known to mankind.
Maybe it's because I have my own chubby baby just a few months older than Elysha that the thought of having to plan his funeral while he's still alive, makes it seem almost surreal to know that death is imminent. To know that time is so short, counting his breaths would be a treasure to cherish. And to know that memories are all I'll have in just a few short days.
Yet to remember that no matter how much a mother loves her child, God loves that child even more. And has a place not only in His heart but also in His kingdom where no harm can come to the child. Where all is peace and joy and love. I can't imagine knowing my child could be as safe as Elysha is destined to be in a few short days. But the aching arms left empty by her passing will need a sweet relief that only comes from The One who gives hope.
Even if you don't know this young family, keep them in your prayers.
Monday, June 02, 2008
On Inspiration, Windows and Failing Computers
I am without my computer. The computer that I always use to blog on. The computer that has given me so many fits and trials since about a month after we got it. The computer that deleted all our Christmas 2007 pictures. Yeah, that computer.
Even though it's been a horrendous computer and hardly reliable, I shared a lot of blog moments on it. I hate to admit my personal feelings about a piece of technology and how it can best derive my thoughts from the cranial corners of my head but the truth be known: I relate best to blogspot.com when I can look out a window while writing. It's always been that way. When I need inspiration and I can't quite think of the word, I look out a window. Yeah... I know... you probably think I'm a tree hugger now but really, I'm not. It's just a change of scenery that I find out a window that inspires me.
The reason I'm blogging right now is because I stole away to Toby's computer while he was away for a few minutes. I looked out the window long and hard before I came down here because, horror of horrors, his computer is firmly lodged in the darkest corner of our basement and there are no windows to look out of. Thus why this blog post is lacking in articulate lingualistics. (is that even a word? I have no window to look out of in order to find a better, more fitting, accurate description/word/phrase/something-like-that.)
So, until I get my computer back and until I can blog by an open window, my blog is taking a hiatus. Or going into hibernation. Or taking a break. Or waiting for the repair man to fix my computer. Or whatever way you want to look at it. Like I said, I'm lacking window inspired inspiration right now.
I meant to contact those of you that offered advice on the layout here. I will do that when I can more easily get in contact with my email without having a busy business man hang over my shoulder in hopes that I will just relinquish his computer back to him so that he can save the world one roof at a time.
For now, I'm going to go back upstairs look out a window and wonder what I may have forgotten to tell you just now. I'll be back when all is well... or when I have a, um, chance and time to ahhh, well, I just better go find a window since I totally lost my train of thought.
Even though it's been a horrendous computer and hardly reliable, I shared a lot of blog moments on it. I hate to admit my personal feelings about a piece of technology and how it can best derive my thoughts from the cranial corners of my head but the truth be known: I relate best to blogspot.com when I can look out a window while writing. It's always been that way. When I need inspiration and I can't quite think of the word, I look out a window. Yeah... I know... you probably think I'm a tree hugger now but really, I'm not. It's just a change of scenery that I find out a window that inspires me.
The reason I'm blogging right now is because I stole away to Toby's computer while he was away for a few minutes. I looked out the window long and hard before I came down here because, horror of horrors, his computer is firmly lodged in the darkest corner of our basement and there are no windows to look out of. Thus why this blog post is lacking in articulate lingualistics. (is that even a word? I have no window to look out of in order to find a better, more fitting, accurate description/word/phrase/something-like-that.)
So, until I get my computer back and until I can blog by an open window, my blog is taking a hiatus. Or going into hibernation. Or taking a break. Or waiting for the repair man to fix my computer. Or whatever way you want to look at it. Like I said, I'm lacking window inspired inspiration right now.
I meant to contact those of you that offered advice on the layout here. I will do that when I can more easily get in contact with my email without having a busy business man hang over my shoulder in hopes that I will just relinquish his computer back to him so that he can save the world one roof at a time.
For now, I'm going to go back upstairs look out a window and wonder what I may have forgotten to tell you just now. I'll be back when all is well... or when I have a, um, chance and time to ahhh, well, I just better go find a window since I totally lost my train of thought.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Kind Of Love To Know
Driving down the street the other day, reflecting on life and all it's aspects, I was thinking specifically about relationships. As you can tell from my blog, I've put a lot of thought into those lately.
Friendships mean a lot to me. I love all my friends and they each hold a special place in my heart. I seek to maintain relationships with them even if I'm out of reach, out of touch and out of state. But, I've learned that sometimes the people we love the most in life, are the ones we are most apt to hurt and to be hurt by.
As I drove along deep in thought, and all while missing a dear friend, I saw something that almost took my breath away. And when you're driving, it's not a good thing to stop breathing.
A young girl stood off the side walk. She was sad and crying. Something was really bothering her. But standing next to her, stood her friend. Holding her, comforting her, being there for her.
The most vivid thing I saw while I drove past was the arm of the friend around the girl's shoulders. Just a arm but yet how profound. It was a symbol of love. Of, "no matter what happens, I'm here." Of, getting so close to her hurting friend that she wanted to bear that burden. Hold her up. Keep her strong. And if that didn't work, just be there.
And then I realized that you don't always have to understand a friend in order to "be there" for them. That it doesn't matter what hurt them or how they're hurt, you can still "be there" for them. And that a strong arm on their shoulder, says a lot.
At that moment, I knew what I needed to do. The picture I saw in a flash as I drove past was one of love and care and faithfulness. I wanted to be that kind of friend to the friend I was missing. To show love. To show that I care. And to show that I'll be there, no matter what. I blinked the tears out of my eyes so I could see the road and I realized then what an impression that picture of love had made on my heart. And I knew what I needed to do.
If a friend can believe that you mean it when you say you love them and will be there through thick and thin, there is nothing more beautiful than having a token of their trust manifested through the same commitment they make to you. And a mutual trust, is a good thing to bank on.
God loved me first, unworthy though I am and so predictable of failure. And He loves me every single day. How can I except anything else from myself than giving my all when it comes to loving others? Who am I to think my love is special and must be rationed according to circumstances? If God loved me like that... I can't imagine where I'd be. How can I think I have a right to love others less than He loves me? Especially when I know He loves them too.
Love is stronger than death. And I have known that kind of love.
Friendships mean a lot to me. I love all my friends and they each hold a special place in my heart. I seek to maintain relationships with them even if I'm out of reach, out of touch and out of state. But, I've learned that sometimes the people we love the most in life, are the ones we are most apt to hurt and to be hurt by.
As I drove along deep in thought, and all while missing a dear friend, I saw something that almost took my breath away. And when you're driving, it's not a good thing to stop breathing.
A young girl stood off the side walk. She was sad and crying. Something was really bothering her. But standing next to her, stood her friend. Holding her, comforting her, being there for her.
The most vivid thing I saw while I drove past was the arm of the friend around the girl's shoulders. Just a arm but yet how profound. It was a symbol of love. Of, "no matter what happens, I'm here." Of, getting so close to her hurting friend that she wanted to bear that burden. Hold her up. Keep her strong. And if that didn't work, just be there.
And then I realized that you don't always have to understand a friend in order to "be there" for them. That it doesn't matter what hurt them or how they're hurt, you can still "be there" for them. And that a strong arm on their shoulder, says a lot.
At that moment, I knew what I needed to do. The picture I saw in a flash as I drove past was one of love and care and faithfulness. I wanted to be that kind of friend to the friend I was missing. To show love. To show that I care. And to show that I'll be there, no matter what. I blinked the tears out of my eyes so I could see the road and I realized then what an impression that picture of love had made on my heart. And I knew what I needed to do.
If a friend can believe that you mean it when you say you love them and will be there through thick and thin, there is nothing more beautiful than having a token of their trust manifested through the same commitment they make to you. And a mutual trust, is a good thing to bank on.
God loved me first, unworthy though I am and so predictable of failure. And He loves me every single day. How can I except anything else from myself than giving my all when it comes to loving others? Who am I to think my love is special and must be rationed according to circumstances? If God loved me like that... I can't imagine where I'd be. How can I think I have a right to love others less than He loves me? Especially when I know He loves them too.
Love is stronger than death. And I have known that kind of love.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
You Know You Miss A Good Friend...
when every time you see a vehicle like their's, you do a double take and hope that it's them. Or you wildly chase a white vehicle like their's, hoping that your eyes are seeing things and that the vehicle is really green.
All you can do is hope your friend misses you too and that they know, you really miss them.
All you can do is hope your friend misses you too and that they know, you really miss them.
Landon Lines, Janae Jems
Pet Names
"Hey there little noodle," Toby said affectionately to Janae. "I not a noon-al, 'Punkin'," Janae retorted right back.
Not Quite The Right Response... Unless You're Janae
"I'll be in there in a minute to help you Janae; Mommy has to make sandwiches first," I called from the kitchen to where she sat in the tub waiting for me to wash her up.
"I can!" she called back, using her infamous phrase for everything that always indicates her independence.
Shifting The Blame
After being caught disobeying a very detailed command, Toby asked Landon why he disobeyed. Landon had a very good reason. "I asked Jesus to help me but it didn't work," he said.
Perfection
While carrying a snake he had just caught, Landon made a detailed observation. "This snake is just perfec', Mom."
What You Pick Isn't Always What You Eat
While picking rocks behind the garage one day, I informed the kids that what we were doing was called, "picking rocks."
"But we can't eat these though," Landon informed us all.
"Hey there little noodle," Toby said affectionately to Janae. "I not a noon-al, 'Punkin'," Janae retorted right back.
Not Quite The Right Response... Unless You're Janae
"I'll be in there in a minute to help you Janae; Mommy has to make sandwiches first," I called from the kitchen to where she sat in the tub waiting for me to wash her up.
"I can!" she called back, using her infamous phrase for everything that always indicates her independence.
Shifting The Blame
After being caught disobeying a very detailed command, Toby asked Landon why he disobeyed. Landon had a very good reason. "I asked Jesus to help me but it didn't work," he said.
Perfection
While carrying a snake he had just caught, Landon made a detailed observation. "This snake is just perfec', Mom."
What You Pick Isn't Always What You Eat
While picking rocks behind the garage one day, I informed the kids that what we were doing was called, "picking rocks."
"But we can't eat these though," Landon informed us all.
Friday, May 23, 2008
On Change, Contemplations And Completions
I am right in the middle of two-full-of-change weeks. So much change and so much to contemplate and so much to complete!
A wonderful friend is heading to China for an indefinite amount of time. She plans to learn Mandarin and teach English. The rest of what she's doing sounds fun and exciting. Taking in the Olympics there will be a huge event in her life. I mean, really, how many of us have ever been to the Olympics?? The sad part about this departure is the fact that we did not bid each other good bye. (Wisconsin is too far away.)
Another close friend just returned from the desert of Africa. After playing phone tag for a couple days, we finally spoke. The visit was good and the pictures were fun but having both over a cup of coffee would be better. (Wisconsin is too far away.)
Yet another dear friend is heading to the sombreros of Mexico this week. Her blond hair and bright blue eyes will shock many as she launches into a fluent Ecuadorian accented Spanish. I was able to at least partially say good bye to her since she did just visit me a couple weeks ago. (Wisconsin is still too far away.)
And last, but definitely not least, my own favorite blond sister fell in love. I'll have the rest of the story probably some day. In a nut shell, she fell hard. But somebody caught her. And I'm thinking she pretty much really likes him. (Wisconsin is definitely too far away. )
As for me, I am just here... in the Midwest... living a full life yet without a plane ticket or sombrero or adventure ahead. Unless you call catching 4 snakes an adventure. (before you congratulate me, I will admit they were only garter snakes and I DID have leather gloves on). I finally completed a large landscaping project and hope to tackle a few other projects this next week. My own dear love has been under the weather with strep throat and feeling rather ill. So, doctoring him up has been a "project" as well but one I am glad to say is completed. Now to get that baby better...
I'm feeling rather "retro" these days and want to blend some 50's style blue into my house. We'll see if that pans out to amount to anything of value. I am brimming with other new ideas but not sure if they'll just be ideas or actual completions. My kitchen needs help badly and the red apples are beginning to glare at me and feel depressing. That house project we were working on earlier this year has kinda been pushed to the back burner until Toby has more time in the evenings and weekends. So, a fresh coat of paint should be in order for our kitchen, even if it will get changed several months from now.
My house is a walking garage sale -- I have so much stuff to get rid of. But, before I can actually have the sale, I have to sort all my stuff but before I can do that, I have to clean out a spot where I can sort stuff but before I can do that, I have to convince my husband that a garage sale would be worth the work and effort and time. If I don't convince him, I'll be the one hauling all that heavy furniture down the end of the driveway sometime this summer. And I can't really see myself being capable of that.
The yard is finally looking better. I'm sure my mom won't be able to believe that I may have some of her green thumb genes in me, even if it's not an experience I call "therapy." So, the pictures will prove that I can PLANT things but we'll see if I keep these things alive.
There will also be a little change around my blog in the next couple weeks so stay tuned for an important announcement about the change I am contemplating completing.
A wonderful friend is heading to China for an indefinite amount of time. She plans to learn Mandarin and teach English. The rest of what she's doing sounds fun and exciting. Taking in the Olympics there will be a huge event in her life. I mean, really, how many of us have ever been to the Olympics?? The sad part about this departure is the fact that we did not bid each other good bye. (Wisconsin is too far away.)
Another close friend just returned from the desert of Africa. After playing phone tag for a couple days, we finally spoke. The visit was good and the pictures were fun but having both over a cup of coffee would be better. (Wisconsin is too far away.)
Yet another dear friend is heading to the sombreros of Mexico this week. Her blond hair and bright blue eyes will shock many as she launches into a fluent Ecuadorian accented Spanish. I was able to at least partially say good bye to her since she did just visit me a couple weeks ago. (Wisconsin is still too far away.)
And last, but definitely not least, my own favorite blond sister fell in love. I'll have the rest of the story probably some day. In a nut shell, she fell hard. But somebody caught her. And I'm thinking she pretty much really likes him. (Wisconsin is definitely too far away. )
As for me, I am just here... in the Midwest... living a full life yet without a plane ticket or sombrero or adventure ahead. Unless you call catching 4 snakes an adventure. (before you congratulate me, I will admit they were only garter snakes and I DID have leather gloves on). I finally completed a large landscaping project and hope to tackle a few other projects this next week. My own dear love has been under the weather with strep throat and feeling rather ill. So, doctoring him up has been a "project" as well but one I am glad to say is completed. Now to get that baby better...
I'm feeling rather "retro" these days and want to blend some 50's style blue into my house. We'll see if that pans out to amount to anything of value. I am brimming with other new ideas but not sure if they'll just be ideas or actual completions. My kitchen needs help badly and the red apples are beginning to glare at me and feel depressing. That house project we were working on earlier this year has kinda been pushed to the back burner until Toby has more time in the evenings and weekends. So, a fresh coat of paint should be in order for our kitchen, even if it will get changed several months from now.
My house is a walking garage sale -- I have so much stuff to get rid of. But, before I can actually have the sale, I have to sort all my stuff but before I can do that, I have to clean out a spot where I can sort stuff but before I can do that, I have to convince my husband that a garage sale would be worth the work and effort and time. If I don't convince him, I'll be the one hauling all that heavy furniture down the end of the driveway sometime this summer. And I can't really see myself being capable of that.
The yard is finally looking better. I'm sure my mom won't be able to believe that I may have some of her green thumb genes in me, even if it's not an experience I call "therapy." So, the pictures will prove that I can PLANT things but we'll see if I keep these things alive.
There will also be a little change around my blog in the next couple weeks so stay tuned for an important announcement about the change I am contemplating completing.
Recycled Comments
I once lamented to [my mother-in-law] that I really did not care for gardening and felt a bit inferior. Her reply was--"you can sew clothes and I can't"...
That was my whole point: bloggers don't blog for readers to read. Readers choose to read what they say and draw conclusions on what it's reflecting and in turn often project themselves on the blog author. That happens a lot.
Janae has a way with words too. Is she your most verbal one?
Um, no.... she is highly "nonverbal" in the English language. What I've reported her saying here is usually just a quick phrase that slips out and surprises us.
Don't girls always like to talk like they know what they're talking about, even if they don't?
Shhhhhhh! Don't give our secret away!!!
"Where there is no vision the people perish:" Prov. 29:18a
some of your comments made me think of this verse.
I was thinking the same verse when I wrote that post. Glad I conveyed that message without even quoting that verse!
I'm banking on the "you can sew clothes" too.
...Remember what bloggers blog for readers to read should reflect the personality of Jesus Christ our Savior.
That was my whole point: bloggers don't blog for readers to read. Readers choose to read what they say and draw conclusions on what it's reflecting and in turn often project themselves on the blog author. That happens a lot.
Janae has a way with words too. Is she your most verbal one?
Um, no.... she is highly "nonverbal" in the English language. What I've reported her saying here is usually just a quick phrase that slips out and surprises us.
Don't girls always like to talk like they know what they're talking about, even if they don't?
Shhhhhhh! Don't give our secret away!!!
"Where there is no vision the people perish:" Prov. 29:18a
some of your comments made me think of this verse.
I was thinking the same verse when I wrote that post. Glad I conveyed that message without even quoting that verse!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Are You Making Today Count?
If you're living today like you'll be here tomorrow, STOP: there is no guarantee.
If you'd need one more minute just to tell someone you love them, quit wasting the minute you have now.
If last night was the last time you'll ever spend with your loved one, does it hold the kind of memory you'd want to be left with? Are you wishing you would've made better use of that time? Appreciated that hug enough to remember it? Relished the experience of just being in their presence? Did you tell them "I love you" before you fell asleep?
When your husband comes home tonight after a hard day's work, act like you thought last night could've been his last. You'll appreciate his smile. Notice his cute tussled hair. And melt in his arms with even the simplest kiss. It could be his last trip home tonight. Make it count. Make some memories.
When you put your kids to bed tonight, give them an extra kiss because somebody out there can't kiss their little girl at all. It wasn't planned that way. They didn't know their days were coming to an end the morning of the day she woke up that last time.
And you don't know when your child's last day is. It could be today. Make it count.
If you'd need one more minute just to tell someone you love them, quit wasting the minute you have now.
If last night was the last time you'll ever spend with your loved one, does it hold the kind of memory you'd want to be left with? Are you wishing you would've made better use of that time? Appreciated that hug enough to remember it? Relished the experience of just being in their presence? Did you tell them "I love you" before you fell asleep?
When your husband comes home tonight after a hard day's work, act like you thought last night could've been his last. You'll appreciate his smile. Notice his cute tussled hair. And melt in his arms with even the simplest kiss. It could be his last trip home tonight. Make it count. Make some memories.
When your kids got up this morning did you take notice of it enough so that if they don't wake up tomorrow, today's memory has no regrets?
When you put your kids to bed tonight, give them an extra kiss because somebody out there can't kiss their little girl at all. It wasn't planned that way. They didn't know their days were coming to an end the morning of the day she woke up that last time.
And you don't know when your child's last day is. It could be today. Make it count.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
What Do You Think?
The template here is old and outdated. I have 3 children now but by the background pictures on my blog, you would think I only had 2.
Yet I get a lot of comments about the background so I don't know if it would be worth replacing/changing/deleting/just leaving. When I blog, I don't actually see the pictures unless I go to my site directly. So, the background is more for the reader's benefit and not mine so much.
What do you think? Should it change? Yes? No? Maybe so?
Please reply with your opinion and no matter what you say, please include your email address. I want to personally respond to each idea, tip and comment.
If you would rather not publicly post your idea here, you can email me at tobyzluv "at" gmail "dot" com (I assume everyone would know how to decipher my email from that. Just trying to avoid public search engines that offer free spamming....)
I am wide open for your discussion!
Yet I get a lot of comments about the background so I don't know if it would be worth replacing/changing/deleting/just leaving. When I blog, I don't actually see the pictures unless I go to my site directly. So, the background is more for the reader's benefit and not mine so much.
What do you think? Should it change? Yes? No? Maybe so?
Please reply with your opinion and no matter what you say, please include your email address. I want to personally respond to each idea, tip and comment.
If you would rather not publicly post your idea here, you can email me at tobyzluv "at" gmail "dot" com (I assume everyone would know how to decipher my email from that. Just trying to avoid public search engines that offer free spamming....)
I am wide open for your discussion!
Being Real About Blogging
A popular subject among bloggers is the whole "privacy setting" discussion. Should I or shouldn't I go private, seems to be a big thing with some bloggers. And I can see why.
I love the new friends I have made through my blog and through other blogs the past few years. I would not find it as pleasant to blog if my blog was an "invited reader's only" blog. The camaraderie among bloggers is a fun friendship to enjoy. But, I can see why some people only blog for "invited readers only". When I hear about bloggers with the privacy setting enabled, they all have a reoccurring theme that made them choose to go private: readers that either stalked, made nasty comments or interrogated them in some way or another.
I got to thinking about it in context of my own blogging.
A blogger writes what they feel; not always what you want to hear.
A blogger writes on their blog; not yours.
A blogger writes personal things and can be brutally honest; you are the one reading it.
A blogger writes based on their own conscience; not yours.
A blogger writes freely, you read it freely -- a blogger doesn't force you to read their blog.
A blogger writes what they believe without asking for your permission.
A blogger writes on their own blog BUT the website is opening in your home; if you don't like what you're reading on their blog, close the page and move on to something you do like.
A lot of readers seem to have a mentality that is inappropriately based: since my blog is coming into your home and I am willingly baring my heart for you to see it, that doesn't mean that I deserve speculation or interrogation or accusations or nasty comments just because I am vulnerable. I am not asking you to critique my work just because I make it available for you to read. And it's not that I feel a need to "trust" you with my secrets; a blog does not have secrets when it's public. I only trust you to read what I write and not come back and tell me what I should've wrote or hear how you disagree because you think you know me better and what I said is inconsistent with my life. (I say "I" and "you" in a general sense and in a way that speaks for all bloggers and readers.)
If you don't like the contents of a blog you are reading, or disagree, or have concerns with a topic or phrase, the blog author is not responsible for coming into your home and giving you a bad feeling about the blog you are reading. You made the move to enter that premises.
A blogger enjoys writing freely; if they have to think about a reader's preferences, or a reader's criticism, or a reader's inability to understand a situation, or knows a reader will strongly disagree with something the author says, that blog becomes the reader's blog; not the blogger's blog.
For safety reasons when your blog contains personal information that may pertain to you alone and/or your family, it is good to get a site meter and check it frequently. Check the referrals to see where your readers are coming from and also figure out direct hits (through IP addresses) from consistent readers: you want to know you are blogging among friends, even if the friends are people you have never met in person.
If some readers are on your blog more than you are, that's a good time to make a reference of the pages they load and the posts they're reading. That is usually a positive thing to have an interested reader but it can also be negative depending on the situation. You can see what is piquing their curiosity and what topics they seem attracted to; thus making their reading experience more inviting to them. But, there could be other reasons... are they checking for consistency in your life and/or getting information for ulterior motives and/or are they just getting to know you better?
I know I've posted this before but it's worth the read again. My friend Hannah says this:
I want my blog to be a place where I write what I’m passionate about -thoughts & people alike. What makes me laugh or cry, what grabs my soul and makes me think. A place where I share from real life, not just another collection of well-meaning spiritual rhetoric and lofty quotes of inspiration. Sometimes that can be hard to do. But I’m convinced that God’s touch is found in everything from answered prayers to eating ice cream, and much like a singer singing a song they don’t really care about, if it doesn’t mean anything to me, I certainly can’t help it mean much to anyone else.
I couldn't agree more.
I love the new friends I have made through my blog and through other blogs the past few years. I would not find it as pleasant to blog if my blog was an "invited reader's only" blog. The camaraderie among bloggers is a fun friendship to enjoy. But, I can see why some people only blog for "invited readers only". When I hear about bloggers with the privacy setting enabled, they all have a reoccurring theme that made them choose to go private: readers that either stalked, made nasty comments or interrogated them in some way or another.
I got to thinking about it in context of my own blogging.
A blogger writes what they feel; not always what you want to hear.
A blogger writes on their blog; not yours.
A blogger writes personal things and can be brutally honest; you are the one reading it.
A blogger writes based on their own conscience; not yours.
A blogger writes freely, you read it freely -- a blogger doesn't force you to read their blog.
A blogger writes what they believe without asking for your permission.
A blogger writes on their own blog BUT the website is opening in your home; if you don't like what you're reading on their blog, close the page and move on to something you do like.
A lot of readers seem to have a mentality that is inappropriately based: since my blog is coming into your home and I am willingly baring my heart for you to see it, that doesn't mean that I deserve speculation or interrogation or accusations or nasty comments just because I am vulnerable. I am not asking you to critique my work just because I make it available for you to read. And it's not that I feel a need to "trust" you with my secrets; a blog does not have secrets when it's public. I only trust you to read what I write and not come back and tell me what I should've wrote or hear how you disagree because you think you know me better and what I said is inconsistent with my life. (I say "I" and "you" in a general sense and in a way that speaks for all bloggers and readers.)
If you don't like the contents of a blog you are reading, or disagree, or have concerns with a topic or phrase, the blog author is not responsible for coming into your home and giving you a bad feeling about the blog you are reading. You made the move to enter that premises.
A blogger enjoys writing freely; if they have to think about a reader's preferences, or a reader's criticism, or a reader's inability to understand a situation, or knows a reader will strongly disagree with something the author says, that blog becomes the reader's blog; not the blogger's blog.
For safety reasons when your blog contains personal information that may pertain to you alone and/or your family, it is good to get a site meter and check it frequently. Check the referrals to see where your readers are coming from and also figure out direct hits (through IP addresses) from consistent readers: you want to know you are blogging among friends, even if the friends are people you have never met in person.
If some readers are on your blog more than you are, that's a good time to make a reference of the pages they load and the posts they're reading. That is usually a positive thing to have an interested reader but it can also be negative depending on the situation. You can see what is piquing their curiosity and what topics they seem attracted to; thus making their reading experience more inviting to them. But, there could be other reasons... are they checking for consistency in your life and/or getting information for ulterior motives and/or are they just getting to know you better?
I know I've posted this before but it's worth the read again. My friend Hannah says this:
I want my blog to be a place where I write what I’m passionate about -thoughts & people alike. What makes me laugh or cry, what grabs my soul and makes me think. A place where I share from real life, not just another collection of well-meaning spiritual rhetoric and lofty quotes of inspiration. Sometimes that can be hard to do. But I’m convinced that God’s touch is found in everything from answered prayers to eating ice cream, and much like a singer singing a song they don’t really care about, if it doesn’t mean anything to me, I certainly can’t help it mean much to anyone else.
I couldn't agree more.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Some Kind Of "Therapy"
It was one of those days where the kids decided early on in the day that when one had a heart ache, they'd all shed a tear. They all seemed very devoted to the mutual commitment they made to bear in each other's burdens.
Alex had a high fever and diarrhea. He cried a lot and quiet often and it seemed pretty frequently too. Now that I think of it, he hardly quit crying all day.
Janae was having girl issues. Serious ones. She left for 2 minutes this morning and disappeared completely. It left me believing that she had been raptured. I almost ran down to the Baptist Church to see if anyone was there. But, then I realized that I was still here so obviously, the rapture didn't take place. Rapture or not, she was gone none the less. It was quiet while she was gone, except for Alex crying, which quiet is always nice around here. Rare too. I should've taken advantage of it and gotten something done -- especially since that 2 minutes felt longer than just 2 minutes. Actually, now that I think of it, I think it was more like 20 minutes... or was it 2 hours???
I spent all the time she was gone searching the entire house, front yard, back yard, bathroom, her favorite hiding place in the house and even up and down the street and back in the ally. I was about ready to notify Amber Alert when she climbed out of the van (I had already looked in) with a big smile.
Landon had also thoughtfully committed to tears today and if he wasn't causing tears for others, he was making them himself. Which is actually rare since he is not a cry-baby type, unlike the other kids that live with us. But today was "National Cry Day" at our house so I can understand the exception he made to participate.
After telling the kids that they were both going to take a nap if I heard anymore crying, I heard crying. Wow. Can you believe that? I heard more crying.
Landon denied that he was crying and I could see plainly and clearly that he was not crying. Which is always good and commendable and what we like to see in a child that lives with us. But between Janae's deafening wails, I learned that Landon had spit on her foot. My, my. How tragic. He may as well have just hacked her foot off with a machete, going by the decibels her cries were reaching.
He hadn't actually spit though; it was built up saliva that congregated in his mouth and then slowly oozed out and carefully landed on his sister's foot who was swinging on the swing that he pretty much wanted. Yeah, a great passive-aggressive way of dealing with conflict and ruling the case in your favor. You should try it sometime yourself; you may get a nap out of the deal like he did.
Meanwhile, the house reeked of poop, the kids were harmonizing in an unifying chorus of sobs and wails and melodiously filling our home with it's sound. The baby was weeping uncontrollably and would not be comforted because he was not being comforted. Basically, there was a lot of crying. And tears. Loud tears.
No body wanted naps under these conditions -- they never like to go to bed sad. Or going to bed at all. Yet the continued crying only proved how necessary the naps were. I called Toby just then to let him know that I was leaving for the night when he got home. Alone. You know: by myself. With no kids. Just so I didn't have to hear crying. He said, "Okay, Honey, have a good time. Are you sure you don't want to take the baby?"
By the time it got quiet and everyone had quit crying and succumbed to sleep, I was motivated to get some work done. So, bypassing the tripped-on-laundry, and sink full of dishes ,and dishwasher full of dishes, and littered house, and groceries on the floor, and supper still needing to be figured out, I headed downstairs and swept out under the basement steps. I know... real vital to getting my work done but hey, you try living in a house with screaming and crying and sick kids and don't tell me that you can still think clear when they're all finally quiet.
I got some visiting done on the phone with a good friend that just got back from Africa. We shared details about our exciting lives. When Janae woke up and heard who I was talking to, she immediately informed me that she wanted to "Gawka Bicky." (talk to Becky) She told 'Bicki' that she had new shoes that were green (brown) and that she wanted to have "Gawkee" (coffee) with 'Bicki' again. After she handed the phone to me, she said she "wanna dit on "Bicki's wap a-den." Our last trip home to Wisconsin found Becky making a pretty big impression on Janae. And Janae hasn't forgotten that at all.
Janae's little chat on the phone was a good distraction from the mournful morning and seemed to set the mood right for the rest of the day. (I'll just have to make sure she calls someone tomorrow.)
The evening was spent almost as exciting with a few added pieces of flair since Daddy was home. It's always fun when he's around. "Smoovies" (smoothies) on the front porch for everyone were waiting when he walked up the driveway. And nothing is better than a porch swing full of happy, smoovie sippers while the sun sets.
As if to get back to the mode of antics originally saught after for the day, Landon made one more attempt at chaos and tried (and succeeded) hooking up the sprinkler and turned the hose on long enough to create enough mud to require a good scrub down on his sister. When I told him to shut the water off and leave the sprinkler alone and always ask before he tries that again, he told me, "The sun is up in the sky; right over there," and he turned in circles trying to find the fading sun and finally pointed to the far west where it was almost completely set. Apparently when you're 4, that is a good time to run a sprinkler with your sister in the back yard. If you do it fast enough, there will be more mud and weeds that grow from the sprinkling water and you can enjoy getting a little wet yourself while the water runs freely.
After the kids went to bed, I took Alex outside with me to quick plant a few ivy plants. Nothing serious at all; just a little wrap-up-and-un-wind project. And it was going to be quick.
Now, I have heard people say that gardening and yard work is therapy for them. And I admire these people. When I do anything with plants, it seems like I need the therapy after I'm done. What therapy is there in getting your hands dirty and your feet muddy and your toenails packed with dirt? The only therapy I see in it is that it gives you another reason to just get the pedicure over with. I just don't get it. You horticulture people will probably comment and tell me some piece of wisdom pertaining to gardening but I can assure you: I do not relate to your culture of horti's.
I made one last effort to see what therapy is found in gardening and decided that after a stressful day, I should just try this theory on myself and see if it is true. After all, maybe I just haven't had enough stress in my life until today. And what would it hurt? My plants needed new pots anyway.
But, it's true: there is nothing relaxing about it. Nothing at all.
Especially when you are only out there a short time and you're almost ready to water your three freshly planted plants and you look over at your fussing baby who you just looked at a second ago and you happen to notice that there is yellow stuff smeared across his stroller tray and dotted on his face and hands and it's in his mouth and you look closer feeling slightly appalled and you find that he is sitting in that stuff.
Yup. I don't even have to give you the scientific name of that stuff. We all know it happens.
It dripped and smelled the whole way to the bathroom where I plopped him in the tub, clothes, diaper and all. He was pretty giddy about a bath but I hope that next time he wants a bath, he'll just ask.
And the next time I want therapy, maybe I'll just sweep out under some steps.
Alex had a high fever and diarrhea. He cried a lot and quiet often and it seemed pretty frequently too. Now that I think of it, he hardly quit crying all day.
Janae was having girl issues. Serious ones. She left for 2 minutes this morning and disappeared completely. It left me believing that she had been raptured. I almost ran down to the Baptist Church to see if anyone was there. But, then I realized that I was still here so obviously, the rapture didn't take place. Rapture or not, she was gone none the less. It was quiet while she was gone, except for Alex crying, which quiet is always nice around here. Rare too. I should've taken advantage of it and gotten something done -- especially since that 2 minutes felt longer than just 2 minutes. Actually, now that I think of it, I think it was more like 20 minutes... or was it 2 hours???
I spent all the time she was gone searching the entire house, front yard, back yard, bathroom, her favorite hiding place in the house and even up and down the street and back in the ally. I was about ready to notify Amber Alert when she climbed out of the van (I had already looked in) with a big smile.
Landon had also thoughtfully committed to tears today and if he wasn't causing tears for others, he was making them himself. Which is actually rare since he is not a cry-baby type, unlike the other kids that live with us. But today was "National Cry Day" at our house so I can understand the exception he made to participate.
After telling the kids that they were both going to take a nap if I heard anymore crying, I heard crying. Wow. Can you believe that? I heard more crying.
Landon denied that he was crying and I could see plainly and clearly that he was not crying. Which is always good and commendable and what we like to see in a child that lives with us. But between Janae's deafening wails, I learned that Landon had spit on her foot. My, my. How tragic. He may as well have just hacked her foot off with a machete, going by the decibels her cries were reaching.
He hadn't actually spit though; it was built up saliva that congregated in his mouth and then slowly oozed out and carefully landed on his sister's foot who was swinging on the swing that he pretty much wanted. Yeah, a great passive-aggressive way of dealing with conflict and ruling the case in your favor. You should try it sometime yourself; you may get a nap out of the deal like he did.
Meanwhile, the house reeked of poop, the kids were harmonizing in an unifying chorus of sobs and wails and melodiously filling our home with it's sound. The baby was weeping uncontrollably and would not be comforted because he was not being comforted. Basically, there was a lot of crying. And tears. Loud tears.
No body wanted naps under these conditions -- they never like to go to bed sad. Or going to bed at all. Yet the continued crying only proved how necessary the naps were. I called Toby just then to let him know that I was leaving for the night when he got home. Alone. You know: by myself. With no kids. Just so I didn't have to hear crying. He said, "Okay, Honey, have a good time. Are you sure you don't want to take the baby?"
By the time it got quiet and everyone had quit crying and succumbed to sleep, I was motivated to get some work done. So, bypassing the tripped-on-laundry, and sink full of dishes ,and dishwasher full of dishes, and littered house, and groceries on the floor, and supper still needing to be figured out, I headed downstairs and swept out under the basement steps. I know... real vital to getting my work done but hey, you try living in a house with screaming and crying and sick kids and don't tell me that you can still think clear when they're all finally quiet.
I got some visiting done on the phone with a good friend that just got back from Africa. We shared details about our exciting lives. When Janae woke up and heard who I was talking to, she immediately informed me that she wanted to "Gawka Bicky." (talk to Becky) She told 'Bicki' that she had new shoes that were green (brown) and that she wanted to have "Gawkee" (coffee) with 'Bicki' again. After she handed the phone to me, she said she "wanna dit on "Bicki's wap a-den." Our last trip home to Wisconsin found Becky making a pretty big impression on Janae. And Janae hasn't forgotten that at all.
Janae's little chat on the phone was a good distraction from the mournful morning and seemed to set the mood right for the rest of the day. (I'll just have to make sure she calls someone tomorrow.)
The evening was spent almost as exciting with a few added pieces of flair since Daddy was home. It's always fun when he's around. "Smoovies" (smoothies) on the front porch for everyone were waiting when he walked up the driveway. And nothing is better than a porch swing full of happy, smoovie sippers while the sun sets.
As if to get back to the mode of antics originally saught after for the day, Landon made one more attempt at chaos and tried (and succeeded) hooking up the sprinkler and turned the hose on long enough to create enough mud to require a good scrub down on his sister. When I told him to shut the water off and leave the sprinkler alone and always ask before he tries that again, he told me, "The sun is up in the sky; right over there," and he turned in circles trying to find the fading sun and finally pointed to the far west where it was almost completely set. Apparently when you're 4, that is a good time to run a sprinkler with your sister in the back yard. If you do it fast enough, there will be more mud and weeds that grow from the sprinkling water and you can enjoy getting a little wet yourself while the water runs freely.
After the kids went to bed, I took Alex outside with me to quick plant a few ivy plants. Nothing serious at all; just a little wrap-up-and-un-wind project. And it was going to be quick.
Now, I have heard people say that gardening and yard work is therapy for them. And I admire these people. When I do anything with plants, it seems like I need the therapy after I'm done. What therapy is there in getting your hands dirty and your feet muddy and your toenails packed with dirt? The only therapy I see in it is that it gives you another reason to just get the pedicure over with. I just don't get it. You horticulture people will probably comment and tell me some piece of wisdom pertaining to gardening but I can assure you: I do not relate to your culture of horti's.
I made one last effort to see what therapy is found in gardening and decided that after a stressful day, I should just try this theory on myself and see if it is true. After all, maybe I just haven't had enough stress in my life until today. And what would it hurt? My plants needed new pots anyway.
But, it's true: there is nothing relaxing about it. Nothing at all.
Especially when you are only out there a short time and you're almost ready to water your three freshly planted plants and you look over at your fussing baby who you just looked at a second ago and you happen to notice that there is yellow stuff smeared across his stroller tray and dotted on his face and hands and it's in his mouth and you look closer feeling slightly appalled and you find that he is sitting in that stuff.
Yup. I don't even have to give you the scientific name of that stuff. We all know it happens.
It dripped and smelled the whole way to the bathroom where I plopped him in the tub, clothes, diaper and all. He was pretty giddy about a bath but I hope that next time he wants a bath, he'll just ask.
And the next time I want therapy, maybe I'll just sweep out under some steps.
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