Readers Unite

The other day I had over 1,000 page views on my blog. Either somebody really likes me or somebody really hates me and is trying to find everything they can about me on my blog. Or, there were several new visitors to my blog that day. No matter what the case was, I got some interesting comments.

Some of you gave constructive criticism. Others had nothing nice to say. And some just plain did not understand my blog. Then there were some that were compliments. But of course, the rest of you just silently read and went on to whatever you were going to do next.

By breaking up my readers into 5 categories, I have a customized message for each one of you. Please read and be informed....

The Constructive Critics: I love you guys! You are what my blog needs and what I appreciate. Criticism usually hurts but when done constructively, it is vital to the survival of communication and especially blogging. I don't want to sound like a broken record (you can tell me to change the topic if I keep talking about DST or some other much-noted-upon topic) or if I let my mispelings go un-noticed (be my spell-check when blogger's spell-checker refuses to work -- which is more often than not) or when I fail to appreciate proper grammar (there ain't no way I'm gonna let my proper grammer just because we was careless). But, I don't understand the anonymity you often hide behind. If it makes you feel better, fine, select "anonymous" when you comment but really, I don't mind seeing your face once in awhile. I promise I won't bite!

Unfriendly Commenter's: Let me just tell you a little tip on etiquette my mother once taught me... "If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all." That has been a piece of advice that I have used over and over. And am using right now actually.

Unintentionally Uninformed Commenter's: (Shared both in blogger's comments and sometimes in person) You are the people that visit once and take everything I write seriously and then comment that I made no sense at all and that you think I need to re-think my thoughts on certain matters. You are the people that lack a sense of humor. So, because of you dear folks, I have been inspired. I am invoking change on my blog: the birth of a new disclaimer. Hopefully that will set you at ease and help you know that really, I am not seeking marriage counseling because of my husband's radio.

Friendly Commenter's: You guys are great and keep me informed as to who exactly my audience is. Thanks for all the contributions to the Q and A posts.

Silent Readers: You guys are great too. You keep my stat counter ticking and shocking me unexpectedly when it shoots up toward 1,000 in one day. Thanks for your contributions to my stat counter.

If you are a rare person and find yourself in none of the above categories, send me an email or comment here so I can better understand your breed of blog readers and can hopefully compose a customized message for you as well.

Absent From The Body...

but, present with the Lord.

A good friend and faithful reader is grieving the loss of her husband tonight. After a long and courageous battle with diabetes and other health complications, her husband moved on to his reward in heaven this morning.

There are other close family members (some are here and here) who also traffic my blog and comment and I just want to say to you loved ones as well that we are thinking of you and praying for you and are thankful for the hope that heaven has for us as believers in Jesus.

Goodbyes are hard and we send our condolences. May God be with the John Van Essen family.

Recycled and Rehashed Rudiments Recomposed

You should get a cat like mine! ;-) Male, neutered, no roaming, no heat...perfect! :-)
That's a good idea. I'll take him.

I've always felt rather guilty for not liking dogs and cats--I mean it's about as mean and uncaring as you can get not to like a fluffy cat or something :)
I'd actually take a bug (up to a certain size) over a dog. Bizarre, I know.
Bizarre as that is, I can almost agree with you (but I still detest bugs). Don't feel guilty. I too hate cats.

Okay if it is okay for you to not like bugs then I can still hate frogs!!! I am so sure you know what my great sister did to me at Christmas. It is funny now but not at the moment. If you don't know just ask her I'm sure she would love to tell you.
I support your right to hate frogs. But, I also support my right to not hate frogs and your sister's right to do what she did on that fateful Christmas day. I loved that story. :)

This turned out to be a "bugable" blog. You may need to invest in some bug houses. We ARE getting into the buggier time of the year.
I agree with the first and last point you made in your comment but I strongly disagree with investing in bug houses. For one, that would not be an investment. For two, I would not invite a bug to live anywhere (he can find his own house). And for three, I do not want to own a house a bug is welcomed to live in. But, I do understand what you mean.

Notice your comment from Celular. It seems to come from Brazil.
I have an idea it's actually an automated advertising system that's apt to appear on your blog if your blog's Word Verification is not enabled. In one night alone about a year ago, I received over 230 such comments.

The opposite of "far-sighted" is "near-sighted", not "short-sighted". Although I was very flattered that you considered me intelligent enough to diagnose your eye condition from afar, without actually seeing you, I thought I'd better correct your misconception.
Thank you for enlightening me. I "see" your point now. Are you also saying that if you saw me, you'd be able to tell me whether or not I need glasses? If that's the case, I'm sure you're cheaper than an Opthamologist. I'll be right over.

As far as a time for "Everything under the sun," I think it still proves my point that DST wasn't invented by the time of the "publishing" of Ecclesiastes, as it wasn't listed, but I suppose there is a "time" to change the time. (or at least now there is)
The Preacher in Ecclesiastes was not referring to things that may happen under the sun somewhere in the near future unless you line that up with the verse that talks about "Evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse..." That's how we got DST. Somewhere in the future, they'll be making us change our clocks several times in one day... if we don't stop the waxing evil of the seducers.

What time did the alarm go off?
It was right around the time I wrote that blog -- around 7:30 - 8 in the morning. Since the happening of DST, most of my children are still enjoying sleep at that hour. (or is it me enjoying them sleeping???)

Pagers sound good. The expense of that would probably have to be taken out of some of your local taxes. Since it is done by volunteers, there would be a longer list of people who would volunteer than would be needed at any given fire. It would be costly.
Those are all very valid reasons and I'm sure probably applicable in our small town. Interestingly enough, the sirens went off the other day and no body responded: I inadvertently and unintentionally had a colleague staked out near the fire station just before the siren went off. They reported that no one single person responded to the call. Just think of all the small children that were awakened needlessly by the pointless alarm. It's a shame -- in more ways than one. (I hope the person that dialed 911 didn't really need help...)

One thing I learned: You can tell if there is a storm coming by watching the behavior of the kids. They get very restless and don't pay attention as well.
And then when they finally settle down and go to sleep, the siren goes off. I know that story well.

Fear of Frogs Song

Just for Kim; my frog-hating friend who I am actually related to through my network of extended relatives. This song is for you.

Google Goes Amish

I came to my home page today (and for those of you that don't know, that would be google.com) and what should I find but the background of the screen was black (and for those of you that don't know, Google's normal color is white) but the words were all normal. Thinking it was my perpetually problematic computer, I chalked it up to Toshiba's ever failing computer system.

Until I read this...

"We've turned the lights out. Now it's your turn -- Earth Hour."

What is this? Some mad environmentalist that wants to do something about "saving the earth" so he invokes his new scheme on the rest of the world? I'm kinda thinking this guy is friends with the DST dude.

Okay, I can handle my google.com page being black, although a black computer screen is simply one of the most annoying experiences one can have when surfing the web. I. do. not. like. black. sites. They are cheesy and classless and hard to read and hurt your eyes. But, I can handle them. If your blog is black, please know I am not directing this statement at you -- it's a free country and I support your right to have a blog that is black.

So, like I said, I can handle google.com being black. (This is starting to sound like a racial post now but I'm not a racists, really, I'm not. I'm actually related to some black people.)

As I was saying, I read the Google Earth Hour site so that I would more fully understand the reason behind my annoying black screen. I read it more for kicks than anything else though. This had to be some bored, hilarious college kid that hacked into google's system and goofed up the template colors. Unfortunately, it was no joke. The Google Professionals (which would actually be graduated college kids) intentionally made their screen black (this was no hacker's work) but the reason they did it seemed even more senseless than a college kid's joke (pardon the slam on you college kids; I'm not slamming you, really, I'm not. I'm actually related to one of you)...

"On Saturday, March 29, 2008, Earth Hour invites people around the world to turn off their lights for one hour – from 8:00pm to 9:00pm in their local time zone. On this day, cities around the world, including Copenhagen, Chicago, Melbourne, Dubai, and Tel Aviv, will hold events to acknowledge their commitment to energy conservation."

What a great idea. Just think of the mass confusion this will cause around the world. At the same time. This is borderline Apocalypse if you ask me. Perhaps we are manually setting ourselves in the end time this very night.

--Scores of people will light open flames in their homes in order to see in the dark without using electricity. (I'm sure we'll hear a siren tonight.)

--Scads of families will leave their table top games and sit in the dark around the TV instead filling their minds with meaningless, mindless, memories.

--Moms will order carryout if they haven't made supper yet.

--Dads will resort to computers instead of reading books to their children.

--Millions will drive in the dark without headlights. (Resulting in more sirens.)

--Emergency rooms will be flooded with people suffering from STD (stubbed toe disease), Osteomyelitis, Subungual Hematoma, disorientation and overall confusion. Plus, the perilous certainty all the headlight-less vehicles will cause.

This does not sound like a good way to save the earth if you ask me.

So folks, shut your lights off just after the sun has set, grope helplessly in the dark through your blackened homes, and embrace this universal celebration called "Earth Hour."

Basically, go Amish on us. But, don't hurt yourself.

The 9,731st Thing I've Learned The Hard Way

Never get a cat. Period. Just don't. No matter how cute they look, seem, feel, act or how many mice you have or think you have, just don't get a cat. Get a stuffed animal to cuddle for you and buy a trap for the mice.

My experience has been this:

Picture a cute, cuddly, friendly, well mannered cat. A nice picture, right? Indeed she was.

Now, picture this cute cat a few months later. Got it?

Picture her walking through your basement.

Just slowly walking, normally, nothing real exciting about her gait, walking from one end to the other.

Are you picturing it?

Now, mix in some sound to your picture. Mix in the sound of a howling/pathetic/painful/cry/wail/loud blend. Got it?

Listen to the sound for week after week after week after week. Yeah, that's right. For that long. Listen to it until you have visions of manually strangling the sweet creature simply because you have become delirious.

You probably will comment now and say, "Oh, your cat is in heat." If she's in heat, honey, she is perpetually fertile.

That's our cat for you. Such a sweet thing.

Random Realities

It is interesting as a blogger to find out how some of my readers stumble on my site. I checked the referring sites that directed readers to my blog. Google (as well as other search engines) had a selection of referrals I thought was almost too much to believe. This is how people found my blog (though accidentally) through various search engines: (in bold)

What to expect after 5 years of marriage
3 kids, your 4th house, a dog, cat, guinea pig and finally a full set of China. Oh, and you haven't seen nothin' yet when it comes to love until you've been married 5 years.

The origin of daylight savings time
I'm sorry I mislead you. I really didn't know what I was talking about when I wrote that post.

Reasons to love mother-in-law
I can give several reasons why I love mine.

The origin of dst
Sounds to me like a lot of other people besides myself were thinking about this too.

Why does banana black when leave in the open?
When you figure that one out, come back and tell us how they turn into giant oozing slugs in the fridge, will ya?

Things but can do for our anniversary
Does you search engine except typos?

Chipped tooth in a child
I know. Isn't that awful? It'll wreck all her pictures until that tooth falls out. Just deal with it. Glue doesn't fix this either.

How do I leave a man after 11 yrs, marriage and 5 children?
Yeah, how could you?

Flubber assessments
Check amounts at hips and assess how much more is there now then there was 10 years ago. Write full assessment in journal and then have a coffee break. And whatever you do, don't declare out loud that your hips feel just like flubber.

What to do for my husband for our anniversary
This old song says it best... "Show him that you care... just for him,
Do the things that he likes to do,
Wear your hair... just for him...
Then hold him, and kiss him, and squeeze him, and love him, just do it and after you do, you will be his."

Bugs And Why Not To Avoid Them

There is a pressing subject I am forced into discussing here. I have had 3 Things happen that confirm I must discuss this, or else. I am not really enthusiastic about waiting for another situation to arise to further confirm the necessity of this discussion, so I will just do it now before Thing Number Four takes place.

Okay, I hate bugs. There, now you know.

What does that have to do with this post? Everything.

Let me explain....

Thing Number One:

I was cleaning up Toby's newspaper one day (a daily chore I enjoy doing whether I want to or not) and was casually leafing through the pages. I stumbled upon (what I was sure was probably) an interesting article but then quickly slammed the next page on top of it, as if closing the door of possibilities for the contents on that page to spill out on my dining room table. You see, the page had a HUGE microscopically magnified bug head and it covered almost half the page. (I hate bugs.) It had hairy particles, defecating substance like shards and was looking right off the page with it's huge, beady bug eyes. (I really hate bugs.)

Now, I'm sure the article was all about bugs and how to avoid them and how they live with us and how we can't get ride of them and how millions of tiny bugs probably inhabit the very keyboard I am typing on and how counter tops in my kitchen are really not very clean because of these hidden bugs that stay behind even when a wash rag wipes across the counter and how being sick is confirmation that a bug is in your house and that kids are very susceptible to bugs because of their germy attraction in life, etc. I didn't want to be reminded of the inevitable. So, I threw the paper out, thankful that the giant bug was going with it.

Thing Number Two:

I thought that was the end of it. Until a kind reader sent me a clipping from the paper and sweetly mailed it to me. I was looking at that bug again. The dear reader just thought a few details about bugs would be a fun thing to blog about. (I must admit it is.)

Okay, I like my blog, I HATE bugs. So, why would I destroy something I like with something I hate? Folks, I have learned that sometimes life is like that. It's reality.

Thing Number Three:

You guessed it: my kid.

So, there you have it. When life throws you bugs, write a blog. When bugs get you down, fight back with a blog. And if you really want to learn some interesting facts about bugs (and even if you really don't want to know), read the inevitable truth. Or else.

“Bugs are an inevitable fact of life. Try to find a deeper understanding. We need them more than they need us, in a weird way..."

(Thanks to PVE for the blog inspiration! And Bug Off? Please don't!)

The Defecation Dilemma

I learned something new today. I learned what it means to go From Bad To Worse. I've learned it before on different levels but never on this one. It is a lot more complicated than you think but seriously, when it happens to you, you'll know.

It had been a long day. I was sicker than a dog with the flu and with a cold and with a head ache but all my kids were fine, dandy, chipper and energetic. Okay, I need to emphasis right now that I love it when my kids are healthy--I really do-- but I do NOT appreciate the days when their energy levels are more superb than mine. And today was such a day.

Everything was actually going pretty well, I must admit. Landon had gone with Toby to work (a somewhat rarity since he's not legally big enough to be on a roof)... lunch was finished... Alex was nursing (a somewhat rarity since he is weaning himself)... I had just built a sweet little Lincoln Log homestead for Janae to play with (a somewhat rarity since I don't usually play with toys very often anymore)... Janae was happy, content and entertaining herself (a somewhat rarity since she is, well, 2)... I was peacefully browsing Facebook having just stumbled upon a photo album of a friend from my childhood... when IT happened: my nose started dripping. (remember the part about a cold?)

No Kleenex was in reach. I wasn't about to use my sleeve, or the baby's sleeve. And just across the room a sterilized, clean, white box of Kleenex sat waiting for me to reach out and grab it. But, like I said, it was across the room.

I have a very able bodied 2-year-old (remember the part about energy levels?) so I requested her to fetch me a Kleenex. I put it in 2-year-old language and she fully comprehended her mission. BUT, she dawdled. And my nose drip started getting tickly. And that box of Kleenex was so tantalizing. And she continued to meander slowly towards the object of my desire.

While emphasising "Hurry." "Run." "Go faster." "You need to do it FAST." "When I say hurry, run." "I neeeeed that Kleenex now." "You do not go slow." etc., she continued her meandering journey across the room with my much coveted upon Kleenex.

Just as she was about to hand it to me (remember the part about my nose dripping?) she calmly began to wipe a mysterious substance on my Kleenex and then IT happened. (remember the part about going from bad to worse?)

The Worse happened. Things were no longer bad anymore. They were dramatically, drastically, disgustingly, defacatingly worse.

You guessed it: it was poop. All over my precious Kleenex.

No wonder I'm sicker than a dog.

(For the record, this child of mine has very little attraction towards defecating dilemmas, thankfully. But, her brother has a whole different record, unfortunately.)

I. Don't. Get. It.

It's early in the morning. The whole house is sleeping (except for me and the dad who already left for work.) The dog isn't barking. The cat is quiet. All is peaceful.

And then it starts: the town siren. Alerting all available EMT's, Paramedics and everyone else who is within ear shot that there is an emergency. It sounds like a Pearl Harbor reenactment. Or like a tornado touched down in the town square. Or like bombs are coming. It's an eery and uncomfortable sound. And loud.

I understand pain and I have compassion for people who are in need of help. But seriously. ME listening to the siren is doing that poor soul no good -- I can't jump in my car and screech away in an effort to get to their side immediately.

And neither can my kids. Even with noise makers (a device that makes white noise which is a necessary sound barrier when you live in a small house with more people than bedrooms) inches from their heads, some of the kids still stir restlessly/wake up. That siren is loud.

The dog starts in on it too the second the siren starts to go off. Howling like a wolf howls to the moon, she's out there making as much racket as the siren.

I don't get it why they can't upgrade to pagers or some other polite form of communication. I mean, it is the twenty-first-century. Surely there are alarm systems that would be less intrusive by now.

Because, it never fails that when my children are sleeping, that siren goes off.

(Maybe that's why it goes off...?)

Hmmm, that could be. Coincidence can't happen that often, can it?

Questions and Comments Recycled

Is the pain Jean's younger sister (PVE) or the unchanged clocks?
It is entirely the unchanged clocks! Shame on you for considering otherwise!

I'm talking (so is Oswald Chambers) about the human mistakes we make, or wrong decisions, or even the good ones. Just because it always has happened that way, doesn't mean it always will. We have to trust God, pick up our feet and go to!
I see the intent of your encouraging quote and the sweet spirit in which you share it. I also remember in one of your other comments that you mentioned you are unmarried. The best advice I can give you for when you marry is to remember that, "What the good man does is always right!"

Your sister has a Canon EOS 5D 12.8 MegaPixel, Digital SLR with an EF 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM Telephoto Zoom Lens.... She wishes.
Reality is her camera is only a PowerShot A720 IS 6x optical zoom, 8.0 MegaPixels, purchased off of Amazon.
Thank you for your honesty. We hope you will find your heart's desire someday so you can quit coveting.

Oh yes, and about the Bible versions... :D can you guess? I'm so strongly KJV only that it would knock your socks off if you only knew... :D ;)
That was my first and only guess. :)

ahh Court, you are so short sighted.
Actually, the Opthamologist says I'm far sighted but since it's been a few (read like, 10) years since I was last tested, I should maybe go in for another exam. Especially after your abrupt diagnosis.

So why not rebel, and never change your clocks?
Because I like talking about a problem that I didn't create and pretend that I know how to fix it when I really don't. Like a politician does.

Or move to Arizona; they use common sense, like yours, and don't adjust their clocks.
I now see why a lot of elderly people move down there -- it's not the climate or the weather: it's the absence of DST! They wait until they're advanced in life to the point that they feel they must get everything in their life straightened out before it's too late. Including their time.

Haven't you ever considered all the people who get work just because of DST changing? My brother's company worked for 3 months fixing all the issues DST created for its clients. That was work for 70+ people for 3 months!
Thanks for helping me make my point: look at the money it cost the company. Knowing your brother, he could've easily made money doing something far more profitable anyway.

As a side note, evidently this DST came along after Ecclesiastes was written. I don't see changing your clocks anywhere in his list of things for which there is a time.
And that was quite a long list.

Ecclesiastes does say there is A Time for EVERYTHING under the sun.
But creating things that shouldn't be happening under the sun is not good. (read the account of creation in Genesis. The only thing close to DST that God created was the fact the He gave man freewill.)

I would occasionally take an elderly sister to visit another one who was a shut-in. The shut-in refused to change her clocks "from God's time". I think she actually thought that CST was "God's time".
We need more people like her today.

Are all your clocks in agreement now?
One word: not yet.

The Origin of Daylight Savings Time

In the Daylight Savings Time therapy program I am in, we learned the following details about DST.

Whoever invented Daylight Savings Time was obviously not a mom.

They always went to be early and got 8-10 hours of sleep.

They had a consistent schedule that could easily fall back or spring ahead twice a year.

They were never at a loss for sleep.

They had extra minutes in their day.

They needed a remedy to help them remember to change their smoke alarm batteries.

They liked change and sought after it.

They probably weren't married or had much of a social life.

They lead boring lives.

And (waxing political here), they were probably The Party I wouldn't endorse if I was into politics.

They had poor money managing skills because they used the reason that Daylight "Savings" Time would use less electricity which in turn would use less money which in turn would save money. Come to find out, it has cost 8 million dollars in some state for some length of time all because of DST. (I can't remember the state or how that figure was added up and to what time frame it is slotted between but still, 8 million dollars is not "extra cash" just laying around -- even if you are rich.)

As if this wasn't all bad enough, they projected their Idea on this fair land of ours and took away one right of freedom: one whole hour.

Now we have to work faster. Lose more sleep. Increase our pace in the American Rat Race of Life.

Can anyone tell me what we are saving through Daylight SAVINGS Time?

Your Questions and Comments Recapped

So your house flooding is only mild, huh? No "big" news?
Right. You answered your question. If you have any other questions you would like to ask and then answer on my blog, feel free to do so.

Your blog should get hits off of Google news.
Yep, any day now.

I think your idea of every once in a while answering questions and commenting on the comments is a good blog post.
Glad you think so. The problem is... I can't do this unless people comment/ask a question! So........ the ball is in you's/ya'll/your (depending on your geographic location) park.

What camera does your sister use?
Um, it's gray... small -- somewhere between a Elf and Rebel (can't remember the name). It's a Canon. It has a button you push when you are ready to capture the picture. I think it has a few flash options. I don't know much about it except that it's a digital and she bought it somewhere off the Internet. I also know that when I take a picture with it, it doesn't get as fancy as it gets when she takes the picture. I honestly think the camera is partial but if you're still interested, perhaps she will take the liberty to post her camera details on this post's comment box. (hint, hint)

In reality we limit God when we say "it'll always happen this way because it always has..."
Great point and a very good thought. I would agree with that on every aspect of life except for the function of the sun rising every morning and my husband not changing the clocks. Some things are never meant to change because they are unable to change because God made then unchangeable.

Question? How do you set a sundial ahead or behind one hour?
Just like I do with all the clocks in my house that I haven't changed yet: do math. Add or subtract an hour, depending on the time of year. I have an idea that changing a sundial is as lofty an idea as expecting my husband to automatically change our clocks. So, I probably wouldn't spend too much time figuring this method out.

Just in case you think I am as organized as my youthful sister (P.V.E.) it is now Tues . afternoon and most of the clocks in this house that I might be remotely concerned with are still on winter time.
I feel your pain.

It's That Time Already?

Yup, be sure and change your clocks folks!

Does it go like this at your house? Year after year, this is our experience.

Or so I fear since it's always been this way.

Post Number 5, Day Number 5

What an eye catching title, eh? Certainly not but it honestly says what this post is all about: 5 posts in 5 days.

My life is so uninteresting lately and has had so few blog moments in it. For instance, finding 15 pictures on my camera phone after Landon explored his photography skills with it while I was away from him for a few minutes is interesting but hardly worth blogging about. Neither is there anything worth mentioning about the morning I was nursing Alex and happened to see Janae open the hot oven door, shut it and then turn around and start digging in the knife drawer. Or how she grabbed a butcher knife because she wanted to snag a toy that was under the cupboard with it. And then having Alex perform his amazing Hoover Skills where he scoots and rolls and swims around on the floor and ingests any item that would normally be sucked into an electric vacuum. You can understand that we are saving on vacuum cleaner bags these days.

All of these details are perhaps unusual and maybe a little exciting but so unblogworthy. (is that a word?) So, I did some checking around for you this morning...

If the winter has you down and you are looking for something inspiring to do, MAKE THESE BROWNIES. You will be divinely inspired to quit any diet you are on and contemplate not starting the diet you were considering. These are worth the extra 5 or 10 lbs. you might put on and every time you see that extra roll on your hip you acquired after you consumed these brownies, you will once again savor that delicious brownie. Seriously. And this is coming from me: somebody who does not normally LIKE chocolate nor enjoys putting an extra roll on my hips.

For a lively discussion about the Quiverful Quest, check this link out. To expand your thoughts, browse this commenter's site as well. Never mind where I stand; these blogs are not mine and the writers have a right to say what they believe on their individual blogs. I'm not condoning or condemning either post; sometimes it's good to spur your perspective and provoke deep thoughts on issues that are controversial but NOT political for once, if you know what I mean.

And then there's the single girls that will probably not have a lot in common with the above link about babies and such. So, head on over here for a little insight from someone in your own shoes. You might find a kindredness in your camaraderie with the little gang of single girls there.

If you love tiny babies (and by tiny, I mean 1lb. 13oz.) and are needing to count your blessings today, hop on over here and read the journey of faith, trials and tears of this little family. They are hardly through this long battle but the joy and love that radiates in their lives is a real blessing. And is a great testimony to the miracle of life.

In order to do a little of my own thought provoking here, what version does everyone prefer for their own personal Bible devotions? Is it KJV for you? Or NIV? Or NAS? Or RSV? Or ICBV? Or NKJV? Or ASV? Or UVWXYZ???? Not to offend anyone but I have given up on the KJV for my own personal Bible time. I was tired of pretending that I knew what it was saying and realized that having a short time in my day for Bible reading was not conducive for deep thinking on matters that should be simple to understand. So, I set aside my beloved KJV for my personal Bible reading (I do love that version best for sound and the ancient lingual flare) but I had to make my Bible reading more productive. What about you? Comment anonymously if you feel the need to.

Oh, and about the brownies... they were such a good idea that Landon asked first me and then his dad, "Does God like brownies?" I think that should explain how heavenly that treat was.

For Once I Have Nothing To Say

In a feeble attempt to blog 4 days in a row, this is an announcement to let you know that I have nothing to blog about today.

HA. I just realized that by blogging about not being able to blog today, I have actually produced a blog post today. So, my attempt was realized and I did blog 4 days in a row.

I wish I could feel this successful about my laundry...

Facts That Until Now Were Unblogged

March 2 Was A Big Day For Landon. He turned 4, started Sunday School and shared a birthday party with 2 cousins who also share his birthday month. He even got a guitar that day.

Janae Hasn't Participated In Any Breaking News. At least for a few days now. And that in itself is worth commenting on. (Knocking really hard on wood right now...)

Alex Has His Own Room. Or, at least is the only one that sleeps in the living room. He gets a whole full corner to himself which is actually a big deal because our living room only really has 1 full corner. Best of all, he is sleeping so much better now... or should I just say that I am since I can't hear him everytime he cries or makes noise during the night.

Our Basement Will Soon Be Listed In The Guinness Book Of Records. Seriously, it has got to be the world's most challenging basement to waterproof. The Basement Professionals have been here going-on-three-times and it won't be until the middle of March before we know if the problem is fixed. I wouldn't be surprised if they just throw in the towel and give us our money back and advise us to just put a swimming pool down there.

Our Van Demanded A Replacement. If you are wondering why, I'll just say that it would take less time to tell you what was right/unbroke/safe about it than to tell you what was wrong/destroyed/damaged about it. The Lord blessed us with a perfect solution and we were glad to find just what we were looking for right away.

We Made Flubber. And I thought it was a good idea until I went out of the room to talk to Toby (I should've known better) and came back to find blue flubber all over the floor, the table, our bed, up and down and around Janae's pajamas and deep within the fibers of a few spots in the carpet. If you don't know what Flubber is, here's the recipe and a video. The kids spent *literally* hours playing with it.

Toby Is A Really Good Husband. But I bet you all knew that already? Even after 5 years of marriage, it still dawns on me during the few quiet spots in my day that I am married and live with a charming and good husband. I still can't believe it.

Last And Least I Have No Interesting News On Me. So, I guess that's all I have to say about that.

Being Real

I couldn't have said this better than my friend Hannah did...

I want my blog to be a place where I write what I’m passionate about - thoughts and 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 love blogging. I love having a place to just be me. To say what I think without getting permission. To say what I believe. To focus on things that matter to me.

But, so often I tend to become effected by what's around me, what's screaming in my ear, what's staring me in the face that I forget the bigger picture. I forget what I am passionate about. I am so influenced by others that a comment or a conversation or a concern of theirs can produce the very actions I wish to eliminate altogether. In the end, it is not me behind my face and I hate that.

Sometimes I feel like I should shake your hand and say, Hi, my name is Courtney, you really don't know me and I'm ready to stop pretending that you do. But, I can't. That would not be appropriate. You would learn too much. You would be uncomfortable.

I am convinced that we would rather know people the way we think we know them then actually get to know them for real, sometimes. We like to feel comfortable in our assessments of folks and it can be disturbing to consider that perhaps, there is something a little deeper that the outside does not show.

Life is real for everyone of us. But many of us don't admit that in honesty. Yeah, we can say, "life is real" but to actually explain in clear facts what life means to us, we often hide those secrets.

Why? Because we are safer. Privacy, secrecy, it all keeps us feeling safe. And that's fine. There is no reason to blow your cover if you are comfortable with it. But beware of a facade. Facades do not stand the test of time. My real and your real can be shrouded by a cloud of misconceptions; you let me see your life in the light that I live mine and I let you see my life in the light of how you live yours. That is not real life though and I'm beginning to think that it's better to know the truth soon rather than late.

...if it doesn’t mean anything to me, I certainly can’t help it mean much to anyone else. That's what I love about blogging. You don't have to say it if you don't believe it. You don't have to make it mean anything to somebody else unless it truly means the world to you. And if it isn't you, if you aren't passionate about something, don't make it look like you.

Psalm 51:6

"Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom."

Answered Questions and Comments

Once again, answering your questions, replying to your comments and thanking you for giving me something to blog about today!

I presume that somewhere along the line of events you took Alex off of the couch so that he didn't fall by himself. Or is he actually capable of climbing down on his own?
I personally took him off myself that time but we think he should learn to do it by himself pretty soon if he's going to be on the couch anyway.

Do you ever wonder why 2 ancient ladies read and comment on your blog?
No, why do they?

The mystery item that A. swallowed will either digest or pass of its on accord.
Then let's hope he never finds it on the floor again.


How do you get the back ground on your blog with the pictures of your kids?
I take a picture of my kids every time I blog and hyperlink it carefully into each post. Then I shrink the pixels so that you can't tell they are actually older in the picture than they look. It takes me about 1 hour and 37 minutes to set it all up because they have to wear those same outfits every time and they're usually in the laundry. No seriously, the picture, the idea, the background, it is all copyrighted so you can't have it anyway so don't ask. But, if you must know... it's embedded in my template through the logistics of HTML. Go ask my sister how she did it.

"Do not fear for I am with, do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Excellent reminder. I see now why the Bible also talks about posting the Words of the Lord on the door posts of our houses and hanging them on our children's necks: I would forget them otherwise. Thanks for "posting" that today for me to see. I needed that.

A Time To Build And A Time To Tear Down

Ripped Off Child's Folding Table Cover!
Broken *New* CD Player Hatch!
Important Flash Drive Found In Dryer!
Chunk Of Glass Missing From Favorite China Tea Cup!
Shredded Pants Leg During Naptime!
Ink On Bedsheet During Naptime!
Mud Trails Through Private Residence!

You are probably thinking that I'm writing headlines for a horror magazine or becoming an editor for those dumb check out aisle magazines that your mom always forbade you to read since nothing in them was true anyway. Actually, it's neither. I am writing a documentation of the incidents that have taken place within the four walls of our home recently.

Tools and methods used to implement destruction:

Table cover
Quick moving, swift handled butter knives. The faster the better. Invite your sister to participate. (This happened in 2 minutes max and I was sitting just 10 feet away).

Broken CD player
Repetitious slamming of CD lid with a little added "umph." That's all I have to say about that.

Flash drive tragedy
If it fits in your pocket, then put it there; right? Of course right. She showed me how she put it in her pocket and everything. But, guess who got blamed? The Laundry Lady: because she didn't check pockets... I digress. I have to wonder just WHO would think that leaving an important Flash drive with in a toddler's reach is a good idea anyway? In case this isn't escalated bad enough in your mind, this flash drive held my father-in-law's entire computer on it. And then some. He left for Haiti the day before the missing Flash drive appeared.

Devasted China tea cup
Slam-buffet-drawer-quickly-when-you-hear-Mom-coming. China conveniently topples, falls and chips in sufficient manners. Great method because you never actually have to touch the China but it still gets the job done.

Shredded Pants
The next time boredom sets in when you are supposed to be napping, just begin picking (with your fingers) at the seam of your pants. Like you'd pick your nose. You will soon have a fancy design styled on the knee of your pants unlike any of your friends. The frayed look is in folks! Wear it generously.

Tattooed bed sheet
The next time boredom sets in when you are supposed to be napping, just find a pen. Write your thoughts on the first thing you see and get expressive.

Mud trails
Bring nature indoors! Cram mud generously in your mud boots and proceed to stamp your footprint all over the house. Not much is needed: mud is noticed more indoors than outside so a little goes a long way.

Side notes:

The CD player thankfully did not have a CD in it. That was one less thing that got wrecked that day.

Let mud dry on the carpet then vacuum. It really works. Especially when you procrastinate.

The China tea cup... sadness. I might be able to replace it.

Pants and bedsheets can be replaced.

We learned that Flash drives can actually be washed in a front load washer. And put through a dryer cycle. And still work. Through this experiment, we found that they are actually quite kid proof. Get a few for your kids to play with; it takes a lot to destroy them which is something you can't say about very many toys these days.

I can be glad: at least we all still have all our body parts and limbs intact. When most of the above happened in one day alone, I began to fear for the next moment. And for my life.

But, like my husband always says, "It'll all be fine in end; if it's not fine, then it's not the end yet."

Time To Say Goodbye

You're probably thinking I came here today to say goodbye to Blogger. Rather, it is much worse. Toby's folks left for Haiti this week and life has not been the same since.

No more, "Hey kids! Let's go to Grandma's house," and then watching Janae's light up as she says, "Gamma!"

No more phone ringing with a Grandma calling from just 2 minutes away.

No more, "Can I have your kids for the day while you get something done?"

No more extra family close by.

I feel lonely and all alone. I forgot for the 5 months they were here that this way of life is actually normal for us... I've just got to find that normal now.

Kid Klips

Yeah Right
"Hey Court!" I heard Landon say as I walked out of the room. Turning slowly and silently with an aire of reproval on my face, I looked at him. He grinned (read, smirked) and quickly said, "I was talking to another Court."

Little Parrot
Toby often talks to Janae in an encouraging and soft voice when she deserves praise for something. He calls her endearing things like "sweetheart" at the same time as well. One day I overheard Landon and Janae playing and Landon was just doting on his little sister with the most affectionate tone of voice... "Good job, Sweetheart! That's how you do it Sweetheart! Hey Sweetheart..."

The Guy in the Brown Truck
Landon found a package on the table and knew exactly where it came from.... "Oh! the SRP came to our house!" (UPS)

A Language of Her Own
Janae: "Caucky" (said in a squaky tone of voice and implies coffee)
A hair bun is called a "bum."
Her new mud boots are called "boops."
"Na-niKe!" (Good night)
"I sick." (when she gets full prematuraly during a meal time and would just really like her dessert)
Basketball and popsicle are said the same.
For being a chatty little girl, her language skills are pretty much set in their own way and are very minimally at best the dialect of most English speaking people. It makes for interesting moments of communication.

Definition of Catastrophe

The following story is not based on a true story; it IS a true story.

I stepped out of the room for approx. 30 seconds. I had to tell Toby an important detail or piece of information that is totally failing my memory now. It must've been important at the time though because I was sacrificing my constant vigil on the kiddos in order to tell their dad something interesting for 27.9 seconds.

So, I finish telling him, and then wearily muse to myself (but out loud) that I had to get back to the kids because somebody was probably dying by now.

Landon heard me and said, "What? Somebody is dying, Mom? Who's dying?"

I didn't have time to answer because I looked into the living room and saw Alex (8mo. old) laying on the couch on his belly with a pillow on top of him while he chewed on my shoe.

Okay, when I left Alex, he was safely sitting on the floor with a blanket several feet from the couch.

I don't leave my shoes on the couch.

I don't put the baby on the couch and then leave the room.

I don't put pillows on top of the baby while he lays on the couch when I'm not in the room.

And I definitely don't let him chew on my shoe.

Landon was very quick to inform me that he put Alex there and by the look on his face, I could see he thought it was a great idea.

"Mom, I picked him up really tight," was his explanation that I guess was supposed to help me not be alarmed by the situation.

As if this wasn't enough excitement, I decided to go tell Toby what happened.

I came back through the dining room on my way back from Toby (I was gone for about 7.5 seconds that time) and what should I find but Janae awkwardly lumbering about in boots on the wrong feet.

I told her to take the boots off.

She turned around to do that (or so I thought) and took off running, tripping, falling and landing with one boot flung off, one boot stuck on and one very sore foot. Oh, and she was in tears too. Lots of tears. Loud tears, by the way.

This time, Toby came to the situation (the tears were loud, remember?) so I didn't have to risk anybody else's life in order to inform him of the family happenings.

And then, to end our story, let me tell you about what happened next.

I was blogging here for just a moment. Alex and Janae were both feet away from me right in my line of vision. What should happen but Alex started choking and coughing and gagging and gasping and eventually swallowing something mysterious.

I'm not even going to tell Toby this part in our story today but trust he will just have to find it on this blog; I can't risk blinking my eyes for a second let alone leaving the room for 2 seconds.

That's why I blog. So Toby (and the rest of the world) won't wonder what made me go crazy the day I end up in the nut house. And it also keeps him (and you) updated on the unbelievables that actually happen behind our closed doors.

Commenting on Comments and a FYI about Xanga

...so we're sound asleep and at exactly 3:00[am] our computer starts blaring this music!!!! It's NEVER done that before!... So we've now decided to never read your blog again lest all your posts come back to haunt us.

That must be my problem too. Thanks for pointing that out. I will never read my blog before bed again. Not that I normally do but really, reading it at any time of day is obviously before bed. I hope you realize that too and will stop losing sleep over music at 3 AM. Isn't that an awful experience?

Should I move to Milford?

The never ending journey that so many young people find themselves in a perpetual state of asking: what should I do with my life? But, this young reader has stepped one step beyond her peers by asking the highlighted question above instead. The question that obviously purposes the idea of moving out of her "state" in finding what she should do with her life. To all you single girls out there, maybe get specific about what you should do by asking something very defined like this young reader did. Because, watch this: I will answer that question now, giving the asker no reason for doubt or worry: YES. See how easy that was?

Now, a comment for xanga readers...

Thank you to all who left your blog addresses recentely, especially you xanganites. I was pleased to make your aquaintance and sorely regret to say that my computer is not on good terms with the domain you use in which to blog (xanga) so I am unable to read your sites. Please do not be offended when I never comment on your sites: I go to them once in a great while but usually only when I'm in the mood for my computer to go offline unexpectedly. Trying to comment is next to impossible because of all the reconnecting I have to do, if I'm lucky. I can barely see your photos unless they quickly load before my computer disconnects.

So, my apologies for not commenting on your sites and for not putting footprints there. You all were so kind to comment here and let me know that you read my blog. I wish I could return the favor but I am unable to do so due to a technical difficulty... which is really a sad thing in this technically advanced world we live in.

Your Questions Answered

A few of you have asked questions in your comments and I have sorely neglected to respond. I decided to do that here and thought maybe if any of you have other questions, I'll just respond to them on a weekly basis or something. I may not have advice but I probably have an answer for you. Sorry for the delays but hopefully you won't have to wait so long next time.

(By the way, if you asked me a question and I don't have it here, ask again because a lot of them got lost in my inbox somewhere and I was having a hard time digging them up.)

Does Toby read your blog regularly?
Yes, he does. And he actually likes it when I blackmail him.

By the way, have a very happy anniversary. Is it today?
Thank you very much and it was Friday, the 15th.

awww! That fateful night in November....
I disagree. And you would too if you contemplated the fact that you would have no neice or nephews to photograph had your brother-in-law not proposed to his girlfriend: your sister.

I am just wondering if you are praying each week for an unmarried friend?
No, I pray for one a day. So far, no body is married but a couple have prospects that they didn't have at the beginning of my prayer resolution. The only problem is that the prospects are not the right ones. So, I am learning how to pray specifically... or stop praying altogether unfortunately.

Enjoying Motherhood but Burdened by the Work

Monday mornings... oh! I love them! Just kidding. I am not a I-hate-Monday-morning-kind-of-person but lately, I could do without them very much, thank you.

Today began in earnest around 6AM. The phone was ringing, the radio was on, Toby was running around turning on lights, getting half dressed to get a fax, couldn't find his cold-weather overalls and leaving his alarm beeping endlessly. After a night of fitful sleeping (thanks to a teething 8 month old) I felt rather shell shocked. Or like adrenaline had been surging all night and thankfully was still in effect. Or like I was stunned. Or dazed. I should've felt tired but didn't. It suddenly dawned on me that I needed to make coffee and Toby's lunch so I groggily realized the brevity of this Monday morning and faced it bravely while stumbling in the dark trying not to wake the baby. Again.

The baby is still zonked and the kids are still sleeping so at least it's quiet. I can make a slow adjustment to the day without feeling like I opened my eyes to the earth crashing down on my face.

The house was a wreck. Notice I say "was." Groceries still sat on the floor from the late night shopping trip the other night. Dishes still littered the sink from the late night shopping trip I was on while my family enjoyed supper at home. Laundry lay scattered everywhere from my late night shopping trip that I should've skipped in order to get the laundry done. Sunday School papers lay unread. The Sunday paper looked like it had taken over the house. It was a disaster. A few minutes of uninterrupted cleaning and picking up made the house look transformed.

And I guess that's what I was thinking about when I came to my blog today. How can I get everything done in a day that I need to get done when I have 3 little kids pulling me 3 different directions all day long? I can get up early and spend 5 minutes getting something done alone that normally would take me an hour to do after the kids are up but once they're up, a lot of stuff gets un-done. Even with constant surveillance! It is a source of frustration because it makes the effort I put into work pointless. Like I'm wasting my time trying to keep things picked up.

A few of the things I've tried:

A toddler "chore" chart.
(this takes a lot of MY concentration that it fails to really contribute to the day in a positive way.)
Locking all toys except Legos in a closet.
(literally, locked the door and forbade entrance to anyone but an authorized person.)
Do it myself.
(this fails to teach the kids personal responsibility.)
Repeat doing it myself.
(this also fails to teach the kids personal responsibility and can produce a lot of maternal frustration.)
Ignored the work and played instead.
(this can be relaxing for about 2 minutes but after that, the chaos it ensues is not worth the brief relaxation.)
Do it when they're gone/sleeping.
(this is the only thing that works but considering my kids are not usually gone and don't sleep all day, this isn't a very reliable choice.)

I noticed a lot of young moms with young kids put a comment on my "Knock, Knock" post. I need advice. What have you guys found to work? Any seasoned mother's advice would be great as well.

A few contributing factors would be:

-Toys are all stored in childrens' rooms; continually spilling into living room. Our house is small so this is a big thing-- toys seem to be everywhere and my kids only have a few they play with.

-Another thing that is an issue is the size and set-up of our kitchen. I used to have Landon (Janae was still pretty young) "help" me in the kitchen. He would stand on a chair at a work area and peel potatoes, dump flour, stir dough and batter, "cut" veggies, etc. I have no work place in this kitchen so the only thing I can have the kids do is line muffin tins with papers... out in the diningroom. Otherwise, if they bring a chair into the kitchen (make that 2 chairs now since Janae likes to "help" if Landon gets to) there is hardly room to work let alone counter space to work at. It is a good source for frustration.

So, I am greatly looking forward to a new kitchen. We had even contemplated making a work counter below standard in order to make it more "kid friendly" but decided against it since they'll grow into a standard height soon enough. I can't imagine having all those counters to work at and can hardly wait to make use of everyone of them just for one meal. It will be glorious.

In the meantime, I am looking for ways to incorporate my kiddos into the daily affairs of this household and not make them just another "thing" on my to-do list. I think a 3 yr. old has a lot of capability for small chores but it's been a challenge to figure out how to do those without losing order somewhere else. Bear in mind that anything Landon does, Janae has to do... or at least be distracted somewhere else while he does his work. Also, a baby added to the mix makes me feel pulled in 3 directions at once. Sometimes I simply function on reflex and put fires out all day instead of being a step ahead of the kids. I need creativity and tact. My kids need order.

What would you do?

More Anniversary Tid Bits

A few interesting facts about our fifth anniversary...

-- this was the second anniversary that I wasn't 9 months pregnant, or 8 months pregnant or 6 months pregnant. In other words, I am usually pregnant on our anniversaries.

-- this was the second anniversary we spent without eating out.

-- this was the cheapest anniversary we ever celebrated.

-- this was the first anniversary I didn't get flowers.

-- this was the first anniversary that I got a set of china instead of flowers. (my idea.)

-- this was the first anniversary that Toby made the dessert for. (yes folks, I am serious.)

-- this was the first anniversary that grandparents kept the kids.

-- this was the first anniversary and time in history that we stayed home by ourselves with no kids for the night.

-- this was the first anniversary we spent in this house.

-- this was the first fifth anniversary we have ever celebrated.

-- this was the gazillionth time I've muttered to my husband with my arms around his neck as he sweetly looked down at me (11" of height difference gives him the advantage to "look down" at me all the time) "Can you believe we're married?"

After all these years, I still can't believe it happened to me. To us. Marriage is wonderful. And anniversaries are so fun. Especially fifth ones.

Off To A Good Start

It was wonderful. The celebration of our fifth wedding anniversary was spectacular. Reminded me of our honeymoon: no children. And quiet.

Toby's folks had all three kiddos for the night and we stayed home and made supper and ate candy and relaxed without kiddos. The house was almost deathly silent. I loved it although I don't think I would like that sound for very long. I remember now why I wanted to have that first baby so badly.

Everything went well until during the night around 3 am or so. I became awakened. I knew Alex didn't wake me. Or any of the other kids. So, as I layed there in sleepless frustration and not feeling very comfortable, what should I hear but the radio!!

I hate to be quite so blunt in my frustration so let me just say that I hate hate hate waking up to the radio at 3 am. It is the most annoyingly surreal feeling. It leaves you stranded between sleep and waking up. I can't sleep. But, yet I can't fully awaken. It is entirely annoying. To me it's synonomous to having sand in your bed. Or crumbs. Or even as bad as waking up to a sick child puking on you. It is terrible.

I told Toby my perils this morning over a romantic breakfast. I firmly stressed the point that he must not ever turn the radio on ever again during the night again. It makes no sense to me why he'd want to have the radio on anyway. I mean, if you're sleeping, why listen to the radio? The reasoning here is beyond me.

Not wanting to make him think this was optional anymore (we've had this discussion several time in the last 5 years), I told him I was just going to start sleeping in another bed. He didn't like that idea. But, then I got another idea that I knew he'd like even less...

"I'm going to a marriage counselor for this," I stated emphatically.

"Not a marriage counselor?" he asked me in shock.

"Yes, a marriage counselor," I was glad he was feeling the brunt of this.

"Yep and when they give me that card with a list of marriage issues on it, I'll rate them all at a 10 except for the radio question," I informed him poignantly. "That one will be zero at best."

"Oh," he said, knowing full well I know nothing about marriage counseling let alone if they give you a card to rate your marriage on.

So, I guess the next five years of our marriage is off to a good start... if I get rid of that radio. Or go to a marriage counselor.

Being married to the one I love is so fun. Notice I said I'd rate all "marriage issues" at a 10 (on a scale of 1-10) and I truly mean that. We fit together so well that when we do have a little rift (the radio is the biggest thing I can think of) it is more hilarious than anything.

No fears blog world: if we went to a marriage counselor, it would only be to cheer him up and let him see that not all marriages are bad.

Marriage Insights To Commemorate our Anniversary

It's been 5 years. 5 whole years since I began to live my life with a man. My man. 5 years since I pledged my life to him. 5 years since my life changed. And 5 years since I began this exciting experience called: marriage.

If I had known at the beginning of our marriage all I know now, I have to wonder what I'd be learning today. So, to all you single people our there or for those of you that are in your early years of marriage (that would be any number less than 5), let me share a few insights I've had to learn through experience.

#1: If he suggests it (and "it" could mean anything from wanting a cup of coffee to wanting to sell your house), don't treat it as a mere suggestion; his "suggestion" is more serious than the laws of the Medes and Persians.

#2: Never under any circumstances leave a man waiting for anything. Never.

#3: Guys are next to impossible to buy gifts for. And by next to impossible I don't mean they're on this side of impossible; they are actually a step beyond impossible. Boughten gifts are typically very difficult to get if you really want to impress a guy. I mean, really, a shirt is easy to buy but most guys don't get all gushy about a shirt. The best thing I've found to get a man is... um... well, I really can't think of anything right now. After 5 years of marriage I have learned that it is impossible to have a good "stand-by gift" for a man.

#4: You remaining calm in stressful situations (i.e. the two year old spills an entire glass of red koolaid all over the white dining room carpet) is equal to everything good in a marriage. This really impresses men. Obviously, the contrary is also true.

#5: The longer I'm married, the more complicated I believe that men get. They don't like to be usurped over yet there are some things you better be in charge of OR ELSE. They don't like it when you throw leftovers out yet they can get tired of the same thing, day after day. They may not like ice cream with their dessert but mention Dairy Queen and that sounds good. They like to have peace and quite and be left alone sometimes but at the same time not want you to leave. They are complicated. But, that can be so fun because of the creative situations you can create in order to get around their complicatedness. I love that challenge.

#6: Marriage is a bed of roses... without the thorns.

#7: Seriously. Being married is one of the best situations I have ever found myself in. It is fun. Fulfilling. Satisfying. Blissful. And honeymoons don't have to end.

#8: Oh and if you ever disagree with your spouse, that disagreement can do one of two things: pull you apart or draw you closer. In a good marriage, it will draw a couple closer together. (So bring on the disagreements right?... of course not but you know what I mean.)

#9: A husband reveals the bad in you... and the good too.

#10: To have a good husband you have to be a good wife. (Ignore this point all you husbands! Your wives may kill me for saying that but really, it is very true.) And no, I have not seen the contrary to always be true.

#11: The longer I'm married, the less advice I have.

#12: (read insight number eleven again.)

I'd like to take this time to make a little speach and say that I married a good man who makes everyday an adventure. I never thought being married would be this good but ever since I met Toby, he has proven that some things in life are better than they appear they could be. Or should be. Seriously. Sometimes I feel bad for enjoying life as much as do because of my husband.

As we enter the "year of grace" in our marriage (number 5 = grace), I look forward to it with joy and know it will only get better.

I love you Honey!

An Important and (often) Forgotten Date

I know it's far from November 24th but I thought it would be good to remember that day as we approach the date of our wedding anniversary. And what better day to do that than on Valentines day.

Let me explain.

In the early hours of the evening of November 24th, 2002, I heard the sweetest thing anybody had ever said to me.

"I want you to know that I do love you," I heard from the driver's side of the Ford Ranger I was in.

"And I want you to be my wife," the words went on to say for the first time in my life.

"Will you marry me, Courtney?"

I said yes. I married him. And I am glad.

Months later, we laughed about this proposal; it was so short and to the point. I assured Toby that I thought it was sweet. Plus, he is not the get-down-on-one-knee kind of guy so I really didn't mind that he simply asked me to be his wife without including a bunch of fanfare. I like originality too and since no man had ever asked me to be his wife or told me he loved me before, whatever way Toby did it would've been meaningful and original.

Plus, I've never heard a couple say they were engaged in a Ford Ranger pick-up truck while making a quick trip home from Church. That just seems orginal to me.

We still drive down that dusty gravel road where he asked me to marry him. And I think it will forever invoke a flair of nostaligia everytime we make the turn where he slowed to a crawl and told me he loved me for the first time.

I've learned through marriage that a happy woman doesn't need things to make her happy. She doesn't even need a thoughtful husband who thinks of any way he can to surprise her and impress her with his ability to demonstrate love. Her only need is to be loved. Simply loved. And to know she is needed and wanted.

And Toby is good at loving me and showing me that I am needed and wanted in his life. I am content. Helplessly content.

Although he's dashingly thoughtful in so many ways and can remember what I wore the day we met and that the dress had a tiny wrinkle down by the hem, I still marvel over the fact that he never can remember the exact date of our engagement. It's been this way since before we were married -- and we were married 3 1/2 months after this proposal. To this day, he needs me to remind him that, Yes dear, it was indeed the 24th that you proposed to me on.

But, that's okay. I like to feel needed in such an important way in his life. Plus, he hasn't ever forgotten that I am his wife and that I did indeed say yes. So, it's alright.

The Occupation You Can't Get A Degree For

I love that store in the mall, Motherhood Maternity. You walk in and the clerk greets you with, "Welcome to Motherhood." It always takes me back and makes me smile. How theatrical it would've been to hear someone say that the day I stepped into the real life of motherhood. But nobody needed to say anything; reality was screaming it and has been every since.

I thought I was ready to get married and start a family when Toby asked my dad if he could court me. I thought I was. In many ways I was. I was good at what I did and compared to a lot of girls my age, I was more than good: I was experienced.

I could cook. I could cook without a recipe. I could cook meals and put them in the freezer. I could plan menus. I could by food in bulk. I knew the best prices. I could can the food I cooked. I loved cooking and baking.

I could clean. I could clean fast. I could organize and clean. I could disinfect and clean. I could bleach without getting it on my clothes. I could clean charred ovens by hand. I could clean toilets and loved it. I could clean grimy sinks and loved it. My two favorite things to clean were (and still are) toilets and sinks.

I could do laundry. I could run a top loader with a sud saver. I could run a top loader without a sud saver. I could run a front loader. I could do 14 loads of laundry a week in a wringer wash machine and then hang it by hand in the basement. I could make laundry soap. I could be frugal about laundry.

I could babysit. I could babysit for days on end by myself with no adults around. I could take care of kids without flinching. I was a natural with small children.

I could change diapers. I could change disposable diapers and cloth diapers. I could make home made wet wipes and use them. I could change diapers for years on end without thinking twice about it.

I could give bottles. Take temperatures. Administer breathing treatments. Look for good color in a baby's skin. Feed children. Garden. Farm. Milk goats. Sew. Quilt. Organize. Run a household. etc.

And then I got married. And had a baby. And I found I was a novice. Completely unprepared. I had no idea motherhood was as heavy a load as it is. Not that it doesn't have it's joys and blessings (it has more than I thought possible) but it is the hardest occupation anyone can pursue.

I had this comment in my comment box recently from a reader who's daughter-in-law is in the throes of motherhood right now....

"She had a problematic day yesterday. All was going well, and in 5 minutes everything fell apart. Is there a high school class for this profession?"

I couldn't agree more. There should be a class for it. Or an entire school. Or at least some time in a boot camp. Seriously.

If a man is going to cut into your brain, he will first go to school for it. If a woman is going to draw blood from your arm, she will first go to school for it. If a man is going to fly to the moon, he will first go to school for it. If a woman is going to teach your kids their ABC's, she will first go to school for it. If a man joins the army, he will first spend weeks of intense training before going into battle. If a woman is going to decorate your house, she will first go to school for it. If a man cooks you a meal at a fancy restaurant, he will first go to school for it. All these occupations require training, learning and provide the student with much information. They also usually guarantee some type of retirement so that in the end, you're prepared to live off your past income.

But, if you decide to spend the next 25 years of your life working night and day, everyday of the week putting on band aids, enduring pregnancy and labor, explaining to your 3 year old why the moon can't sit in the back yard, cooking three meals a day, taking care of your house, saving the life of your 2 year old five times a day and staying up most of the night with your baby, you're on your own. There is no school for you honey. If you can't figure something out, sorry. Just keep trying; you'll get it at some point. Whether you succeed or fail, you won't be paid with money either.

Though motherhood is not a job you can get a degree for beforehand, it's definitely a school within itself; the School of Learning. And we all know we can never graduate from Learning. From what I've learned though, it's the most rewarding job a mom can have. I'd have to admit that though Motherhood is hard and can be unsuspecting at times, it's highly under rated. You have no idea the joy at the end of the day when you look at the day behind you and see what all it held. "Her works shall praise her," is enough of a reward for me.

The Definition of a Normal Day

I looked downstairs in time to see a child spilling laundry softener all over a table. If I thought that was bad enough, I should've held my breath for what came next.

I told the child to let it go and leave it alone.

The child then stepped back and explained they were catching the spilled softener through a crack in the table. And what should he be collecting it in but an upside-down toilet plunger.

As if to add to the excitement, the baby was screaming, the cat was in heat and letting the whole neighborhood know and my hair still wasn't fixed at 10:30 am. UGH.

Then, Janae came upstairs with dirt caked boots and Landon begged to play with "cabinets." (they're actually "sticky rocks" or magnets but he gets his words mixed up sometimes.) By begged, I mean he insistently pleaded. While the baby cried. While the cat meowed. While Janae vigorously kicked her boots off all over the kitchen floor.

The worst part about it isn't that my child was holding a germ coated toilet plunger. Or that I am about ready to kill the cat. Or that Janae's boots meant dirt all over the floor. Or that Alex's crying is at about 257 decibles. The worst thing about this situation is that I used that laundry softener when I was pregnant with Alex. I vowed to never smell the stuff again. Ever. Again. That smell always puts me right back to those sick, pregnant days. I get sick just thinking about that smell.

And now because my child is running all over this house with it coating his shirt sleeves, I can't get away from the smell. I feel pregnant now. And sick. I almost think I need to take a pregnancy test. Seriously. That smell is that bad.

Some days are just like this: you never know what will happen next. I have learned that if it's not a normal day, everything goes the way you expect it to. Today must be a normal day.

Thanks...

...to all you who commented! It is always great fun to see some of who is peeking in here on a regular basis. (I say some, because not all of you commented... you know who you are. :) )

It was nice to see some of our family that commented as well. Not only do I know you but we're related! (I hope you don't mind... :) )

As has been mentioned before, my blog is an outlet for me. Where I express opinion, thoughts and a bit of my perspective on life. I want to remember some of these mundane details of daily life with three kids, three and under. It always surprises and blesses me when I get comments of other people who are reading here and finding what I write to be worth reading. I enjoy hearing what you think. So, thanks again for your comments.

Now we return to "regular" posting. A few things on the calender this week range from home improvement to a special anniversary. Hopefully, it will be worth you staying tuned.

Knock, knock... Who's there?

There is no special reason to do this again except for the fact that we did it a year ago. So I guess that would be one special reason. (We could make this National Blog Delurking Month.)

I am shy to do this though. The proof is in the fact that I've had this post in my drafts bin since last week. I hate pressuring people but here goes...

I am not a "comment on every post" kind of blog reader so I won't make you feel obligated to do that either. I understand your hesitency to even comment now incase you feel pressured to make a steady habit of doing so. I'm not asking for your allegiance. I'm not asking for money either. Or for a donation. Or for your commenting habit.

All I want is just a tinsy winsy tiny comment. That's all. Just one little comment on this post that you are reading now. Don't leave your bank number or your credit card number or even social security number. I don't need that (I can hardly keep track of my own the way it is.) Just a name and blog address (where applicable) would be nice.

And I promise, you won't have to do this again until the next time I ask. Seriously.

Kid Klips

Know-it-all Brother
Explaining to Janae that the bag of chocolate chips she wanted to open was not for snacking, Landon "read" the back of the package.... "For making cookies and pancakes..."

He's Had Enough
I told Landon to clean up his room quickly. He informed me in desperation, "I already cleaned my room plenty of times... plenty of times I cleaned my room, Mom."

A Good Excuse Not to Nap
Not wanting to take a nap one day, Landon listlessly layed in his bed, stared up at the ceiling and said mournfully, "Mom, I am starting to die."

Why We Dress Warm
(before going outside) Landon: Jea, put your pants on or your knees will get cold.

The Gift of Today

Oh man. Some days are just strange. Like today for instance. I had all the ingredients for a good day -- 3 healthy children, full health myself, productivety, good marriage, tons of laundry (not that tons of laundry is actually a "good" thing but it does indicate that we are a healthy, bustling family that is alive and well), a borrowed afternoon housemaid, warm house, etc. misc. etc. -- but it was just not one of those top-of-the-list good days.

It probably had something to do with yesterday. Yesterday was supposed to be the best day of the year (so far) or at least the most relaxing or the most get-in-touch-with-yourself I've had in a long time days or basically, the most kid-less day I've had since having kids 3 years ago. But I wrecked it by (get this) spoiling the opportunity to be productive by spending my energies on a dress pattern. A stupid, no good, dress pattern. I have about decided to make a vow before a great congregation to never again touch a sewing machine, piece of fabric or a dress pattern again. In my life. Ever. Again. I will file for restraining order that will forever hereafter forbid me from entering a fabric store again. In my life. Ever. Again.

I really should do that because this morbid depression has wrecked one entire day of my life. All because of a dress pattern, two precious days of my life were wrecked. FOR NO GOOD REASON.

So. That day was shot and it should've been a good day. But actually, in truth, it really was a good day. I could sit in quiet and just think. I could sew without interuption. I could contemplate my surroundings. I could listen to preaching. And I could find out that yet another dress pattern in my pattern bin does not work. So, that's good. Never make the same mistake twice on a pattern when you spend all day working on it.

Then today came. Yes, today. Today was just "one of those days." I did not look forward to today before it even started. I guess that set the tone. I should know better than to do that but really, I guess I forgot. Dumb reason, I know. My attitude wore off on the kids and that is not good. Everything was a downhill battle. Eat your food (and it wasn't). Go to bed (and they cried). Clean your room (and she bit him). Don't go outside (and the dog came in and peed on the floor.) Play with your toys (and he got busy playing with a knife). Etc. Stuff like that all day long wore me out.

Now it's evening. The kids are tucked in bed ALL THREE SLEEPING and looking the perfect pictures of innocence. I have my computer in my lap for the first time in a long time (it should feel honored that I didn't just throw it out in the snow bank) and I'm relaxing in a nice, big, soft recliner. I'm uncomfortable though and can't sit still. Toby would be going nuts if he was next to me right now..."Can't you just sit still?" He would say lovingly. And I would say, "No, I can't. I tried." And he would say, "Geeez, just hold still for 2 minutes." And I would say, "I can't; I must have that Restless Leg Syndrom." And he would say, "Just don't move your legs then." And I would say, "It's impossible; I can't get comfortable." And he would say, "You're worse than a little kid." And I would say, "I know." And he would say something I'm sure because he always says something and I would probably say something then since I always say something and we would be having this conversation not getting anywhere but feeling content that we were making important and valid points to one another.

But instead, I sit out here alone. With my unfaithful computer. Tossing and turning in this chair. Reclining and sitting up. Kicking my feet. Holding my feet still. My lap is too hot from this computer. My feet are too hot (they always get hot when I sit in this chair for some reason) My heel is cracked and throbbing. My toe itches (I hate that). My eyes are tired.

And tomorrow is another new day. Another day to be a mom. To be a wife. To run a house. To set the tone. To remember the better part.

To only remember that the better part is often in the most hidden places. The places that I overlook when a pile of dishes threatens an avalanche. The places that I can't see beyond that mountain of laundry. The places that hide underneath those mischevious eyes. The places that disappear when I lose patience. Yet I can easily find those special places when I remember the Source. And that I am a mom yes, but I am first His child.

Gone But Not Forgotten

It is time to commemorate a moment of solemn silence. A moment in which we reflect on what once was and now has passed on. A time in which we acknowledge our personal depravity. A moment to dedicate to a precious memory; the fragile fragment left of what we once cherished.

Basically, it is a time to regret as well. Regret our own stupidity. Our own habit of procrastination. A time to stifle the desire to shoot ourselves in the foot in order to help numb the pain of regret. The reality that we are here and that is gone and why why why? To squelch the mantra of whys.

Bad news always has good news and unbelievably, there is good news as we commemorate what was good and now is bad. The good news is my computer is fixed. The bad news (if you are standing, sit down now).... I lost all (are you sitting?) ALL our pictures (yes, brace yourselves folks) from our Christmas celebration this last year (please, someone shoot me.) The bad news is also that I had plenty of time to back them up but didn't. (I deserve a just and harsh punishment... at least send me nasty emails to make me feel better.)

I have more bad news (and this involves you dear folks -- not that you are bad news but let me get to my point). I lost my favorites list. The blog addresses of many dear friends (both the ones I have met and the ones I haven't met... only in the twenty-first centruy can you have friends that you haven't met). So, if you would be so kind to comment on this post and leave your addresses, I would be able to update my desolate blog list in my empty favorites bin.

The good news I mentioned above is hardly good to me. I don't even want my computer anymore. I don't even like it. I don't even want it to have an inkling of a clue that I may have possibly missed it in it's week-long absence. And I don't even want to upload any pictures to it. Ever. Again. It has been like an unfaithful, back stabbing, friend. Hardly the latter, actually.

With that, we conclude the morbid addition to our posting and resume normal topics... such as what's brewing for an upcoming anniversary... or, life with three kids three and under three hundred hours a day three thousand days a week... or, remodeling your kitchen with a three year old... or, tips to keep your hair while pulling it out (actually, I don't have any information on that one but I am researching how people pull that off... pardon the pun)... or, whatever else it is we normally blog about here when computers aren't the issue.

I just really have to get over that unfaithful computer that lost all those precious, priceless pictures.

Kid Klips

God And The Bible
Landon: Dad, does God have a Bible?


The Way To A Man's Stomach
I had just given Landon some prune juice. After he gulped down a few swallows he came over to me. "Hey Mom, look in my stomach," Landon said as he opened his mouth wide, "See my prune juice?"


One Thing God Can't Do
Landon: If Landon died, God could just make another one.


Landon's interpretations:
Train cars = hooks
Magnadoodle = write thing
Seward Walmart = the funny walmart


Have A Good Time/See Ya Later
Landon: Have a good later!


The Universal Headache
"I have a headache," Landon moaned from his car seat after church one Sunday. "Where's your headache, Landon?" I asked him. His response? "In my 'froat.' "


This Is The Way We Count
One day Landon was playing with 2 cars and I asked him how many cars he had. "Two," was his response. And then he went on, "See.... two, four, nine, six!"


Landon Millan
Brittney looked outside just in time to see the dog chewing on Landon's favorite shoes. "Landon, quick! get your shoe from Elly," she said, sending Landon out the door. Instead of taking the shoe and coming into the house which is what we assumed he'd do, he surprised us with something else. Just the night before, Landon had watched some brief video clips of Cesar Millan training dogs. It turns out that Landon had compiled his own technique on the matter. He implemented a few of them on are dense basset pup and then left his shoe on the deck. The dog never touched the shoe again.

If only he could get the dog to quit chewing on Janae!

On Technology and Trying Times

I have been unable to keep up with my "regular" posting for one reason: my computer blitzed. Or crashed. Or broke down. Or the hard drive went bad. Or technically failed. Or basically, in simple english, it won't turn on all the way. I have so many "save draft" posts that I can finally blame on something... even though I haven't been in blogger since my computer froze up or broke or whatever it did and all those drafts were saved before this trauma came to my life in the form of a faulty computer. Who knows how many of those "save draft" posts I would've published had my computer been working.

So, I have been doing other things. Like, laundry, cleaning mud and snow and dirt, cooking and getting sick. For such an abrupt hiatus from the world wide web, I should be able to speak of getting more done in my life. You know, those projects we always talk about getting done the day we happen to have extra time? Well, I've had that extra time but I haven't really gotten much extra done. The day after my computer took sick, I took sick too and had myself a nice dose of the flu. That kind of effects one's overall productivity for the day: I was lucky to get dressed one day... let alone do the list of stuff I had planned to do that day.

Anyway, I said all that to say life has taken an unexpected sabbatical from life as I knew it since my computer crashed or broke or whatever it did so, if you don't see me on here much, you'll know why. We are working on resolving the computer issue... hopefully soon.

The reason I can blog today is because my husband (bless his heart) is working in the frigid cold of the midwest prairie on a high, steep roof (bless his heart) clearing almost feet of snow in order to save a home from perpetual leakage by replacing the roof (bless his heart) and with numbed, frozen fingers, he will personally place all of the shingles he himself installs on that roof (bless his heart) and of all the houses in that neighborhood, those folks will have the best roof... and the only roof without snow on it all because of my husband (bless his heart) is working so dilligently in the cold today. I said all that to say that if he was not out working today, I would not be on this computer; he tends to not be so generous with his computer when he's home (bless his heart).

As for the kids these days, they are well. Alex enjoys the night time schedule of getting up every 2-3 hours and getting some one-on-one time with his mother. I was so tired one night, I unexpectedly fell asleep and then woke right after he unexpectedly fell out of bed. I was hoping that somehow that unexpected miss-hap would help him understand that his bed is truly the best bed to be in at night but, nope... he resumed his schedule 3 hours later. And yes, he was fine and showed not a mark from the unexpected tumble.

Janae is good. Busy as ever. All female. The wheel that keeps her brothers running... sometimes literally. (You'd run too if she bit you.) She is such a charmer at the same time. It's like having two extremes in one package; it's hard to seperate the equasion. The other day I found a little khaki A-line skirt I had stored away for her when she got a little taller. Well, the day came when she got a little taller so I had her try it on. It fit perfect. And she was as pleased as ever to get to wear it. Landon called her "Hannah Wissmann" for the rest of the day. I guess they both were pretty impressed with the "new look."

Landon is good too. He got to help Toby and some friends slaughter a cow/beef the other day. I was glad to stay home and thought I'd (fortunately) miss out on the excitement at the butcher shop. I should've known that Landon was going to be like a sponge soaking up each detail when he got up that morning and informed his dad that he was "ready to go shoot some cows." He has told me every detail, both little and big, about the whole process of slaughtering cows. And he's full of questions. Why do they have blood? Why didn't the gun have fire? Did the cow want to live?

Toby is also doing good. After his own computer gave him some issues to deal with, he is back on track with his internet work and the other computer work he has to get done in order to manage their business. The homeshow is looming ahead of us and promises a lot of excitement for the rest of the week. Toby usually manages the prep for the homeshow and his brother usually manages the actual homeshow itself. It works out well for them since the they can keep the regular business work running before and during the homeshow and yet still complete the necessary set-up and mantainance for the homeshow. I have always been impressed with how those two brothers seems to have unwritten rules and ways of automatically doing things.

For those of you that have called our house recently and got a strange recording of high decible UFO flying by, do not panic: it is just our fax machine kicking in uninvited before the friendly answering machine. We are working on resolving the issue. What I mean by "working on" is that I have told Toby about it for the past 2 months and he agrees he needs to change the fax setting. So, it should be resolved in the next month. Or two. Maybe.

The caller ID still works... except when we are already on the phone. If you call while I am in the middle of another call, I will not be able to see your name so therefore, may likely ignore your call due to the increased number of salesmen that call us on a daily basis. I think they got our number off the Do Not Call list. Seriously.

And, if you call at mealtime while we're on the phone, I will automatically assume you are a salesman so will usually 100% of the time ignore your call. So don't call at mealtime like our salesmen seem to do. Ever since the internet threatened to take leave from our house earlier this week, and even after having the technician come out twice, not 24 hours apart, this issue began with the phone. We will work on resolving this technical problem as well.

In a nutshell, we are all doing fine, it's just all these technically advanced components of our household seem to be experiencing a set back. I echo the words of my wise husband: "I hate technology." There, that feels better to get that out.

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As if to prove my point of technilogical errors, the spell check will not function on this post. I apologize for any misspellings and I assure you we are working on resolving this issue... hopefully soon.