What do I do all day?

Ah, the stay at home mom's favorite question! This week it was tentatively posed to me by a working mom who is at her wit's end with some of the habits her little one is picking up at the sitters and trying to keep the house in order after a long day's work. She certainly didn't mean anything by it, and I took no offense at it (though I certainly have in the past, when it hasn't been posed so politely).

I will say this...your house won't be any cleaner. Sure, you'll have lots more time to clean, but your kids will also be there a lot more time, messing it up faster than you can clean. You kids might not even be much more well behaved, because kids just naturally have bad habits and go through difficult stages, even when they aren't learning bad behavior from their daycare buddies.

At the very least, you don't have the whole "Am I neglecting my kids by putting them in daycare" guilt (You're not....but I don't know a single working mom that doesn't feel that guilt at some point). You also don't have the added pressure of whatever you have going on at work. You will be lonely and sometimes feel like your brain is rotting away.

So anyway, a look at one of my days. A monday....otherwise known as recover from the weekend (me and the house!) day.

7:50- Wake up because the phone is ringing. Hubby let me sleep in so I could sleep off some of my crabbiness from the weekend. Make my first cup of tea and sit on the couch drinking it, checking my e-mail and messages. Make sure Jordan is ready to go out the door for school.

8:30- Feed Ms. Celia the toast and raisins she is demanding. Walk around the house scooping up clothes and throwing them in the nearest hamper.

9:00- Commence my "how was your weekend" call with my best friend. She keeps me sane. We had a lot to talk about and I let Celia watch some cartoons (after all, she needs to recover form the weekend too). While on the phone I started putting away the clean laundry from Friday night's folding frenzy and realized Celia's drawers needed cleaned out. Took all the clothes out, got rid of the too small, too warm things and put everything back in, folded and neat.

9:30 Still talking on the phone, discover that Celia has found some orange drink and has poured it into her play kitchen pots. Quickly remove all orange drink from her area before she drinks from dusty pots or coats every surface of the house in orange stickiness. Get her a nice, cold, CLEAN sippy of juice.

9:45 Still on the phone (seriously, we had a lot of important ground to cover) take my seedlings outside for some sun. Discover that Celia has followed me onto the porch and is dancing around buck naked in the morning air. End phone conversation and drag naked toddler back into the house. Begin the dressing and hair fixing ritual of the day (her, not me).

10:00 Wash my face, brush my teeth, throw on some pants, tie a bandanna around my crazy hair.

10:05 - Escort toddler and all paraphernalia (her potty and new bulldozer bunnies, my gardening gear) outside. I decide to weed around the playset while she digs in the pea gravel.

10:07 - Run back inside for wipes and fresh pants for the girl as she informs me "Whoops, I peed!" Turns out she did a little more than pee.

10:10 - Round two of weeding and digging. She's bored with the bunnies and decides to color every patch of mommy yellow with dandelions.

10:20 - Realize that we are not wearing sunscreen. Honestly, I don't put it on us in the winter (like I should) so I'm not in the habit of doing it this spring. Back in the house for sunscreen.

10:30 - I've finished the playset area and move to the garden in progress. It's a thin strip of raised area on the other side of our unusable driveway. Last summer we tilled it up and let it become covered with weeds (great plan) so it's constant maintenance right now to keep the weeds from taking back over. By this time next year I hoped it's a beautiful weed free area of blooms!

10:35 - After fighting with Celia since she wants to come up with me (and trample the pumpkin shoots and daisies) I get her a bucket of water. She is entertained for awhile.

10:45 Move to new area that needs cleared for Clematis. Celia helps me dig a little there, then we dig up a huge anthill and evacuate.

11:00 - Back in the house for a snack. Chris's mom left us some brownie cupcakes with peanut butter chips. I get one for the baby and scarf down three before I come to my senses.

11:10 - Celia starts playing a complicated game with Raffie the Roboraptor and her duckies. I complete various piddly tasks like bill paying and working out Jordan's bug dental appointment next week. Also spend a good bit of time trying to figure out what's going on at Buchannon-Upshur high school as my friend is quite worried. Chris works in media so I'm the go-to source for breaking news, but he knows nothing in this case.

12:00 - Lunch time. Celia requests her favorite, peanut butter and pumpkin sandwich. I give her that and a bowl of applesauce and begin my whole "huffing, puffing, bleaching down the kitchen while cursing previous owners for painting cabinets white". I do this at least once a week. I need to stop blaming them as we've owned this house for seven years now. In any case, I'm plagued by fingerprints and various food smears and do my best to eradicate them.

12:30 - Scrape peanut butter from my little girl's face, send her on her way and resume the degermification process.

1:00 - Find the girl cuddling with Raffie (the large plastic dinosaur) and declare it to be naptime. Convince her that naps are good, that she does need one, that Dad really wants her to take one. Rock her and plop her sleepy butt in bed.

1:30 - Clean out the car while listening to see if she really is going to sleep. I had estimated the car wouldn't be too bad since I did the whole vacuum and wiped down thing two weeks ago....but it's filled with crumbs and mud. Nothing I can do about that today....and not much point in it anyway. Soccer season will do that to a car. Separate trash from toys and get it looking halfway respectable.

2:00 - Check on Celia, she is indeed sleeping soundly. Gather up old clothes I removed from her dresser and put them with the stuff to go to the Union Mission. Cart all 3 bags of donation stuff to the car....pray that I remember they are in there next time I drive past the box. Clean the upstairs bathroom.

2:15 - Check my mail and messages, start writing this blog. Get various reports of chaos from Buchannon, say a quick prayer that all is a hoax like the media is reporting.

2:40 Celia wakes up. I dash upstairs and convince her to go back to sleep. An hour is NOT a long enough nap. Back downstairs to get sidetracked by my Sudoku widget (give me a break, it's making me smarter!)

3:00 Celia is up yet again. I go up and lay down with her to try and get her back to sleep. I doze off, she does not. I wake to her trying to wiggle out of the bed. So we get up.

3:30 Jordan gets home. We all get on socks and shoes and go outside. I weed around the dogwood tree while the kids play in the pea gravel.

4:00 I whip together some ice tea base and lock the kids in so I can shower.

4:20 Desperately try to motivate Jordan into finding his soccer gear and getting it on.

4:40 Tell Jordan is he and all his soccer stuff is not in the car in 5 minutes I've leaving without him. Have a big fight about how he can possibly lose shin guards, why they are not where they are supposed to be, and how I'm not buying him a new pair. Wrestle him into my shin guard (which are entirely too big) and obsess about whether I look like a skank in my new tank top.

4:45 Leave to pick up a teammate (Jordan made the cut off) and get to soccer complex.

5:00 Soccer clinic starts. As a coach, I have to be there, but I don't have to do much. I chatter with another coach about how our teams are doing and try not to stare at the ruggedly cute soccer instructor.

5:30 Have a discussion with a parent about equal play time. (My fallback argument is "Well, when you fill out your forms next year, make sure you let them know you're willing to coach. They are always looking for good coaches." That usually shuts them up since no one wants to coach. They just want to gripe about the coach.)

6:00 Try and make sure each kid from my team has a parent there (it's a zoo), grab some soccer camp forms....try and make sure everyone knows when the next practice is (same darn time every week, which is SO confusing to some) and corral my two boys to the car.

6:30 Home. Whip up some biscuits to go with the casserole Hubby threw in the oven. Father in law stops by for a discussion about the bathroom remodeling. Celia is hungry and generally wreaking havoc.

6:40 Dinner. Ah. A few minutes of everyone sitting somewhere (after I remind them to plant their butts and not move until dinner is over) and eating (after a few reminders to zip the lip and eat some food). Discuss with Hubby what we're going to do about neighbor kids playing in our yard (when we aren't out there). We decide to get moving out that gate, ASAP.

7:00 Clean Celia up, find her some pants for our walk. Gather things I need to take to neighbor.

7:10 Just as we put on shoes, massive rain storm comes out of no where. Walk is cancelled.

7:30 Send Chris up to give Celia a bath, tell Jordan he better find those shin guards. Then explain how I am not amused as he digs them out from under a chair and dances around the living room, hooting at the top of his lungs. Grudgingly allow him a brownie (only because it means I get another one) and a few computer games. I (obviously) am working on this blog again. (After another game of Sudoku)

8:00 Can anyone say bedtime?

So there's my day. Probably quite boring to most of you, but now you know what I do. On a normal day.

Home again, home again.

Just got back from our weekend on the go.

Glade Springs Resort is a very nice place. Very posh. It would be a great vacation for someone with older kids (oh, and piles of $$, it's very spendy. Lucky for us most of the trip was covered). The have great trails for golf carts, bikes, rollerblades. They have a bowling alley, an awesome swimming pool. Basketball and tennis courts (both inside and out). There are several really neat scavenger hunts to go on. Several ponds for fishing, canoeing, or paddle boating.....and a stable.

Not the easiest place to corral a toddler for an entire day while daddy works. The staff was nice enough to let us have our room until 4 (unheard of!) so we could take several breaks in there during the day.

First thing this morning we hit the pool. I thought it was a great pool...my kids were somehow not overly impressed. I think Jordan was bummed that there were no other kids there (yeah, at 9 in the morning!). He wanted to sit in the hot tub, but I didn't want Celia in there (plus, well, he didn't need to be in there either). I'm not sure what her problem was....she's usually a little water dog, but we stayed only about an hour.

I think a good part of is was that she was really restless last night and woke up screaming at 3 with leg cramps. Thank goodness we had an end room and one of Chris's (very understanding) co-workers on the other side.

So on to the playground. One of the sheets the front desk gave me listed a toddler playground, but it wasn't on the map anywhere. Just the "Children's Playground". Jordan made himself right at home. Celia took of her sock and shoes, then peed. Pants honey! We take off our PANTS when we pee!

The emergency clothes were in MY car...we brought Chris's. I did have emergency panties in my purse so my toddler spent 20 minutes jumping around the playground in a sweater and Dora panties. Nice.

Then we went back to the room for a snack so Jordan and I marched the half naked marauder right through the resort lobby and up to the room for fresh pants. He provided great cover by running in ahead of us shouting "Nobody look at my sister. Do NOT look at her. She's not wearing pants. Look away, look away". Then he ran screaming for the elevator.

Way to keep things low key, son.

After a costume change we went off and had a great lunch at the Small Talk Cafe. They also had a whole case of yummy looking goodies that I planned to come back for later.

Then we went to the stables. We had no intentions of riding, just wanted to pet some horses. Again, the staff was super nice and told us that we could wander the barn and pat all we wanted, as long as we stayed out of Strawberry's stall. Strawberry had a little fight with the door earlier in the week and was dejectedly wearing a halter and lead while the door hung crooked. We avoided poor Strawberry but did get to give some hay to some other really nice horses. They had great variety, little ponies, super huge horses. All were very eager to munch some hay with their great big smacking horse lips.

Jordan now wants us to move onto a farm....Celia was equal parts terrified and thrilled.

Then I set the kids loose for an hour or roaming around the resort property, tried my best to keep them out of the line of fire from any golf balls. We found some "porcipines" (pinecones) rolled in the volleyball sand.

Cleaned everyone up and found dad, running late as usually. I politely informed him that the kids and I were leaving at 4:30 and recommended he wrap things up since it's a long walk home from Beckley.

Prompty at 4:30 everyone was buckled in and by 4:35 kids were snoozing while I chowed down on a very yummy brownie pecan pie concoction. It tasted just as good as it looked.

I'm exhausted from kid chasing, but other than Celia's two screaming episodes (she had another from Clarksburg to Fairmont. It was either "You made me wear a diaper in the car and I peed and now my butt is wet and I'm mad" or "the sun is shining in my face at a really bad angle so I want to kill you all") it was a decent trip. For the kids.

So much to say, so much to say...

All you Dave Mathews fans will now have that song stuck in your head all day. The rest of you (losers) will just see it as another blog title.

It's been a really long days, so I'm going to start at the beginning and hope to finish before I fall to sleep.

Jordan soccer team, The Red Hot Chilli Peppers had their second game of the season this morning. After our defeat last week, the boys were feeling a little nervous. I did some research on the team we were going to play against (read, asked little dude who played them last week what he thought of them) and found that they are still coming together as a team (read, we had a pretty good shot at beating them). I told the boys I wanted them to get in there and sneak a goal in right after the whistle......before the other team even knew what was going in.

To my surprise, it worked (I wasn't sure if that was a good thing to tell a bunch of little boys) and we went on to win the game. I'm not a big "WE MUST WIN" coach.....but after losing our first game I was really wanting to win this so the boys wouldn't get into an attitude of defeat for the whole season. Now that we've won a game, the pressure is off (no one wants to be that team that loses every game) and we can just play some soccer.

We had to drop one of the boys off after the game, then home to throw out stuff together for a little overnight get away. I had most of the stuff laid out, so we just had to load the car up. My MacBook is a great travel item as it doubles as a DVD player for trips, if we need it (I don't like to use it, but it was a 3 hour drive). I asked Jordan to get one of his movies and one of Celia and throw them in my purse....just in case.

So we all piled in the car and took off. I went right to sleep. It's better for everyone that way. Hubby drives like a maniac and me clutching the window and whimpering makes him very unhappy. That didn't last long....because Celia decided she was NOT going to nap. Odd for her, as she usually sleeps well in the car. She really wasn't too bad, but about 2.5 hours into the trip she had enough and wanted out! I dug through my purse for our emergency video...and guess what....it wasn't there. Never ask a 9 year old to complete a task that you REALLY want done. We ended up watching the same four goofy clips I have saved on my iMovie until we arrived.

Oh yeah...we did have one pit stop so Celia could pee in the weeds. Classic. I helped her (since Chris's technique gets pee on her pants) and the boys said we looked hilarious.

Which brings me up to our current destination..... Glade Springs Resort. It's very nice....definitely a fancy smancy place where I must keep my kids reigned in and not allow them to destroy things or act unruly.

I had already informed Chris that he was totally in charge of the kids (uh, mostly the little one who has missed her nap) from the instant we got here until he had to go to work at 8 (what, you thought this was some kind of vacation or something? Please. ) That worked out just GREAT since our reservation had not been made (thank you very much Fellowship of Christian Athletes) and I had to chase my little cyclone of terror around a very high class lobby filled with delicate glass tables, flower arrangements, and fountains for 25 minutes. We finally just ended up getting out own room (though that has been fixed now) and tried to take the kids to dinner.

We came in the room, Celia immediately stripped buck naked and jumped on the bed (in front of the open window) for five minutes while Jordan cruised the kid's channels on tv.

For some reason (off season?) only two of the five resort dining options were open for dinner....the sports bar and the "Up-scale Dining Facility....It Has a Dress Code". We obviously weren't going to take the two year old into anything upscale, so off we went to the sports bar with our kids for dinner.

The whole "Dad is in charge" thing didn't work out all that well. He let her crawl back and forth under the table (Ugh!) until food came, then got mad because she wouldn't stop crawling under the table. They had a big screaming (her) hissing (him) fight and I had to drag her out of there for a time out on the terrace. Which was a crap plan in itself because the terrace overlooking the golf course with all those funny dressed men driving little tiny cars was MUCH more appealing than the food inside. She much preferred just to stay in time out.

Unfortunately, my salmon was getting cold so I drug her back in. Lucky for me, this lady sat down right beside us wearing the ugliest hat (black ball cap covered in bling) so she sat staring at that while I gulped food. We got out of there fairly quick and went to check out the bowling facilities.

They were really nice! Very family oriented. Even the rich kids (who live on the resort, they are building lots of fancy houses all over the resort property...Chris is practically drooling over them) were very nice and helpful. Any time one of the toddler's balls (another family that Chris works with is here, their little girl is Celia's age) didn't make it down the lanes one of the boys would waddle down the gutters and give it a push. Pretty nice of them, I thought!

The girls quickly got tired of bowling, which left Jordan to bowl all the frames on the kids lane (everyone was happy with that scenario). Then back to the room.

A quick aside- I love Mac. I love iTunes. I love the free, fast, wireless internet here at Glade springs. In the time it took Chris to give Celia a bath, I found two Blues Clues cartoons and downloaded them. $1.99 for sanity that will never be left at home (in Celia's purse...some miscommunication there!) again.

Tomorrow Chris has to work all day. I'm meeting up with the other mommy and we're hitting the pool and the playground. We checked them both out before turning in for the night and they look REALLY nice. We're not talking 9x16 hotel pool here. This thing has a few swim lanes, sloped walk in (much more fun for toddler playing the the first three steps at any other pool). The play area looks great for the girls....Jordan will have fun anywhere. That kid is Mr. Go with the Flow.

He's also a self appointed travel critic. Very open with his opinion. When we got to the security booth and they didn't have our reservation, the guard let us in anyway. Jordan commented "Whew, we're lucky this isn't one of those really NICE places....they don't let ANYONE past without a reservation". He was also concerned about a few cracks in the marble in the lobby. He was very happy to learn that he got a bed all to himself (the beds are super high...we're afraid Celia will fall out so she's sleeping between Chris and I) and spent at least 5 minutes trying to stretch himself to reach all corners of the bed. He was pleased to discover he couldn't do it, proclaimed the place high class, and went to sleep.

Who Am I?

I swear I don't even know anymore.

A woman on the verge of some kind of breakdown, that's for sure.

Why? I have no freaking clue.

I just seem to have lost all identity of self. And where so I have this epiphany? In the middle of freaking Walmart!

You'd think I would be happy. Out of the house, without the kids, on some invented just for the purpose of taking a shower and leaving the house errand.

But no, instead I feel like some out of place alien being out in public without at least one child to attend to. See, when I have my kids out in public, I'm their mom. MOM....the one in charge. The one in control. She's handling everything, keeping everyone happy and behaving.

Without them I'm just some lady walking around Walmart telling herself to act normal.

In Walmart. Have you checked out the other people who are shopping in Walmart after 9 at night? I'm telling my self to act normal so THESE people won't think I'm weird? I don't even know these people....they certainly don't know me and I'm sure that they could care less that my makeup doesn't look good or my clothes are too snug because I'm getting chubby or that in my own head I'm chanting "BE NORMAL" so I don't break down and cry in the middle of Walmart for my lack of purpose in life.

When the heck did this happen?

Was is because I quit teaching?

I don't think so. I mean, I don't miss it. I'm not really in a hurry to go back. I just had a conversation with a friend today about how I'm glad I'm not teaching middle school anymore because so many parents are screwing up their kids and there's not a lot a public educator can do about it. So I'm very glad not to have that stress in my life right now. Plus I know I could not bear to leave my sweet baby girl to go back to work....and I know I want to be home every day to greet my exuberant boy as he rushes in the door from school.

Was it because we left the old church and started looking for something new?

I don't think that's it either. I mean, I was already on the fast road to a breakdown there anyway....just for different reasons. I didn't agree with a lot of the theology and we were just overwhelmed with responsibility, with no support to back us up. I'm kind of sad because it has effected my relationship with my best friend a little. We still talk every day....but I guess I didn't realize that both of us have been so busy in the past 9 months with home and church that the only times we've spent together WAS at church. And I miss spending that time with her. And since I'm not Miss. Popularity I don't really have any other friends....so I've been spending a lot of time just home alone with the kids. I'm becoming a regular agoraphobic hermit.

So that's part of it. I just don't have a lot of other adult interaction. I'm forgetting how to act among grown ups. And I feel completely out of place with them, like I just don't belong.

On the bright side, Hubby has informed me that sometime in June he will be able to take a day off work (to make up for his weeks of travel and inaccessibility) and spend it with me. Hopefully I can stave of complete meltdown until then.

All I ask is that if you're going to take odds on when and where I'll lose it, please send me a cut of your profits to pay the medical bills.

Baby Saying Big Words

Here's a video showing off my family at their best.

Celia is a little parrot who will repeat anything she hears, so we're taking advantage of it to get her to say some funny big words. Until she starts stripping off her pants.

Jordan is feeding the words to her and cackling like a hyena in the background.

Chris makes an appearance in the end to say "Hey, I don't think you were recording"

Umm, yeah, I was.

***NEWS FLASH***

CELIA POOPED IN THE POTTY.

ON HER OWN.

A REAL, HONEST TO GOODNESS POOP IN THE POTTY.

It's a great day.

Where's a Walmart When You Need It?

Yesterday Celia and I were gardening maniacs! We got the pumpkin patch all ready, weeded the back flower garden, weeded and planted the front gardens. It was a ton of work!

We also had to take a walk down the alley to find some "porcupines" (pinecones) for Celia to play with. She loves those things.

Anyway, we called Chris and asked him to stop at the new Walmart near his office on the way home and pick up some mulch. He came home at 5:45 empty-handed.

He couldn't find Walmart.

The enormous, huge, SuperWalmart that sits right off the interstate. Nowhere to be found.

So I sent him right back out to our Walmart for mulch. I NEEDED that stuff. I didn't want ot have to weed again in a few weeks.

He got there and called me to inform me that they were out of the Cypress mulch I had requested.

His first suggestion was the red mulch. (Ewww...NO, not the RED mulch)

So we settled on black mulch.



Turns out, I really like the black mulch! I think it looks really good next to my house. I hadn't noticed before, but the cypress mulch just kind of blended in...the black is a nice accent out front. I'll need to get more for the back gardens as I only mulched around my pumpkins.

Pumpkins, in action (well, not so much). Watch them grow and take root!



Here's my little tee-pea (ha ha ha, cracks me up everytime! Me and Jordan....) I built for the pea plants. The are slowly but surely climbing up the thing. I'll post a better picture on that soon. Ignore the gutter falling off my neighbor's garage.


Now that I have the front all mulched....I need to do something about the railings. They where white when we moved in....but needed repainting. I decided that they would look better black, so I started painting one black. Then I ran out of paint. And I quit.

So we have one white rail and one black rail. Very white trash tacky.



Chris thinks we should leave them, as a sign of how we don't care about color. One is white, one is black, and we love them both the same.

I think the black mulch settles it though. The railings need to be white.

I'm not being racist here. We have all this nice looking black mulch. We need white railings for a little diversity.

What do you think?

Oh, and can someone please tell all those dandelions that they have been sprayed, it's time to hurry up and die now?!?!

Riding the Wave of Productivity

We managed to get a ton of stuff done over the weekend, and I'm still getting stuff done today.

Saturday morning Jordan's soccer team (I'm coaching) had the first game of the season. The boys played really well and I was very proud of them. We lost the game, but most of their shots were luck shots....and I think we can avoid those next time.

Then we took the kids to Dairy Creme Corner (I'm sure I've blogged about this place...but I can't find it. So maybe I just thought about blogging about it. In any case, if you ever come through Fairmont you MUST go there) and got the kids some ice cream. Jordan can finally finish a small cone, and Celia was a glorious sticky mess after her baby cone.

We came home, put her down for nap, and Hubby and I commenced to attacking our overgrown, weed ridden yard.

Wouldn't you know it, that mower started right up for him. On the first pull. Stupid sexist piece of machinery.

He cut the grass, I did all the edging. Then...umm...I don't remember what happened. We did some other stuff outside that needed doing. Celia got up and we walked over to the football field and hit some golf balls....then some dinner and more yard work.

I chided hubby into helping me clear the spot of our soon to be pumpkin patch. He was not into the clearing of weeds thing, made a rather tactless comment that he has begged I not share. I glared at him and sent him to play Frisbee with the boy.

Celia is turning into a real helper in the garden. I gave her a bucket and her little watering can and she carefully watered every patch of dirt out there.

Sunday was church, more yard work. We had another bush to remove...I let hubby use the axe this time....I think he enjoyed it. Then we took the kids over to play in his parent's yard as ours had fertilizer on it. Put the kids to bed and put up some tile.

All in all, a pretty momentous weekend in our usually slovenly lives.

So today I did my best to stay on the wave. I did the whole "move all the furniture, roll up the rugs" mopping of the hardwood floors thing that only gets done about 4 times a year. Usually 3 of them during the spring/summer. There just something about beautiful warm weather that makes me want to throw open the windows, turn on the fans, and mop my floors.

Celia and I also planted some more seeds. Peppermint, Chamomile, Sage, and some Morning Glories. She watered our little baby pumpkin plants (yes, I know. I will most likely have pumpkins in August now....someone told me I should start them so I did. No big deal...we'll have pumpkin pie in August and I'll plant more for October). She's very cute and careful with her watering...and talks to each and every one as she makes she they get the right amount of water.



Oh yeah baby. Check out that pink tile on the wall and the brown linoleum floor. Trendy. I'm starting that room (on a much smaller scale) as soon as we finish the bathroom.

Also, will someone get that girl a ponytail holder already?

Tomorrow we hit the yard as soon as the boys are gone. Hopefully we'll get those pumpkins in the ground and plant my Clematis.

"Honey, Don't Stand Still Too Long...

....or your butt crack will get stuck shut."

Huh? This is what my husband says to me as I'm putting up tile in the bathroom (that's right, after 4 months we're FINALLY ready to tile the shower).

"Don't stand still too long or your butt crack will get stuck shut"

"What the heck are you talking about?" What the heck IS he talking about? This is just another example of my, working hard, and him, staring at my butt.

"Umm, you've got some of that white goop (mastic) right...well...on your butt crack. I don't want that to freeze shut on you."

Thank hon. Thanks. We should probably let everyone know this is a hazard of laying tile....butt crack adhesion.

He makes it sound like I'm laying tile in the nude....let me assure you I'M NOT!

I did make a very bad choice and wore my new black yoga pants....boy I hope that stuff comes out!

I did have him take some pictures of my butt...but honestly, it looked a little too fluffy to post on the internet. So use your imagination. And make it look good for goodness sake!

Anyway, here are some harmless pictures of us working in the bathroom.

Here I am, squished into a little corner of our little tiny bathroom (5x8). Take note of how I level up that bottom row if tile. That's right, a couple shims, some craft sticks. It's a new technique. I'm thinking of patenting it.



I got the bottom row on and straight and much of it up. My knees were getting stiff from being folded for suck a long time....plus Chris was itching to do something other than hand me tile. So I gave him a turn.




He quickly decided that he was "no good at spreading the goop" (his words, not mine). So I put the mastic on the wall and he stuck the tile up there.

Just like Celia and her stickers.

Die Mower, Die!

Is there anything more frustrating than a lawn mower that won't start? You push the little button to prime the engine exactly 3 times, just like it says. You pull the cord, and nothing.

Not a darn thing.

You pull and pull and pull and pull and pull.

And nothing.

So you push that button a few more times. Still nothing.

You drag your son out to help you hold the bar down while you pull the cord.

Still nothing.

That darn thing never did start. Even after I kicked it.

It did work just fine a few week ago. It had been parked on the porch all winter. Hubby decided he needed to start it "just to make sure it still worked."

While it was sitting on the foam puzzle mat for the playhouse.

Oh it worked alright. Chopped that mat right up.


Since I couldn't mow the lawn, I decided I would do things backward and try out my new trimmer.

My mom send me a gift card for a new trimmer. She told me how much she loved her electric one and after some discussion I decided that's what I would get. I was initially worried that the battery would die or make it weak, but she assured me it worked on her (huge, enormous, country) yard.

So I picked up this Black & Decker GrassHog Trimmer Edger. Fancy Fancy.

I've never actually used any kind of trimmer before....I was afraid of my father in law's....it requires a strange combination of oil and gas to run. Plus you have to knock the thing repeatedly against the ground to make the string come out. No thank you.

Now this new wondrous piece of yard equipment...the string feeds automatically. It comes with two little rechargeable batteries. Easy as pie.

I'm not great on planning in advance, so the battery didn't get fully charged before I yanked it off there to try the thing out.

It was so great! I love it! I got my whole backyard done (front yard has to wait until nap time tomorrow). Then I'm going to use that edger thing and edge everything. My walks, my gardens. Everything. My yard is going to be as neat and trim as the Catholic church up the street.

Once I get rid of all those stinkin' dandelions that is.

I also planted both my strawberry plants and my peas. I know, it's late. But we've been having some really un-spring like weather up here and I didn't want my little plants to freeze.

The strawberries....I'm not so emotionally attached to them. I bought a little box of plants at Lowes for 3.97. If they grow, great. If they don't....eh, we'll try next year.

But my peas....my baby peas that I've nurtured from seeds. The first seeds EVER to grow in my house into actual plants that could be planted in the ground. I'm so scared for them.

I built them a cute little tee-pea (get it?) with a bamboo and string trellis to climb up. Then I planted them out there and left them to fend for themselves. Wind, rain, hungry cats, grabby kids. It's just not safe out there. The backyard can be a very scary place for peas.

Playing Soccer with the Boys

There is just something about running around a soccer field with a pack on 9 year old boys to make you feel better about yourself.

We were a kid short of a real scrimmage so I had to play. It was kind of hard...to play my position and simulatiously coach the boys. Remembering which ones to play hard against and which ones to take it easy on. I've got to say, I don't really have to take it easy on many of them!

I should also probably wear shin guards if I'm playing with them. I have 3 (count them, 3!) knots on my legs. One on the back of my calf so shin guards wouldn't have done me much good on that one......

Anyhow....while my entire body aches from running that much when I'm kind of out of shape....for 45 minutes I didn't think about anything other than soccer.

And that was kind of nice.

Social Outcast

Have you ever had a dream so horrible that when you wake up, you feel like people looking at you must just know all about it?

I woke up this morning (after a mostly sleepless night anyway since Celia woke up a million times) from terrible dream. I still can't wear my contacts because my eyes are so dry and irritated. I got out of the shower and could barely squeeze into my jeans (due to the large amount of peanut m&m's I've been consuming in a feeble attempt to ease my emotional distress). Thank God for stretch denim and tunic shirts. My hair was also not cooperative.

Anyway, I somehow managed to get both kids out of the house fed, dressed, and with all necessary supplies for the day at 8:30 in the morning just so I could go to MOPS.....a messy haired, sleep deprived, bespectacled, my-butt-is-too-big-for-these-jeans, attempt to be a normal person for a few hours.

If the other mommies noticed, at least they were nice enough to say anything....but I spent the whole morning feeling like a complete social outcast.

This afternoon I just drag through the useless drudge of house cleaning and feel like a completely inadequate mom. Celia can't sleep either and has pretty much deteriorated into walking around the house crying for her dad (just like she did most of last night). Frankly, there's not a damn thing I can do to make her feel better. So we're just going to watch cartoons and cry until soccer practice...where I get to slip into the skin of a normal person once again and she gets to go play with a friend.

As a consolation, my therapist insists that I'm quite rational, sane, and normal. I'm thinking I should really have her write that one down next week.

The Best Way to Cook Bacon

After much research, I have discovered the very best way to cook bacon. Quick, easy, almost no clean up. And I'm going to share it with you. But first, will you look at these peas?



Something I planted from a seed is actually growing. Every year I plant a whole bunch of seeds. About half of the sprout, then get knocked over by a cat or die for some strange reason. You know, like I forget to water them for a week or water them so much that the only thing that can grow in that boggy mess is a crop of mold?

Anyway, my peas are growing really fast and my pumpkins are sprouting up nice too. I'm going to be brave and put the peas out in the ground this weekend.

Okay, moving on to bacon. The best way to cook bacon is in the oven! No greasy splatters all over your stove top, no bacon smell in the microwave. Plus it's pretty fast!

Start by preheating your oven to 425. Get a baking sheet with a nice rim, cover it in foil. Place you bacon on the sheet, be careful not to overlap.

Stick pan in the over for 10-14 minutes (depending on how crispy you like your bacon). Keep an eye on it. You should rotate the pan halfway through so that it cooks evenly. Remove the bacon from the pan and place it on a plate with paper towel (or McDonalds napkins, if you have run out of paper towels again but happen to have a pile of napkins left over from when you friend brought you ice cream in an effort to stave off complete emotional breakdown last night).

If you let the pan cool the grease will solidify, so you can just remove the foil sheet, grease and all, throw the whole mess away.

The recipe I found (which I'm not linking because it had several inconsistencies) says you can place several trays in the oven at the same time. Don't try this. I found it burned one pan to a smokey crisp and left the other way undercooked, even if you switch them around in the middle. The result is you ruin half a perfectly good pound of bacon and don't have enough for what you planned to do with it, so you have to just sit down and eat the rest of it all by yourself.

So stick with one pan at a time. Soon I'll share with you my super yummy crouton recipe and then you can make yourself a nice salad.

Playing with Scissors.

Look what I did this evening....


Oh, I know. I said I wouldn't do it. I said I was growing it out. It just needed a little trim around the edges. But once you get started, it's just so much fun!

And I didn't cut the shortest part on top hardly at all. So it really wasn't much more than a trim...it was just more of a trim than I had planned. Short hair is just so easy though...

I'm really going to grow it out this time though! Sister-in-law asked me (and the kids, but we're not talking about them here!) to be in here wedding. I'm pretty sure she would like to NOT have to explain to future friends "who the cross-dresser in the wedding party is". Maybe I'll just wear a wig. (Just kidding guys, I promise to behave and not do anything goofy at the wedding.)

My hair cutting technique would cause heart failure in any respectable stylist. I basically grab a hunk of hair, and start clipping away. Sometimes I even have to use my left hand (I'm definitely a righty). I just clip and clip away until I have the look I want, then I dust off and take a shower.

If you're going to cut your own hair, the bathroom is a great place to do it. It's easy to clean up, and it's close to the shower. It also has a door that shuts and keeps the kids from "helping".

There are two very important things that you MUST do if you choose to cut your own hair in the bathroom.

First, take the toothbrushes off the sink. Your family will thank you for this.

Second, pull the plug on the sink. You really don't want a bunch of hair in the drain. If you want to make clean-up easier, dry the sink first as well.

Here are a couple of pictures where you can kind of see the new 'do. While I may be able to cut hair in peace, I certainly can not take pictures in peace!

Chaos Ensues.

Thankfully, it stuck around for only an hour.

We had a pretty quiet evening. Mostly because Celia was way overtired and I plopped her butt in bed at 8:00 on the dot. Jordan was watching a movie, then went up to his room to play with Legos. I went up at 9:00 and helped him with his fluoride treatment and put him in bed.

I came downstairs and decided just to relax a little. M*A*S*H was on and I wanted to watch it again as I'm all nostalgic over it now. (As long as they keep showing the lighter ones!) I also decided to pig out a little. I made tea, had an English muffin, then decided I needed some snack mix. I went down to the basement (where I keep my huge stockpile of free stuff....I'll show it to you sometime when I'm feeling more friendly).

I get down there and notices that the corner is leaking again (big surprise, it only leaks when the ground is REALLY saturated....you know, like it is right now...) and a hissing.

My first freak out is natural gas. I had a nightmare about that around 3 weeks ago. That didn't last long as I didn't smell any natural gas (or anything, for that matter. Which is pretty funny since our basement usually smells like butt).

Then I realized that carbon monoxide was colorless and odorless! Ack! But that doesn't slowly eek out of a pipe....it's a combustion byproduct.

That leaves water. I figure out what pipe I think the hissing is coming from. It's not a heat pipe, I'm 99% sure it's not a gas line (just in case my sense of smell is all off, or the gas company figured that since prices went up they could no longer afford to make it stinky), but there is no water anywhere on that side of the basement.

I debate about it and decide to call my neighbor. I would hate for my house to blow up in the middle of the night after I kind of knew something was wrong and didn't do anything about it. He tells me he's on his way and I open the big door....which causes the alarm to beep (it beeps when any door or window is opened) and for some reason this wakes Celia up. (We open the door frequently after she's asleep and it usually never bothers her).

So I run up the steps and tell her to go back to sleep and back down to watch for the neighbor. She usually just needs a little "it's night, go back to sleep" and she settles right down. Not tonight. No sooner do my feet his the bottom step than she's fussing again. I peek in Jordan's room on the way past and see that he's still up, reading "The Hobbit" so I send him down to watch for the neighbor. I pat Celia for awhile and come back down, neighbor is here, and I send Jordan to bed.

We go down to the basement and friendly neighbor uses his pocket flashlight to trace the pipe behind a bookcase and through a wall to our Pittsburgh Potty.

Ours is actually an updated version. It was placed under the stairs for a little privacy (though only enough headroom for one of Jordan's hobbits to use) and a door was added. We gut us a fancy bathroom!

It's not been used since we have moved in. But it's there. In case of extreme emergency, it's there.

And now it's leaking.

Celia starts fussing again. I dart upstairs just long enough to implore her to go back to sleep.

Back down to the basement to find friendly neighbor wrestling with a rusty shut off valve. He manages to get it shut off and I send him on his way, with some of my peanut butter m&m's as payment.

Celia decides to fussy again, this time she has to go potty. I totally didn't intend on night training her, I'm completely happy leaving her in diapers overnight. But she isn't, so we get up, she pees. Then I rock her a little and put her back down.

Into Jordan's room to tell him that all the noise is over and he MUST go to sleep, since it's now 10:10 on a school night!

Now all that I've got to deal with is three very rambunctious cats (there was another person in the house AND he opened up a room in the basement that they were NOT allowed to explore).

And of course, my snack mix....which is what started this whole she-bang in the first place.

Don't Face Facts, Face Faith.

This was one of Pastor Crabtree's points from his sermon this morning. It really spoke to me.

The sermon itself was about running the race of faith, using Hebrews 12 as a focal point. Basically, know that there will be hardship in your life. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that becoming a Christian makes your life all sunshine and roses. Nowhere does it promise endless health until the day you die. Being a Christian doesn't mean you are handed a "get out of hardship free" card.

In our search for a new church, this is something I'm very happy to hear. I've been in churches before where it is preached how God hates cancer, he hates suffering. If you just pray hard enough, if you are faithful enough, then you will be healed. I don't buy it. I just don't. God doesn't just hand out hardship as a punishment. (Not saying that doesn't happen, but it is certainly not always the case). There is a reason for everything. Sometimes it's clear what that reason is. I'm sure you've seen someone of great faith struggle in body with a disease, though their heart never wavers from their faith...and by being a visual example of faith, others are led to believe. Sometimes it's not clear. Tragic things happen every day for which no man can see a reason. But it's there........

Some times hardship is a discipline. Not necessarily a "you've been a bad boy, get to your room" discipline.....much as an athlete much be disciplined to hone their skills. They must work hard every day, avoid food or drink that will harm their body or take away from it's performance. It's hard, but they aren't being punished. They are being trained for the race they have coming up.

It's a pretty clear parallel. Sin is what we've got to avoid...it's harmful to our soul. The hardship is a form of conditioning...of training. It gets us in shape for our race of faith.

Also, the alter call was very laid back today. I like that. I know as far as alter calls go your can't make everyone happy all of the time. Some people like to see an alter call every single week. I mean the big, "If you want to accept Christ in your life you've got to stand up RIGHT NOW and walk down here in the front, in front of all these people looking at you, DO IT" type of alter call (often followed by the call for all followers to stand and come forward if "You want to receive the blessings Christ has for you or something that you feel like you have to stand for because, hey, who doesn't want that.....but you also feel like a sheep just following along with the crowd when it happens week after week with no conviction from anyone. my apologies on this run-on aside).

Anyway, it was pretty much, "If you are ready to take this step of faith with us, please come up here after service. We have some alter workers who would love to speak with you. If you're a follower and you are feeling discouraged, like a runner in need of hydration, please come down and we have some people to pray with you." Very laid back. No pressure, just a we're here with open arms kind of call. I like it.

Sometimes I feel like the big pressure type of alter call is exclusionary. I worry that maybe someone was sitting there, feeling called to Christ. That they prayed and confessed. And they just can't stand up in from of all these strangers shout out that they did it. I don't think that they need to (some people need to....I think the call to Christ is different for everyone). And I worry that then they'll start to feel "Hey, maybe I'm not really a Christian. I mean, I prayed that prayer, and I felt it in my heart.....but I just couldn't stand up and walk down there. Maybe this really isn't for me. I know lots of people will argue with me about it and say that standing up is the least someone can do.....but I'm thinking baby steps here. Some people need that.

I, for one, would never be able to do that. I mean, I was raised a Christian, so it's not like I need to accept Him...he's always been a part of my life. But I know there are other quiet, non-demonstrative people life me out there.

Soooooo.....how this whole sermon pertains to me. Well, the word "discouraged" came up about a zillion times. And I think if there's one word that can truly describe how I've been feeling lately that would be it. Very discouraged. In fact, if I hadn't had to rush off to the childcare room to get Celia (she got upset last week when mommies started arriving and she couldn't see hers, so I wanted to be early), I may have very well gone forward.....just to have someone else pray with me...which is something I rarely do. I'm talking once before in my whole life...while I was in the midst of awful, debilitating morning sickness. A very sweet woman held my head and prayed with me...in the teacher's break room at the school where I worked. And it did help....I went from laying there just unable to move from being so sick and not getting any nutrition for week to being able to drag my butt through the rest of my day....which is sometimes all you can ask for.

Also, for the past month or so when I've been distinctly miserable, as I pour out my heart to one of my closest friends, the theme of my argument has been, "I just need to face the facts that this is how it's just going to be. I need to become accustomed to the fact that this is how it's going to be forever and learn to live with it. I knew good and well that just because hubby became family oriented for a year before and a few years after the wedding that really he's a fickle work-a-holic, who becomes obsessed with one project after another. Everyone once in awhile I will be that obsession, but for the most part it's something else and he becomes completely emotionally (and occasionally proximally) distant and unavailable. The sooner I accept that fact and get on with my life, the better for us all."

She (my friend) is not the least bit happy with that argument. She always has a suggestion, some of them I'll try, some I'm just to discouraged to see the point of them and don't bother wasting time with. This is why I always say how strong she is, and how much faith she has....it's just always there. So I'm going to try this week...to not bog myself down with those "facts" and have faith that it will change and get better (even though I can't fathom how, when, or why).

And I'm going to tackle the sin thing. It's got to be anger....because I really did think and I really did examine myself, and that's all I can find. So that has to be it. The hard part it, most of it's in my head. I'm not walking around kicking people in the leg, flipping people off on the interstate, or screaming at cashiers. Most of it is just the constant, angry diatribe that plays over and over in my own head.....disguising itself as rationality. Just the past week I've really starting being short with the kids and not having patience, so that's one outward thing I can work on....but the rest is all inside. So how do you tell the thoughts in our own head to "SHUT UP"?

Hop on Pop

Most wretched of days. Things are not going well on the home front.

I didn't sleep well last night. M*A*S*H came on last night and I thought, "Cool, my dad used to love this show! I remember watching it with him! It was funny!" Only last night the episode I chose to watch was not funny, but sad and disturbing (Episode 191: Dreams). I went to bed, slept little, and had freakish dreams when I did. First, jogging around downtown in just my bra. Second, strange, smiling children were at the door at night....worse yet I responded by barking, jumping, and growling at them like a mad dog, then would rip the door open to find no children there. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Then this morning I got to showcase my skills of crappy motherhood as I chased my out of control toddler around a church parking lot so Jordan could participate in a bike rodeo (bike safety). Said event culminated in us having to leave before he got to accept his rewards after Celia waked into a 6 inch deep mud bog before I could catch her (that fast little booger must have Olympic aspirations or something)...but not before I got to showcase my failure as a wife as well with my puffy eyes and snarky retorts on where Hubby was (Vegas) and what a shame it was I didn't go with him.

So basically, I suck as a mom, I suck as a wife. I have no real occupation right now (and the house is a perpetual mess) so I guess that makes me an all around loser.

Several good things to leave you with....

My peas a sprouting. Grow baby grow.

My father in law was here for awhile....we are going to lay some tile tomorrow. Yay for progress.

Lastly, a cute video of Celia "reading" Hop on Pop:

Neighbors...

...can't live next to them, can't afford to move to my own private island.

Okay, so we've owned this house for 10 years and not had any real problems with neighbors until now, so I don't really have much to gripe about.

Oh, we've had some little problems...teenagers from across the street being too loud at night. I did have call the cops once on their little domestic showdown in the front yard at 2 AM, but they were sufficiently frightened and have straightened up since then.

Most of the other people on our street are elderly and very nice. They have their moments (blaming us for actions of all stray cats, simply because we have cats) but since they are usually pretty nice I overlook that. Plus they are old and I feel they've earned the right to be crabby.

We have new neighbors across the alley from our backyard. I mentioned them once before and I'm still not sure about them.

Tuesday the little boy came and knocked on the door, wanting to know if he could come in and play with Jordan. I sent him away as we're potty training Celia and she was running around buck naked at the time. Plus I was really crabby (surprise!) and didn't want another kid in the house.

Ten minutes later the doorbell rings again. I go to answer the door and find another little boy, standing on my porch in shorts and a t-shirt (it was less than 50 degrees out) and his hand in his pants.

That's right. He had his hand in his pants.

Not like way down in there digging around some perverted way or anything....but his fingers were completely covered by waistband.

Plus he was only about 10...I don't think he was a pervert.

So I opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?" (Doh! Why did I say THAT? I certainly don't want to help!)

He replies, "I came to talk to you about one of your sons. He was messin' with my dog."

I respond (straining myself to NOT look at the hand) "Well, I only have one son, and he's standing right there (Jordan was being nibby and just about falling over himself to see who was here). He's been in the house since he came home from school. I can assure you he wasn't messing with your dog."

We then proceeded to discuss the phantom boy in a yellow toboggan that his sister had seen messin' with the dog for several minutes. He was polite and apologetic, but the whole the his hand stayed IN HIS PANTS!

Anyway, I briefly considered that the first little boy may have been the culprit, even though he wasn't wearing a yellow hat. But since I'm not exactly sure what "messin' with my dog" entails, I didn't rat the little guy out.

I mean, he does seem like an okay kid. And these tho kids live right next to each other. The kid with the dog...well I know I don't like them as I heard his family swearing at each other with they moved in last month. And that freaking dog does bark ALL of the time. So "messin' with the dog" may have been nothing more than the first kid walking through his own yard, yelling at the dog to shut up.

I don't know, and I'm staying out of it.

So yesterday, we had guitar. In my rush to get Jordan, his guitar, my panty clad toddler, everyone's snack, my tea, purse, and pile of ECB into the car I didn't get the big door shut all the way (we have a storm door that was closed). This happens pretty frequently (shhh, I know, I know, I need to lock the door. I know. Stop lecturing me.)

Chris beat us home by just a few minutes and found the nice (but persistent and irritating) little boy on our porch. We spent quite a few minutes wondering whether the kid had wandered through the house looking for us.

I hope he didn't. But I will be locking the door now. Just in case, you know?

Anyway, our big triumph of the week....Celia is wearing panties!

She's going really well staying dry...but she is still scared to poop in the potty. So she gets up early in the morning to poop (she still sleeps in diapers) on the sly. Whatever, she's wearing panties all day now.

It's another one of those bittersweet milestones. That cute little diaper butt was about all the "baby" she had left in her. She is very verbal and talks like a child. She runs like a child. She's got pretty hair like a big girl (or Goldilocks, which is what she thinks). She's not my baby anymore. It's breaking my heart.

Sniffle Sniff.

Well, I finally caught the cold that has been making it's rounds through everyone I know. I'm really hoping that it doesn't turn into some kind of antibiotic requiring infection. It's not looking good though as my ears are all stuffy and crackly. How ironic is that...I've never had an ear infection (to my knowledge) before this year. I already had a monsterous one in December....I'd rather not do it again.

Plus Chris leaves for Vegas tomorrow morning. Which means any visit to a doctor will likely come with chasing my toddler around the quick care center...as task that is quite likey to make me not go at all.

I have a ton of things I really ought to be doing today....but I'd much rather lay on the couch with my box of tissues and a book. I will probably guilt myself into getting moving shortly and working on the bathroom a little.

It doesn't help that even after my breakdown saturday night Chris really has only done the bare minimum around here. I told him that after the past 6 weeks I just don't know how I can get through one more week alone, that I'm completely overwhelmed, stressed out, and just over all miserable...and I was pretty much dismissed with a pat on the head and a half-hearted "Oh, you'll be fine" before he disappeared back to the void of our basement. Nothing like complete emotional detachment to prepare you for a week of being alone while your spouse lives it up in Vegas.

My therapist recommended that I plan something outside the house every day next week so I have a little adult interaction. I think I'm taking the kids to a bike rodeo on Saturday, and I think we should have a MOPS meeting thursday...so that's something.

I need to figure out a church to go to sunday morning....and now I need to figure out something for Wednesday night. I decided after last night debacle that we would now being going back to the old church.

There hasn't been a teacher for the boy's class for the past two weeks. Last night my friend took them and taught them....but she already is responsible for making sure there are volunteers for the little kid's rooms on sunday morning (more than half the time the schedule workers just don't show up). She's also had an increasing role on the praise team since Chris and I left....so now she didn't her her one chance to actually sit in church (with her husband, who also does much of the media stuff) for our marriage class. She's stressed out, and I'm stressed out for her. I mean, there's nothing I can do about it...I tried talking to the leadership when I was an active member and on the praise team and that didn't do any good....so it's certainly not going to do any good for me to say something now. Anyway, we left the church because it was sucking the life out of me. I can't keep going every week (because as I've mentioned before, the marriage class is doing crap for us when I'm the only one going to it) at watch it sucking the life from my best friend. She's a big girl (and a much stronger, more kind, and faithful woman than I) and will take care of it herself.

Anyway, Jordan is a little social glutton and loves being with a group of boys on wednesday night....so I feel like I have to find something to replace that with.

Celia has lost all patience with mommy typing away on the computer, so I'm going to go and let her climb, jump and waller all over me. I'll be back to rant about my neighbors ('cause that's the kind of mood I'm in today) and share out potty training success.

Infatuation

Spring is in the air and love is floating around. We've all discovered new found love in some interesting places.



Celia has a serious ducky addiction. She's always loved her ducks, but at an Easter egg hunt this past weekend they hid some little ducks with eggs. She was perfectly content plucking brightly colored eggs in her basket, but once she saw those ducks it was all over. Her eyes got all big and she screamed "Duckies mama, duckies! All the duckies I could ever need! Duckies!" She abandoned all efforts at getting eggs and began scooping up ducks like there was no tomorrow. No other toddler even had a chance at getting a duck, she snatched them all up. In the effort of sharing, we did let everyone pick a duck from her baskets who didn't get one (we still brought home around 10-15 little Easter ducks).



Add those to our already fleet of ducks and you have a regular ducky army. The big ducks usually reside in the bathroom as we allow those in the tub...but the little ones roam the house at will. I don't let them in the tub because they don't drain well and get all nasty inside. The big ducks all have names like: Ivory, Magenta, Violet, Peachy (she's the favorite). You'll also see George in the back. George is an honorary duck. He's really a big blowfish that terrified her for the first two weeks of his existence (she dropped him and ran when she pulled him out of her stocking at her grandparents house and for two weeks demanded "Take him out the tub. He's scarin' my ducks"). She now loves him and treats him just like he's a duck.



Her second love is not necessarily a new love. She's always had a taste for chocolate. But since Easter she's discovered how great it is to sit with a small plastic egg of pastel M&Ms. This is Easter morning....yes, she's wearing several pairs of new panties over her pajamas. The bunny brought them and she was very eager to wear them.



Jordan is in love with his new iPod. If he had his way, he's listen to it all of the time. But mom won't let him take it to school, church, or during dinner. That does leave a lot extra listening time though!

My current new infatuation is CVS. I love that place. I bought some make-up last week, which totally does not work for me. I also accidentally threw away the receipt.

My favorite manager took it back, no problems at all. He was more than happy to do so. I would say that I've got a crush on him, but I honestly can't remember what the man looks like (I do remember he is normal looking, slightly attractive...I would remember a 3rd eye or snaggled teeth). What I do remember is any time I've had to deal with him he is so sweet, polite, accommodating, and basically gets me whatever I need. I don't really want to know him any more than that...because that's obviously a fallacy I'd like to keep intact.

So they took the make-up back, gave me some money. Which I re-invested in items that will give me more Extra Care Bucks. (I didn't actually pay for the make-up in the first place, I used some ECB from the last deal they had). Basically at the end of the month I will have 5 bottles of Listerine, 5 really cool looking Oral B Sonic toothbrushes, 5 Softsoap body washes, 5 tubes of Crest Natural Expessions toothpaste, some Aleve and Excedrin. None of it will cost me any money. (Most will get donated to charity or given away to friends, we have so much of this stuff already and things like toothpaste do expire. Let me know if you want some!). I'll also have a boatload of ECB to spend next month on whatever they are offering. Plus I always need to get a few extra things to get me up to the total ECB I have so I can shop around for other useless stuff (like Easter clearance). It's a total shopping high which costs me no money.

If you want to figure out how to get started on these ECB deals, e-mail me and I'll try to help. Better yet, visit the CVS forum at families.com. That's where I get all my information and the ladies there are amazing about finding deals and sharing them with the world!

Why we have a home security system....

It's been requested that I share this story....because honestly...it is pretty funny. Now.

We own a very nice home security system. It's an anomaly really, in our quiet, safe little town. Lots of people around here still don't lock their doors. But we now have a very nifty home security system, complete with a motion detector that the cats can set off if the band together in some rambunctious kitty playtime.

About 4 years ago, my new husband woke me up in the middle of the night (again) asking me "Did you hear that? What's that noise". He does this at least twice a week, so I told him to leave me alone and go back to sleep.

He doesn't let up though. "Seriously, did you shut our bedroom door? Or turn off the light in the family room?"

Well now, I had to think about it.....because I did have a few brief sleepwalking episodes as a youth...but no, I was pretty sure I hadn't done any of that. Jordan has always been a little skittish in the dark, so we leave a light on in the family room for him. And we never sleep with the bedroom door shut.

So now I'm awake and Chris tells me to listen. Really listen. And sure enough, we heard some rustling. Which could be those stupid cats, but then we hear some drawers opening and shutting. Which is not the cats. (Even the one with the thumbs hasn't mastered opening drawers).

We go into panic mode. I tell Chris to dial 911 and I tiptoe/run through the family room to grab Jordan. He was amazingly well behaved through the whole event. I grabbed him and had him in our bed before he was hardly awake. We whispered to him "Don't make any noise...there's a bad guy in the house!" He burrowed under the covers and didn't make a peep.

Chris whispered to me that the operator was sending police. We can still hear noises coming from downstairs, so I grab the most dangerous thing we own (a Maglite!) and creep to the door at the top of the stairs. I slowly pull the door shut.....but no way am I letting go of that doorknob. I've got the doorknob in one hand and a Maglite hefted over my shoulder in the other. I'm also trying hard not to hyperventilate and praying harder than I ever have in my entire life.

Both boys are on the bed, peering at me. Chris is still on the phone with 911, but we hear the cops arrive and he hangs up (because that's what you do when help is here).

We can hear the police start shouting "Sir, do you live here? Stop where you are, put you hands where we can see them."

Then the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. Chris is freaking out and telling me to get back in the bedroom as he's going to barricade the door, but I'm just frozen there....me and my Maglite, holding the door at the top of the stairs shut.

I hiss at him to call 911 again, and he does....while dragging a dresser over and blocking himself and the boy in the bedroom. The operator informs him that she is sending backup.

Backup? That's not exactly what I want to hear!

Now we can't hear anything from downstairs. Just silence, forever.

Then footsteps on the stairs. Heavy footsteps. And panting.

So when I said I was hyperventilating and praying before....yeah...more of that again.

Eventually this person gets to the other side of my door. He knocks and calls out "Police, are you all okay? Open the door."

I (not so politely) respond "slide you ID under the door."

We then proceed to have an insane conversation that police are not allowed to carry ID, that I should really open the door for him, and I'm telling him that's not going to happen anytime soon.

Finally, this man (who does happen to be a cop) sighed and says "Ma'am, I took a shot of pepper spray to the face and I'm going to go outside and throw up now. I'll send someone else up to check on you and your family"

He does send up another very nice officer, and we creep out of our upstairs. We call Chris's parents, who are here in no time. None of us can be downstairs for any amount of time because just the pepper spray fumes from the officer's clothing make us cough and gag. They have us come out on the porch to see if we know the intruder (we do not) and I apologize to the poor officer who's just finished puking in the bushes. We find out later his arm was broken in the struggle (and most of the pins and badges from his uniform are lost forever under our porch).

The miscreant that they caught was just going out the back door when the police arrived. He had my son's backpack (homework included) slung over one shoulder and our bucket of spare change in the other arm. Into the backpack he had thrown an array of stuff including: social security cards, Chris's passport, Chris's wallet, power screwdriver, wrenches and other assorted tools, trumpet mouthpieces (?!?), and our video camera.

Turns out this guy is a registered sex offender. Before we woke up, he had been in our bedroom and most likely in our son's room. I really think that God kept our family safe that night....because we had the best possible outcome of a very scary situation.

So there you have it. Now when my husband wakes me up at night with his breathless "Did you hear that, What was that noise" I do at least give a little listen before I tell him to let me sleep.

The story is really much more funny if you have us tell it in person...because we're the crazy kind of couple that like to demonstrate much of the action. Invite us to your next party, we'll provide the entertainment.

Help Wanted!

Well, I came to the shocking realization last night that Chris will be leaving THIS FRIDAY for Vegas. Just 5 short days from now.

I really thought I had more time...at least another week to try and recover from this marathon of work he's had going on recently.

But no, it's coming up amazingly fast...and I'm not sure how I'm going to get through it.

I know how silly that sounds...I mean, what's one more week. For the past 6 weeks his schedule has been crazy with projects and travel...so really, one more week shouldn't be that bad.

But it is. First off, I'm just incredibly run down and stressed out by this point. Second, he's all the way across the freakin' country this time. Third...well, it's Vegas and I kind of wanted to go. We say every year I'm going, but it never seems to work out that way, and this year that plan fell through the cracks again. Which isn't that big of a deal. One day out children will be grown and on their own and we'll have money to travel, so I'll go to Vegas then.

But I want a break now! Not necessarily a cushy vacation (though a week at the Bellagio sure would be nice) just a break.

So I've decided what I need to get me through the week is a companion. Not that kind of companion....get your mind out of the gutter!

I need a lady to come stay with me.....keep me company! Help me out around here!

Preferably a foreign lady with a cool accent. (I love accents, they just cheer me up so much). Not some scary German, Russian, or French accent...those are a little too intimidating. Someone with a light Spanish or British accent. Heck, I'd even settle for a Canadian or a southerner. But an accent is required.

She should be willing to help out with the house work. Not do it all of course, but we could talk and fold laundry....we could stand in the kitchen and I would cook, she would clean up (because while I love to cook, I do hate the clean up).

She should also be a little older and more knowledgeable than me so I won't have to take frequent computer breaks to Google all these things I don't know how to do (which is a trap. one quick search, a check of my e-mail, my site meter, message boards.....the Internet is a bottomless pit of time wasting!)

After I put the kids in bed we could watch a movie, maybe scrapbook a little...chat about stupid stuff.

She should enjoy tea, with cream. Just like me. That's really a kindred spirit thing......

She could bring a few books she loves with her and let me read them. I'm all out of new stuff. (I'm more than willing to share mine with her...)

Do you know anyone like that? Tell her I'm in the market for some good (free) help.

How to Save a Life

Become a bone marrow donor.

Yes, it's a big deal. I know, it's a little scary. But you really can save the life of someone's child, someone's mother, someone's father.....or maybe even that nice old guy that lives down the street. Possibly even that crabby old lady that you don't really like, but certainly don't want her to die.

Someone like baby Trevor.

Are you fired up? Are you ready to do it? Good! Visit the National Marrow Donor Program and sign right up. They're going to ask you some pretty personal information. If you're not comfortable giving that kind of information out online, then you can search for a donor center near you.

After you tell them all about yourself, they will send you a nifty little packet where you swab your cheek, send in some cells......and probably never hear from them again.

But on that off chance that you do match with someone, it could save their life.

Unfortunately, the testing does cost a little. $52 actually. But every once in awhile they will offer a promotional code in hopes of quickly matching someone who REALLY needs a donor.

So now is the time. Use this code: G02207 and they will waive they processing fee. Somewhere, some really nice person or organization is willing to pony up $52 to test YOU and see if you match with someone in need.

All is Not Lost

There is hope for the next generation. I'd like to direct your attention to a little gem of a song I heard when listening to commercial radio yesterday (my favorite cd was gone...)

Cupid's Chokehold by Gym Class Heroes

I liked the song a lot better before I started blogging about it and watched the video (I honestly haven't turned on MTV in....well, it's been a really long time.

Because at first I thought the whole song was about the same girl. I'm not sure how they refrain fits with the verses...I think they just really liked that Supertramp song and stuck it in there.

So all through the song he talks about nice traits of his girlfriend(s) and they are totally normal things. She takes care of him, cooks him good food, loves his band's music, she's got beautiful eyes, gorgeous skin, and a great laugh. Not once does he mention any slang terms for hot sex, a big butt, or bouncing breasts.

It's almost ....sweet. In an alternative hip-hop kind of way.

Now the video....I discover it's really a string of girlfriends...and it does show a few more seductive scenes....but really, it's innocent and demure in comparison to the other crap that's out there!


I already know this post is probably going to bring some nasty losers to my page. I can deal with that....because I'm already bringing in some pretty weird people. Some of my personal favorite google searches that lead people here are:

Brick House Mamas Butts (How dare you!)

Blackberry Frustration Marriage (In my defense, those words are not all combined in the same post on MY page....but I can see how you might be searching for some help there!)

Toddler dealing with anger and peeing (Whoa, get that kid some therapy!)

What is pepperoni skin (you really don't want to know, stop searching while you're ahead)

and finally...

Guitars - Helping Ugly People Get Laid For 50 Years (hmmm, I don't even know what to say to you!)