Reasons Not to Open the Door to Strangers

1. They might wreck up your lamps and ruin your throw pillows.


2. They might use up all your detangling spray.


3. They might steal your baby.

These were the reasons Kathryn gave when we reviewed the dangers this week. I think she is finally getting it.

We have just returned from her preschool apple orchard field trip where we "such had a swell time!"

(I just noticed the yellow jacket fixin' to dive bomb her head. Luckily it did not. I was almost embarrassed to take any pictures as I did not want to look like the couple of paparazzi-ish parents who had lenses up their children's noses practically trying to document their every reaction. It was ridiculous and I was embarrassed FOR them!)

p.s. Amy was not at this event. =)

Psalm 38:9

"All my longings lie open before you, O Lord;
my sighing is not hidden from you."

Updates for a Girl Named Amy

• There was a girl named Amy. I used her to gain access to a boy named Toby who was a friend of her family's and with whom I was quite smitten. It was rotten of me, but the means justified the end...or the end justified the means. That was 20 years ago this past May. Twenty stinkin' years! Longer than both of our marriages combined. At least that is what she told me today, let me do the math...yes, she was right. We are thinking we might throw ourselves a party or take a cruise for our 25th anniversary.
• FYI: My infatuation with the aforementioned fella was short-lived, but he did prove himself useful years later when by chance (or not?) he happened to be second on the scene of rollover car accident I had been in and got to be the lucky one to notify my family.
  
• Two weeks ago this weekend, Amy and I had a scrapbooking weekend at her house, from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon. Our groovy husbands had all of our kids, mine at home, hers took the children and went to stay with his sister 2 hours away. Our friend Diane was able to join us for part of the time as well. It was wicked fun and just what we all needed. We relaxed, ate lots of good food, giggled like school girls, had very good conversations that included only minimal gossip, and slept in the same bed for the first time in yeeeeeeeears because she no longer snores, hallelujah! Oh, and we both got 20 pages done!
  
• Let's see, what else did she want me to share...
• Oh yes, today we met and drove down to meet baby Adam, son of Liane and Keith, for the first time. He was preciouser than his pictures and I wanted to inhale him. How quickly a mother forgets how tiny and soft and sleepy they are those first few weeks. He was dwarfed by the likes of David and his giant melon head.
  
• Afterward, Amy and I stopped at a huge Salvation Army nearby where she found me the sweetest vintage hook-up ever, but sadly I didn't have $157 to purchase all the pieces, nor did she. Of course I am exaggerating, but their prices were outrageous! Anyway, it was a crispy (and I mean CRIS-PY) brand new pair of authentic, dark wash Jordache jeans, complete with creases pressed down the legs, horsehead on the coin pocket up front, little metal tag on the other front pocket, the burgundy patch on the hock pocket, and white decorative top-stitching by the yard. A pair of denhim slacks just such as these had been the object of my fixation in the 4th grade. If I could have owned a pair, even if I never wore them, the course of my life very well may have been altered and drastically. But as if that were not enough, she also found a pair of hot pink and chartreuse Kangaroo sneakers, also the love of '82-'83 school year, though I was fortunate enough to own a conservative and sneaky pair of gray ones myself back in the day. Anyway, we had yet another good laugh as we were reminded that we are both hopeless dorks, but that we both get each other's humor...among many other things.
• Oh and this morning at 7:21 she called to see if I wanted her to pack me a lunch so we didn't have to spend money on unhealthy food out. And once on the road she offered me one of her cold water bottles so I didn't have to drink the hot one I had brought for myself. She also offered me the heel of her sandwich that she was too full to eat. I accepted the former, gratefully, but declined the latter.
• She did tell me my van smelled like curry powder, but I love this girl called Amy and I hope we can be friends for at least another 20 years.

• 

Celebrity Schelebrity

I gave in and gave it a try in the wee hours of this morn at Amy's.

I had already scrubbed up for the night and had my hair up in a clip when I snapped a quick photo for my first attempt.

After my #1 look-alike came up as O.J. Simpson, and I am not even joking, I decided to re-apply some rouge real quick-like to brighten my countenance and give it another try.

I never realized how much I do resemble Keith Urban.

Click here to view the foolishness.

For the Record

I never did stick a fork in my eye. Not last year, and not last month.

Tomorrow did come and it was a better day.

My mom was right.

ADD

I seem to be suffering from an unusually long and bad bout of attention deficit disorder these days. School starting has been a breath of fresh air, but it has also broken my day into 25 minute blocks that have exacerbated my condition (ADD) greatly in some ways. I feel like I am doing approximately 47 things at the same time and always only have 7 minutes till I need to be out the door and on my way to the next thing...picking up, dropping off, meeting here, taking there...and my kids are still young. I shutter to think how much worse it will get before it gets better.

But I love it.

I find I am more productive with more time constraints and deadlines. And I love being available for my children. Most days.

I would love to make a blog post again someday as well. I have not been lacking topics to cover, only the time and the ability to sit still long enough to get them out of my tired head and onto the computer screen. And I need a new computer. Badly. Oh so badly.

So this is my update for now. We are doing well. Jeff's mom is home, encouraged, and improving. I will post more on that as soon as possible. Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts.

And here is David's latest discovery...

Forks and Crap

About a year ago I wrote a post about wanting to stick a fork in my eye. I would link this post to that one, but I'm too tired. It has been another one of those days. Jeff is out making an ice cream run for me while I cook up some hot fudge. To heck with healthy choices. A good helping or two, or three, should put things right into perspective.

And tomorrow's another day. That is one piece of my mother's advice which has endured the test of time and one which I actually live by. Daily. Selah.

Rise and Shine

More morning Bible reading, please!

Lightening Up

It is okay if your son whose hair you first had trimmed at three weeks of age and you have continued to groom obsessively and often now wants to grow it long. Over his ears even. It is okay.

It is okay if he doesn't think the super fast running shoes that you think would be the ideal school shoes are cool. For three years in a row.

It is okay if your daughters whose hair is finally long enough to braid and wear in a variety of cute accessories now both want Dorothy Hamil do's right before school starts.

It is okay to let your older daughter pack her own suitcase from time to time.

It is okay if your smaller daughter, out of a closet full of darling garments, chooses to wear a large t-shirt so long it covers her shorts, with socks, with Crocs (fake black ones), out for a day of shopping with her hair clean and combed, but down.

It probably not very nice, but it is also okay if your son tells her she looks like she doesn't belong in our family on said outing.

These are lessons I have learned lately.

Small, but huge. Let kids be kids. Let them be themselves. Let them make some decisions and live with them.

And above all...lighten the heck UP!

Passing the Buck

A dollar just doesn't go as far as it used to.

Bedtime is still stressful around this house. Andrew has gotten worlds easier, FINALLY, especially after we moved to this house. Kathryn never was difficult. Most nights, once she is actually IN bed, she falls to sleep within minutes and almost NEVER gets up or complains about anything. David is a baby, so he poses baby-like challenges, but he is manageable more than the majority of the time. Hmm, that leaves just one. And her name isn't Jeff. Sheesh.

I love this girl, but DANG she can be difficult, and I guess in this way she is her mother's daughter. Nothing is ever quite right. The temperature, the direction of the fan, the direction of the wind, the music, the lunar activity...I said prayers while standing on the bunk ladder when she wanted me to be lying down with her. I didn't kiss her. I didn't look at her when I kissed her. She didn't want a kiss, but I kissed her anyway. I left the room without officially saying "goodnight" in the proper tone of voice.

Okay, it isn't ALWAYS that bad and I don't mean to imply that I always strive to meet her every demand at bedtime either. Lots of times they go ignored entirely. But one common demand, or at least request, is that she sleep somewhere other than her own bed. She is very creative and persuasive in her arguments almost every single night of the week. And every night she asks, the answer is the same. Why won't she just give up?

So last night she still had a half hour until her designated time, but I began mentally preparing her, trying to face most of the obstacles before actually entering her bedroom. I don't usually resort to bribery tactics, but in desperation I suggested that if she would consistently go to bed without complaining, specifically NOT asking to sleep anywhere but in her bed, for seven consecutive nights I would give her a dollar.

Her first response was, "Why would you give me free money when you are always saying you don't have enough of it? That doesn't make ANY sense!"

I explained that I would be delighted to cough up a buck if she would comply with my request, but that there would be no bonus after the introductory offer. I told her it was just a challenge to see if she could really do it. I thought this might entice her.

Her next argument was, "What if Andrew and Kathryn find out about it and get upset that they aren't getting a dollar too?" I softly assured her it would be our secret.

She pondered the proposal briefly before her face lit up and she began to whisper back the details as if to go over the fine print before signing her name on the dotted line.

"So, if I go to bed without complaining...for a whole week...you will give me one dollar...and you won't tell Andrew OR Kathryn?" Her eyes sparkled.

"Yes!!!!!" I whispered.

"I don't want to do that though," she murmured with a frown.

"WHY NOT?!" I asked out loud.

"Because that is for SEVEN nights and it is for just ONE dollar."

I briefly considered upping the ante just to see how much she WOULD be willing to do it for, but I did not.

What kind of world do we live in where a 7 year old can't be bribed with a buck any more?

We'll keep working on it.

With no cash incentives.

And shame be upon me for even attempting to buy her good behavior.

Negative Deficit

When you are lacking time and imagination to draft a new post for your stale, moldy blog, but you aren't quite ready to throw it out with last week's pitas, you can always resort to dissing some old geezer from yesteryear.

Yesterday I heard the name "Abba Data", the name of a networking firm in the area, and my thoughts returned to the days when I served as a trustee representing my township on the district library board. Oh those grand and glorious wonder years, oh to be 25 again. Actually, I was more like 27-29, but anyway...

I could have written a book, or a least an entire blog, on the characters that represented the other 5 rural townships and the actual village in which the library was located. Holy smokes. First of all, the median age of the board members was 127. And I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of the members had never left the state of Michigan. In fairness, there were a couple sharper individuals as well. One was the wife of the town dentist and the other was a high school English teacher. Regardless, the meetings were long and intense. Far too intense for a library that serviced fewer than 1500 card-holding patrons per year. But the budget was tight, if not completely blown most months, so we were constantly reviewing expenses and proposing new ways to save money without limiting services.

Should the pages have to clock out to use the toilet? Should they receive a 5 cent raise, or no raise at all this year? Could the library save money by offering dial-up internet service rather than highspeed? And why was it even necessary to offer computer usage in the first place?

Abba Data might have been able to offer some helpful cost-saving solutions if anyone on the board could have pronounced it properly. Abba Dabba is how it came out most of the time, especially from the lips of the elderly interim chairperson who we will call "Ron", not to protect his identity, but because I can't rightly recollect his real name. He would say the funniest things. I wish I could remember more.

Anyhoo, in one heated discussion he pounded the table emphatically stating that this library could not continue operating on a negative deficit. =)

And it didn't have to. One of the main objectives while I was on board was to pass a tax millage increase to generate more funding for operational expenses as well as a brand new facility. It passed by a wide margin the summer after my term expired and the project was completed the summer before we moved from the area.

Oh, I just remembered his name was Dan.

Hungry

You know it is time limit the television consumption of your four year old when she tells you she is "hungry to watch TV" and upon request for clarification you realize she did actually literally mean she was hungering for more television.

Update

Friday's appointment to the oncologist brought the news we were all dreading, but were somewhat prepared to hear: Six to twelve months, with chemotherapy...Six to twelve months, without.

The cancer which just six weeks earlier was "caught early" and was "very operable" was in fact not either of the above. It has apparently been aggressively and viciously advancing, silently, for who knows how long. She first experienced difficulty swallowing and an odd sensation in her chest at the end of April. She saw her doctor in early May. Some other tests were done first to rule out her thyroid, before proceeding with GI testing which led to the discovery of the suspicious growth in her esophagus in mid-June. Days later it was determined to be cancerous. The rest of the time since has been spent getting tests needed in preparation for her upcoming treatment and surgery. And waiting. And waiting. Those of you who are at all familiar with this process know, far better than we could have ever imagined, that this is the name of the game. Waiting for this test to be done, waiting for those results to take to the next appointment which won't be tomorrow, but 2 weeks from tomorrow, to know what the next step MIGHT be.

She had been counting down the days, 16 of them to be exact, until her surgical consultation, which was then just a day away, when she received a phone call saying that she did not need to come to that appointment because there wasn't going to be any surgery. Her latest test results showed her cancer to be inoperable. It had gone from Stage III to IV with the discovery that it had spread to her stomach, to her liver, to a single rib, and to distant lymph nodes.

This was last Wednesday. Friday she saw the oncologist. Sunday she and Jeff's dad flew to San Diego. Monday they crossed the border and are currently in Mexico where she will be receiving treatment at a biomedical hospital for the next three weeks.

They feel cautiously optimistic and encouraged and we already have wonderful stories to tell of support from strangers and answers to prayer.

Thank you for those of you who have offered them on her behalf and on the behalf of our family.
Please don't stop. And I'll keep you posted.

Hear My Cry, O Lord...

This isn't about mice. And it isn't about my children. It's about my mother-in-law.

It was dreadful enough to hear the C word in the same sentence with our loved one for the first time six weeks ago. That would be cancer, esophageal cancer to be exact. The initial report was optimistic, but the reality of the findings since has not been consistent with that hope. Each doctor visit and test result has yielded worse results than the last until, just today, we arrived at nearly the worst case scenario.

Naturally speaking, there is not much reason for hope.

If you are not inclined to pray for divine healing, please pray for comfort, and patience, and wisdom, and peace as life and death decisions are made and we all await the outcome of those decisions.

Her name is Sharon. She is 61. She has 5 children and 14 grandchildren. I am married to her only son. I love her and I want her to live.

Another One Bites the Dust

No riveting tale of the hunt, but I snagged another one in the night. I will allow Jeff the pleasure of disposing of it when he gets home from work. I expect there will be more.

Happy Saturday! =)

Diary of a Mouse Slayer

Oh boy!

It happened again.

In the absence of my manly protection this weekend, I was forced to rise to the occasion and defend my household.

It started out like any other day. I was painting my deck railing, enjoying the exceptionally beautiful day, keeping an ear on David sleeping in the house, while keeping a watchful eye on Kathryn as she frolicked about the yard still in her pajamas and yesterday's ponytails, when suddenly my peripheral mother eyes detected some scurrying activity in the garage.

Aware that there had been a mouse sighting as recently as a couple of weeks ago, as well as evidence of its ongoing presence, I stepped cautiously just inside the garage door expecting it to retreat into one of its many hidden fortresses. But no. No, it did not. It brazenly walked, not ran, to the general vicinity of the steps leading into the house. I would even go so far as to say it STRUTTED, and slowly. It was as if he was taunting me. I might have been able to snatch him with my bare hand if I would have gathered the courage. But I did not. Eventually he did dart from view. I quickly opened a few container's of D-Con, not that it was a quick attack resulting in immediate extermination, but I was thinking I should have put it out a couple weeks ago anyway. As an after thought, I laid out a couple of my sticky traps real strategical-like and went back to work.

I checked back a couple times and found nothing. AND THEN...I got him!

He was quite frantic and quite stuck, and I wondered what kind of sick person I was that this sight filled me with such a sense of jubilation. Probably the same kind of sick person who had the idea of setting him out in the driveway to be finished off by a creature of the sky so that she would not have to think of a more creative and successful method herself. I already had plans for my day and limited time before my boy woke up. Plus, I thought it might be sort of neat to see if the bird got stuck to the sticky trap too. But that only lasted a couple of minutes before the guilt overtook me. There was no need to torture him any further.

So I resorted to my tried and true method of mouse annihilation. I triple WalMart bagged him right up and placed him behind the wheel of Jeff's truck.

And it was finished.

Backward.

Forward.

Trash can out back.

Done.

Back to work.

The deck is all first-coated and half of it is second-coated, and I didn't see any more mice the rest of the day.

The End.

Traveling Light

Ask me to pack a suitcase, and "traveling light" simply does not compute. But, take away half of my kids for the weekend and you are speaking my language. Wahooo!

I find it almost amusing to see how much my perspective has changed with the adding of each arrow to my quiver. Once was the day I was stressed out to the maximus by the duties and interruptions of having just one child. I cringed at the thought of taking him with me to my doctor or dentist appointments. I attempted very little in the way of, well...anything, such has house projects or commitments outside the home of any kind. I had only a couple friends who also had only one child and we would get together often and talk about who knows what all afternoon. Really important stuff, I am sure. Like, how much we had calculated the cost of Huggies and Pampers wipes to be per wipe and which scent of bath wash we liked best. Whether we used liquid fabric softener or dryer sheets, and why we thought it was very important for babies to always wear shoes. Deeper topics of conversation might include how long we pushed during labor and whether we said any swear words or defecated during said phase, and whether we would send our fall birthday infants to Early 5's or straight to kindergarten in five years. I had no hobbies. How could I? What with all my socializing and rigorous personal napping schedule. I was the mother of a small child and I was tired. Who could expect any more of me?

In some ways nothing has changed. I am still tired. And I still love my naps, though they are much fewer and farther between. I still find myself overwhelmed frequently. And why wouldn't I? Having four children is a lot like having one, only there are three more of them.

But yesterday as I breastfed David while getting my teeth cleaned, and while my other three preciouses waited in the waiting room unattended after going garage saling all morning with all four of them, I had a little time to think about what HAS changed. Not just that I now use WalMart brand wipes and I have no idea how much they cost or that it has been months since I have spent time with friends. I pondered how much my adaptation and survival skills had evolved and wondered when this process had taken place. When I had I been able to start doing more with less time and energy? When had I decided it was better to just get up and go and do, with all my 40-12 kids in tow, than to lock myself and them away in the prison of my own home and failed expectations with my lengthy to-do list and the ever-fleeting hope of a nap hanging over head?! I couldn't remember.

Julia left yesterday afternoon for a trip with Amy and family, and Jeff and Andrew are going on a boys-only outing, leaving me with only two, albeit the highest-maintenance two, for the weekend. While it is still one more than I had when I was too consumed and distracted by my one not-even-very demanding child to be of much use in an any other capacity, it seems like quite a vacation. I have already been planning all the projects I will accomplish and all the quiet time I will enjoy in their absence. I am getting my hair colored tonight and I am going to cook some adult food for only me. I might rent a movie, or better yet, read a book...with WORDS.

I still use liquid fabric softener, except for on the days I don't. And I still enjoy the scent of Baby Magic, though I have found that in a pinch dish soap works and smells just fine too. But the best part of what has changed is that having four children means that having only two of them for the weekend means a 50% reduction and that is traveling very darn light!

Gerbie Eats Cereal

All of my babies have been affectionately called "Gerbie" (short of "Gerber") by Aunt Meridith. Last night Gerbie David had cereal for the first time and absolutely could not get enough of it. Nary a drop was wasted. He was not, however, fond of the prune juice I attempted to wash it down with.

Seven, Slowly But Surely

I remember my 7th birthday, where has the time gone? As was the custom in that day, we usually spent it traveling to New Hampshire to bring in the New Year on our knees. Because we couldn't do that in Michigan. Everybody knows God doesn't hear prayers from Michigan, only those from the base of Mt. Monadnock. It's because we say "pop" and "aunt" which rhymes with "pant" instead of "jaunt". God doesn't like those words. =)

Anyway, for some reason Brenda Wargo was along with us and I remember feeling quite mature and worthy of riding in the company of one so classy and cool when she told me I was "growing up slowly, but surely".

Now my secondborn is 7 and is growing up just as surely, but way too
quickly...

Monkey Biz-nass

Okay, a new post. Yeaaaah. Let's see...

After a week and a half of being "health-conscious" I had to splurge. It is unnatural to be good all the time. All we like sheep have gone astray. I love my sweets and I need my bread. So I last night I whooped up some Monkey Bread to enjoy this morning after rising to perfection and soaking in sugar and fat all night. That would be the bread dough, not myself. Oh boy!

For any fellow fat and carb lovers, the night before you just put 15 frozen dinner rolls in a well-greased bundt pan then mix together 1 stick of melted butter, 1 cup of brown sugar, 1 teaspoon (or to taste) of cinnamon, and 1 package of regular (NOT INSTANT) butterscotch pudding mix and pour it over the rolls. Leave them to sit out and rise overnight, uncovered. Bake in the morning at 350*. This part's a little sketchy because I don't have a real recipe, it's a word-of-mouth thing. I think it ended up being around 25 minutes, but I covered them with foil part way through because the tops were getting too brown. When done, remove from oven and let them cool a couple of minutes, then invert on a large serving platter. Allow them to cool a little more, then gobble them up before the rest of your family wakes up.

I have had a good week. I just want to share that for all those who read and are accustomed to my complaining about this, that, and the other thing. I have felt good physically, I have been productive, and I am almost scared to say lest I jinx myself...(shhh, lean a little closer)...I see dead people. =) No, really, I was going to say I feel happy.

(Whoa, that was wicked personal...now I feel all exposed!)

So, I pressure washed my front porch last Friday and Saturday for about 8 hours. It is amazing that water alone can make that much difference. It could look even better with a little more skill and time, but that is as much as I have to give it for now and it was a HUGE improvement. I intend to stain the decking and have already started painting the posts, railings, and spindles white. I love it. Presently it is a very weathered-looking and shoddily applied used-to-be-white. I have also picked a rusty red color called Sly Fox to paint my front door and shutters. Presently the front door is factory primed and I have no shutters. Hooray for color and inexpensive home improvements!

Hey, mom's! An inexpensive craft to dazzle your bored children this summer: FABRIC CRAYONS. Get them. Use them. You just have them draw a picture on a regular sheet of paper with the crayons and then iron them on an item of your choosing following the directions on the package. We did pillowcases for J's birthday this week and you would have thought I brought home a Shetland pony.

Has anyone seen Ratatouille yet? We saw it for J's birthday. Loved it. Makes me only mildly less freaked out to discover some suspicious droppings under my Lazy Susan. I'd be honored to think my kitchen was being used as a training ground for an aspiring chef. =) Not really. I am thoroughly freaked out!

Hey, what do other people keep in that little short cupboard above their refrigerators? I really want to know, please share...