Know what's weird around here today? I'll tell you.
We've been "budget conscious" for so long, I feel guilty for window shopping.
After a night of horrendous pain following self-inflicted toe nail surgery, my toe hurts less now than it did before. I thought I'd have to suffer at least a couple days.
Multi colored mini marshmallows will stain upholstery when chewed up and spit out.
My SD, D, likes me, BECAUSE I don't let her do everything she wants. What's weirder, is that she TOLD me that.
If you walk into the edge of a door in the middle of the night, you can't keep your tongue off the fat lip it gives you.
Chickens that produce so many eggs you have to give them away, will immediately stop laying eggs the minute you go on a diet that uses a lot of eggs.
The time the trash men come is directly relative to your ability to remember to take the trash to the curb. If you forget, they'll be there bright and early. If you remember, they won't show until after 6 pm.
The mail carrier works on the same laws as the trash men.
The more you hate a movie or cartoon, the more your kids like it.
That's all I have for now. Check out my new little award over in my sidebar! Thanks Mary! Even though it turns out I'm not as interesting as you originally thought, I appreciate the kudos!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
It *IS* Sandal Season, After All...
My toenail is ingrown. Horribly, horribly ingrown, sore, and generally yucky. Attempted remedies could make up a blog all on their own. But after I applied my waterproof NexCare bandage, I found that I just couldn't leave well enough alone. Bloggable? Yes? No? *shrug* I think this may be a new all time low in the history of blogging.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
To The Nice Man At Lowes
Thank you so much for taking the time to discuss my woefully inadequate kitchen light fixture and explaining the process of installing recessed lighting. I'm leaning toward your original suggestion of installing a larger florescent fixture. Now, let me give you a little piece of advice: Yes, we bonded over light fixtures, yes, I know, it *is* exciting to talk to a girl who knows her way around a two way switch, but the "little one" isn't due, ever, ever again, and you are the worlds biggest %$#@@%#$^ for suggesting it. You made me cry, and as a result, my hubster now has snot on his shirt. Which I must now go wash. If we learn nothing from this blog, people, learn this: Never, Ever, EVER ask someone when she is due or anything resembling that question unless you already know the answer.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Thursday Thoughts
I've been working hard on regaining some semblence of my pre-babies body. I started with weights and lots and lots and lots of ab work. I'm making some progress, two steps forward, one bowl of ice cream back, but I digress.
Lately, I've been using DVR to record Fit TV workouts (since my pilates dvd went missing). I found All Star Workout and I've liked that there is something new everyday, but I do find some workout's are better than others. Take the Belly Dancing one from today. Things started out, well, OK, since there's no way I can roll my belly and have it look like anything other than a big roll of pasty white jello, I skipped that part. So we moved on to hip drops. OK. I've been known to shake a little booty in my day. After the instructor showed us the booty shake, she showed us a step sequence called, the "grapevine", I only fell once, so it was cool. Then we had to shake the booty AND do the grapevine. Since hubster is working out of town today, I decided against personal injury and skipped that part. She moved on to some hip circles and something called the "egyptian", and I watched. Somewhere between the "basic" and the final hip roll, I found myself lounging on the couch with a perplexed look on my face and I decided that maybe belly dancing wasn't a viable option for me as a workout program.
K has been sounding like she's 6 going on 16 lately.
Me: 6+4 eqaaaaallllssss?
K: 10! It's 10! B, hush up, I know, cuz I used ALL MY FINGERS!
****
B: I didn't save my money for Sonic! I want to buy a game!
K: I'm not spending *MY* money, that's mostly mine for a GAME. I.am.not.gonna.do.it.
(Wonder where she learned to talk like that?)
****
And now we're off to spend the rest of the afternoon at my friend's pool. Yeahy for friends with pools during 105 degree days!
Lately, I've been using DVR to record Fit TV workouts (since my pilates dvd went missing). I found All Star Workout and I've liked that there is something new everyday, but I do find some workout's are better than others. Take the Belly Dancing one from today. Things started out, well, OK, since there's no way I can roll my belly and have it look like anything other than a big roll of pasty white jello, I skipped that part. So we moved on to hip drops. OK. I've been known to shake a little booty in my day. After the instructor showed us the booty shake, she showed us a step sequence called, the "grapevine", I only fell once, so it was cool. Then we had to shake the booty AND do the grapevine. Since hubster is working out of town today, I decided against personal injury and skipped that part. She moved on to some hip circles and something called the "egyptian", and I watched. Somewhere between the "basic" and the final hip roll, I found myself lounging on the couch with a perplexed look on my face and I decided that maybe belly dancing wasn't a viable option for me as a workout program.
K has been sounding like she's 6 going on 16 lately.
Me: 6+4 eqaaaaallllssss?
K: 10! It's 10! B, hush up, I know, cuz I used ALL MY FINGERS!
****
B: I didn't save my money for Sonic! I want to buy a game!
K: I'm not spending *MY* money, that's mostly mine for a GAME. I.am.not.gonna.do.it.
(Wonder where she learned to talk like that?)
****
And now we're off to spend the rest of the afternoon at my friend's pool. Yeahy for friends with pools during 105 degree days!
Monday, July 17, 2006
Love and Hate at the Local Library
Love- Row after row of books.
Hate- Grumpy Librarians. You'd think they'd at least like kids a *little bit*, but no.
Love- That you can take home as many as your heart desires.
Hate- When the kids beg to take home Sponge Bob Squarepants videos instead of something...I don't know...book-ish.
Love- Browsing the covers of books for hours.
Hate- Hearing the shrieking of my two year old as she protests her stroller confinement.
Hate Even More- Hearing the shrieking of my seven year old because my two year old BIT him whilst he attempted to school her on Library etiquette. You know, basics, like, don't run, don't scream and don't tear all the books off the shelves and throw them at other patrons.
Love- Picking out new adventure filled pages to introduce my children to the world of literature.
Hate- Computers on child size tables, in the picture book section...
Love- Summer Reading Club.
Love Even More- All the cool stuff we got for DOING Summer Reading Club.
Hate- That our Library doesn't put a sticker with the due date on the books anymore...They give you a list.
Hate Even More- That they still have to put a sticker in the book over the theft protection device. This sticker serves no purpose other than tempting little fingers to peel it off, meaning that not a week goes by that we don't announce our entry to the library by setting off the alarm. At least print the due date on the damn thing so when I notice it, stuck to the bottom of my foot, as I sit on the toilet, I have some idea of whether the books need to go back this week or next.
Love- Having a place to let the childrenrun wild quietly entertain themselves during 100+ degree weather.
Hate- Having to leave the books I look at on the end of the row to be *counted* instead of putting them right back where I found them.
Love- That, for once, someone else has to pick up all the books my kids get out.
Hate-Leaving.
Love- That we get to do it all over again next week.
Hate- Grumpy Librarians. You'd think they'd at least like kids a *little bit*, but no.
Love- That you can take home as many as your heart desires.
Hate- When the kids beg to take home Sponge Bob Squarepants videos instead of something...I don't know...book-ish.
Love- Browsing the covers of books for hours.
Hate- Hearing the shrieking of my two year old as she protests her stroller confinement.
Hate Even More- Hearing the shrieking of my seven year old because my two year old BIT him whilst he attempted to school her on Library etiquette. You know, basics, like, don't run, don't scream and don't tear all the books off the shelves and throw them at other patrons.
Love- Picking out new adventure filled pages to introduce my children to the world of literature.
Hate- Computers on child size tables, in the picture book section...
Love- Summer Reading Club.
Love Even More- All the cool stuff we got for DOING Summer Reading Club.
Hate- That our Library doesn't put a sticker with the due date on the books anymore...They give you a list.
Hate Even More- That they still have to put a sticker in the book over the theft protection device. This sticker serves no purpose other than tempting little fingers to peel it off, meaning that not a week goes by that we don't announce our entry to the library by setting off the alarm. At least print the due date on the damn thing so when I notice it, stuck to the bottom of my foot, as I sit on the toilet, I have some idea of whether the books need to go back this week or next.
Love- Having a place to let the children
Hate- Having to leave the books I look at on the end of the row to be *counted* instead of putting them right back where I found them.
Love- That, for once, someone else has to pick up all the books my kids get out.
Hate-Leaving.
Love- That we get to do it all over again next week.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Pink Drink
What Texas lacks in the cherry department, it's made up for with an abundance of watermelons. I'm pretty sure there's a name for this, it's a recipe with Mexican origin, I believe. We love it because it's so fruity and refreshing on a sweltering summer night.
Watermelon, only use seedless. Cube it up and chuck it in the blender, fill almost full. Add enough cold water to fill blender halfway. Add about 1/2 cup of sugar, more or less according to taste, then cram ice cubes in the blender until you can barely get the lid on. Hold the lid on tight and pulverize the whole thing for about 30 seconds.
Make more.
And then make some more.
And if you have a larger than average family, just keep making until you run out of watermelons.
Enjoy!
Watermelon, only use seedless. Cube it up and chuck it in the blender, fill almost full. Add enough cold water to fill blender halfway. Add about 1/2 cup of sugar, more or less according to taste, then cram ice cubes in the blender until you can barely get the lid on. Hold the lid on tight and pulverize the whole thing for about 30 seconds.
Make more.
And then make some more.
And if you have a larger than average family, just keep making until you run out of watermelons.
Enjoy!
Monday, July 10, 2006
Discussing My Addiction
Gabriela pointed out this weekend that I might be a little bit addicted to the internet. While discussing with Hubster what we want to do when D graduates from HS, the thought of sending my husband to medical school in Belize came up. My first thought was: "I can live anywhere as long as they have a good, fast internet connection." Not, "I wonder if they have good schools and decent sanitation", nope, I'm worried about my download/upload speed. Go ahead and laugh if you want Gabs, but considering everything I've done on-line already this morning, a world without internet would mean some serious withdrawls for me. Here's what I do "in front of the computer all day":
Check bank balance
Pay bills
Locate at least three phone numbers for Hubster
Check the cattle prices
Register for Hubster's seminar
Check Library to see if my book is in yet
check Little League site for fall registration
Add homeschool books to my shopping carts (gotta order those soon)
check cell phone account for usage estimate
get CLEP test dates and costs
And of course, I've checked my email which is how D got me a picture of her new duvet cover for her room
and now Blogger.
And yes, Blogger is a huge time sink. Instead of tidying up the breakfast, OK, make that the weekend dishes (including the dishes from last night's peach ice cream-making-session), I am writing to you now. I have errands to run, a yard to attend, chickens to feed, children to teach, a shower to take, a house to clean and meals to cook, and still I type. And then I check my bloggy girlfriends' sites. And then I comment. And then I check back later to see if there are more comments, or a new post. If I didn't have the excuse that this is my journal, I'd have to feel pretty guilty about blogging!
But just think of all that time I saved paying bills, looking things up, buying things and signing up for things on line! That has to be the counter balance, right?! That's what I'm telling Hubster. He'll understand why the house is trashed, the laundry isn't done, and dinner came out of a can, right? At least I don't have a suitcase full of shoes to explain, like SOME people we know! LOL
Check bank balance
Pay bills
Locate at least three phone numbers for Hubster
Check the cattle prices
Register for Hubster's seminar
Check Library to see if my book is in yet
check Little League site for fall registration
Add homeschool books to my shopping carts (gotta order those soon)
check cell phone account for usage estimate
get CLEP test dates and costs
And of course, I've checked my email which is how D got me a picture of her new duvet cover for her room
and now Blogger.
And yes, Blogger is a huge time sink. Instead of tidying up the breakfast, OK, make that the weekend dishes (including the dishes from last night's peach ice cream-making-session), I am writing to you now. I have errands to run, a yard to attend, chickens to feed, children to teach, a shower to take, a house to clean and meals to cook, and still I type. And then I check my bloggy girlfriends' sites. And then I comment. And then I check back later to see if there are more comments, or a new post. If I didn't have the excuse that this is my journal, I'd have to feel pretty guilty about blogging!
But just think of all that time I saved paying bills, looking things up, buying things and signing up for things on line! That has to be the counter balance, right?! That's what I'm telling Hubster. He'll understand why the house is trashed, the laundry isn't done, and dinner came out of a can, right? At least I don't have a suitcase full of shoes to explain, like SOME people we know! LOL
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
The Burning Question on My MInd
I really ought to start taking my camera to the grocery store. My blog would be much more interesting that way. Did you KNOW that Oscar Meyer puts out hot dogs that are individually wrapped (in the box) that are already in BUNS? They call them some thing like, "Easy Dogs". Has any one seen these? Or is it just Texans that are too lazy to heat AND assemble a hot dog? For heaven's sake, J can almost accomplish this task on her own, and she's not even two yet! In fact, I went to their website to obtain a picture of this product just to show you, and there ISN'T ONE! I am laughing, laughing, laughing about the fact that they have this "new" product and there is no mention of it anywhere on their website! They are dumb enough to *make* such a product, but not silly enough to let anyone know that they do. That's just one of those things that makes me go "Hmmmmmmm."
(Remember that song?)
During my outing, I also made a couple observations.
I don't think I will ever master the art of the messy ponytail. There was a very pretty brunette girl at the store who had on hip, cute, clothes, and a perfectly shaped messy ponytail. You've seen them, they have the "tail" part right in the middle of their heads, and the top is artfully arranged so it looks like it's ALMOST about to fall out, and yet, never does. It kind of looks...square...almost. I've seen the look before on my nieces, and they look absolutely fabulous. I try it, and I look like Ashlee Simpson after she went through the car wash in a convertible.
Blondes with big fake boobs, big, badly colored hair do's attract enough attention without ignoring their advanced age and wearing belly shirts. Unfortunatly, this fact is lost on many of them. One woman closely resembling the above remark, was flirting with one of the bagger boys. He looked more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Poor kid couldn't get rid of her fast enough.
I do love to watch people.
But after all my self commentated people watching, I exited the store and caught a glimpse of myself in the glass. I'm telling you, someone REALLY ought to lock up all my husbands oversized t-shirts and gym shorts, make me put on a little makeup once in a while and paint my toenails. And a shower couldn't hurt. If I saw myself in the store like that, I'd be telling myself, "Self, that poor woman needs to get.a.grip. Man, has she looked in a mirror lately? What on earth possessed her to think that get up was acceptable for schlepping around town?"
In my defense I did not have on pajama bottoms and slippers. Which means that at least once or twice, I have looked worse.
Why are comfortable, cotton, loose fitting articles of clothing so good at making us look so bad?
(Remember that song?)
During my outing, I also made a couple observations.
I don't think I will ever master the art of the messy ponytail. There was a very pretty brunette girl at the store who had on hip, cute, clothes, and a perfectly shaped messy ponytail. You've seen them, they have the "tail" part right in the middle of their heads, and the top is artfully arranged so it looks like it's ALMOST about to fall out, and yet, never does. It kind of looks...square...almost. I've seen the look before on my nieces, and they look absolutely fabulous. I try it, and I look like Ashlee Simpson after she went through the car wash in a convertible.
Blondes with big fake boobs, big, badly colored hair do's attract enough attention without ignoring their advanced age and wearing belly shirts. Unfortunatly, this fact is lost on many of them. One woman closely resembling the above remark, was flirting with one of the bagger boys. He looked more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Poor kid couldn't get rid of her fast enough.
I do love to watch people.
But after all my self commentated people watching, I exited the store and caught a glimpse of myself in the glass. I'm telling you, someone REALLY ought to lock up all my husbands oversized t-shirts and gym shorts, make me put on a little makeup once in a while and paint my toenails. And a shower couldn't hurt. If I saw myself in the store like that, I'd be telling myself, "Self, that poor woman needs to get.a.grip. Man, has she looked in a mirror lately? What on earth possessed her to think that get up was acceptable for schlepping around town?"
In my defense I did not have on pajama bottoms and slippers. Which means that at least once or twice, I have looked worse.
Why are comfortable, cotton, loose fitting articles of clothing so good at making us look so bad?
Monday, July 03, 2006
Refiner's Fire
I received this as an e-mail a couple of years back, and due to the circumstances in life as I know it in the past couple years, I've referred to it often. It makes me bawl like a baby whenever I read it, so, you're on your own for further discussion. Big cyber hug to all my girlies and blog readin' fam.
There was a group of women in a Bible study on the book of Malachi. As they were studying chapter three, they came across verse three which says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." (Malachi 3:3) This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God.
One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study. That week this woman called up a silver smith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest in silver beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silver smith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities. The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot--then she thought again about the verse, that he sits as a refiner and purifier of silver.
She asked the silver smith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silver smith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?"
He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy--when I see my image in it."
If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you.
There was a group of women in a Bible study on the book of Malachi. As they were studying chapter three, they came across verse three which says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." (Malachi 3:3) This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God.
One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study. That week this woman called up a silver smith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest in silver beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silver smith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities. The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot--then she thought again about the verse, that he sits as a refiner and purifier of silver.
She asked the silver smith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silver smith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?"
He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy--when I see my image in it."
If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Why We Will Not be Potty Training Any Time Soon:
"Hey J! Wanna put on a Pull Up Today?"
"Um...J?..."
"This is not going exactly as I had planned..."
"I'm a big kid now!"
I give up.
"Um...J?..."
"This is not going exactly as I had planned..."
"I'm a big kid now!"
I give up.
Calling All T Family Members!
Guess what usually costs $6 per pound and was on sale today for $1.49 per pound?
Yup!
For all my bloggy friends, my Grandma G used to can cherries and they were *THE* after dinner treat when you went to Grandma G's house to spend the night. My Dad ate more than his fair share of these babies while growing up! It's really very simple, just cherries in some light syrup, but oh, so good! All you Utah girls probably have at least one neighbor with a nice big tree full in the back yard, but down here, cherries are hard to come by and usually very expensive. I've never seen this good a price in the whole time we've been here! My Grandma G was kind enough to write out her method for me, she says "41-42# yields about 30 quarts". Talk about needing a loan! So I did my measly 10# tonight and I'll treasure every bite in my 5 quarts thank-you-very-much!
Yum! Now let's get down to business. Boiling the jars:
Jars with clean, de-stemmed cherries, waiting for syrup:
Water bath:
Finished jars! Eeek! Hard water, wipe those jars off with a little vinegar to clear the spots!
Video Hosting - Upload Video - Video Sharing
If any of you would like to join me for a bowl of cherries, I have extra beds, but as you can see, there are only 5 quarts, you'll need to hurry and make your reservation today!
Yup!
For all my bloggy friends, my Grandma G used to can cherries and they were *THE* after dinner treat when you went to Grandma G's house to spend the night. My Dad ate more than his fair share of these babies while growing up! It's really very simple, just cherries in some light syrup, but oh, so good! All you Utah girls probably have at least one neighbor with a nice big tree full in the back yard, but down here, cherries are hard to come by and usually very expensive. I've never seen this good a price in the whole time we've been here! My Grandma G was kind enough to write out her method for me, she says "41-42# yields about 30 quarts". Talk about needing a loan! So I did my measly 10# tonight and I'll treasure every bite in my 5 quarts thank-you-very-much!
Yum! Now let's get down to business. Boiling the jars:
Jars with clean, de-stemmed cherries, waiting for syrup:
Water bath:
Finished jars! Eeek! Hard water, wipe those jars off with a little vinegar to clear the spots!
Video Hosting - Upload Video - Video Sharing
If any of you would like to join me for a bowl of cherries, I have extra beds, but as you can see, there are only 5 quarts, you'll need to hurry and make your reservation today!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
You Scream, I Scream....
WE ALL SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM!!!!!
Yes. This is now a blog about ice cream. And duck poop. And nasty neighbors. And why in the devil am I NUMBER ONE on Google for the search: "Moms drugging pacifier"? Who Googles for *that*? Where was I going with this?.....
Oh yes.
Ice Cream.
I am coming up for air from my delectable dish of homemade, 12 whole ounces of chocolate, chocolate ice cream. Yes. It is THAT good. I would post a picture, but somehow, I'm guessing that a full grown woman with her face covered in chocolate is not cute, like it is when it's your kid, but probably borders on the somewhat pathetic. But I will assure you it is wonderful. So is the Old Fashion, cooked-on-the-stove, vanilla ice cream I ate before the chocolate. And in between dishes, the Strawberry Sorbet is wonderful for cleansing the palate.
I need to step AWAY from the ice cream maker. I'm hoping Hubster comes home soon to put a stop to all this insanity. For some reason, I felt compelled to spend half of this weeks' milk budget on cream. Good thing that stuff keeps forever. I really need to stop with the ice cream already. I'm pretty sure that they don't include enough extra fabric in bridesmaids' dresses to go up a size or two, so staying the same size or smaller in the next three months is probably a good idea.
In other news, it sounds as if the oldest has really "launched". He's been working his first real manual labor job along side his brother in the oil fields of WY and is now the richest young adult on earth. I'm going to call him for a "fresh cream" loan. So far, he's still planning on coming back to college in the fall, but told us he plans on rooming with a buddy. As in, NOT IN MY HOUSE, rooming with a buddy. Is it wrong for a mother to view her child's room as unclaimed real estate? With the three smallest children stacked into ONE bedroom, I've been rethinking this rooming arrangement since we moved in. The house is a three bedroom house, but, the large dining room has regular doorways with doors in all the openings. We decided M should have that room since it is the farthest away from my room. Even two years away could not make me forget the child's' obsession with music. Music played at all hours of the day and night. Music that goes thump thump thump. Where was I going with this?...
Oh yes.
Large area's of unclaimed real estate.
So I wasted very little time moving D's things into the newly vacated real estate. I even hung her posters. Does anyone else find teen idols disturbing? All I can think of is my own teenage boys. Great looking, wonderful kids to be sure, but A. They smell, B. They sweat, C. They sneak out, D. They wreck your cars, E. They start telling girls they only just met that they "love them"...where was I going with this?...
Oh yes.
So B has his own room for the first time since he was 17 months old.
Given the fact that J and K fight like there's no tomorrow, and J thinks B hung the moon, it really would make more sense that he have the baby in his room. But the idea of being able to decorate a BOYS ROOM and a GIRLS ROOM is far, far too great a temptation for me to pass up. Given the fact that Hubster is the Supreme Hunting Man of all time, I have been leaning toward Cammo as the theme for B's new room. He wanted dinosaurs. You have to have cammo to hunt dinosaurs...right? Cammo=Free Decorating, Dinosaurs=Not Free Decorating. Given my latest addiction, it's gonna be cammo, at least until that wonderful tan microsuede comforter goes on sale.
And the girl's room?
I wish I could say that this bed was going to be the centerpiece of their fabulous new room, but, given the fact that even if I could afford that bed, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to spend that kind of money on a bed, I'm thinking a new paint job on the bunk beds and some tulle is going to be the basis of the new design. K has a beautiful pink satin bedspread she got for her last birthday, so I will be picking something fun, and probably purple, for J. My problem is that I have a love/hate relationship with the bunk beds.
They are great for saving space. They are horrible for kissing little sleeping children. I'm going to have to keep thinking on this one. Where was I going with this?...
Oh yes.
I'm going into the kitchen for another bowl of ice cream.
Yes. This is now a blog about ice cream. And duck poop. And nasty neighbors. And why in the devil am I NUMBER ONE on Google for the search: "Moms drugging pacifier"? Who Googles for *that*? Where was I going with this?.....
Oh yes.
Ice Cream.
I am coming up for air from my delectable dish of homemade, 12 whole ounces of chocolate, chocolate ice cream. Yes. It is THAT good. I would post a picture, but somehow, I'm guessing that a full grown woman with her face covered in chocolate is not cute, like it is when it's your kid, but probably borders on the somewhat pathetic. But I will assure you it is wonderful. So is the Old Fashion, cooked-on-the-stove, vanilla ice cream I ate before the chocolate. And in between dishes, the Strawberry Sorbet is wonderful for cleansing the palate.
I need to step AWAY from the ice cream maker. I'm hoping Hubster comes home soon to put a stop to all this insanity. For some reason, I felt compelled to spend half of this weeks' milk budget on cream. Good thing that stuff keeps forever. I really need to stop with the ice cream already. I'm pretty sure that they don't include enough extra fabric in bridesmaids' dresses to go up a size or two, so staying the same size or smaller in the next three months is probably a good idea.
In other news, it sounds as if the oldest has really "launched". He's been working his first real manual labor job along side his brother in the oil fields of WY and is now the richest young adult on earth. I'm going to call him for a "fresh cream" loan. So far, he's still planning on coming back to college in the fall, but told us he plans on rooming with a buddy. As in, NOT IN MY HOUSE, rooming with a buddy. Is it wrong for a mother to view her child's room as unclaimed real estate? With the three smallest children stacked into ONE bedroom, I've been rethinking this rooming arrangement since we moved in. The house is a three bedroom house, but, the large dining room has regular doorways with doors in all the openings. We decided M should have that room since it is the farthest away from my room. Even two years away could not make me forget the child's' obsession with music. Music played at all hours of the day and night. Music that goes thump thump thump. Where was I going with this?...
Oh yes.
Large area's of unclaimed real estate.
So I wasted very little time moving D's things into the newly vacated real estate. I even hung her posters. Does anyone else find teen idols disturbing? All I can think of is my own teenage boys. Great looking, wonderful kids to be sure, but A. They smell, B. They sweat, C. They sneak out, D. They wreck your cars, E. They start telling girls they only just met that they "love them"...where was I going with this?...
Oh yes.
So B has his own room for the first time since he was 17 months old.
Given the fact that J and K fight like there's no tomorrow, and J thinks B hung the moon, it really would make more sense that he have the baby in his room. But the idea of being able to decorate a BOYS ROOM and a GIRLS ROOM is far, far too great a temptation for me to pass up. Given the fact that Hubster is the Supreme Hunting Man of all time, I have been leaning toward Cammo as the theme for B's new room. He wanted dinosaurs. You have to have cammo to hunt dinosaurs...right? Cammo=Free Decorating, Dinosaurs=Not Free Decorating. Given my latest addiction, it's gonna be cammo, at least until that wonderful tan microsuede comforter goes on sale.
And the girl's room?
I wish I could say that this bed was going to be the centerpiece of their fabulous new room, but, given the fact that even if I could afford that bed, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to spend that kind of money on a bed, I'm thinking a new paint job on the bunk beds and some tulle is going to be the basis of the new design. K has a beautiful pink satin bedspread she got for her last birthday, so I will be picking something fun, and probably purple, for J. My problem is that I have a love/hate relationship with the bunk beds.
They are great for saving space. They are horrible for kissing little sleeping children. I'm going to have to keep thinking on this one. Where was I going with this?...
Oh yes.
I'm going into the kitchen for another bowl of ice cream.
Monday, June 26, 2006
My Splurge!
Ohhhhh! I am the luckiest girl in the whole world today!
When I was growing up on the ranch, we kept milk cows. Milk cows mean lots of fresh cream. And one of the more delicious ways to use up cream is in homemade ice cream. The problem with making ice cream now, is that at $3.57 for two cups, it gets expensive in a hurry. Back then, the cream was free. But we still didn't make ice cream very often. The reason? Ice. Ice had to be bought in town and was always at a premium. I remember making ice cream in the middle of the winter with my grandpa using ice we'd chopped out of the river, and cream grandma had frozen from the summer months. When grandma decided her ice cream making days were over, she gave me her old ice cream maker, and it burned up the first time we used it. *phooey*
I know better than going to stores...any stores...when I'm on the shoestring budget. I know this. I really do. But Tar-gee was calling my name. I only went to check out the clearance bedding items for some idea's for D's bed spread, since she's getting the queen size bed, it stands to reason that she needs a new comforter...right? I was only gonna LOOOOOOOK.
And then....I saw *it*.
I've been seeing those little 2 quart ice cream makers at Wally Mart this summer...$16. And I have to admit, I've been tempted. But today, sitting there on an end-cap, (darn that sly marketing) was a Hamilton Beach, 4 quart, Ice Cream making MACHINE. $29.99. *sigh* Not today. But WAIT! Do my eyes deceive me? On special for $17.88, and today is the.last.day. "SOLD!!!", I said!
Now I just have to run to the store for some ice. And some cream. And some salt.
*sigh*
Oh well...I'm having homemade ice cream TONIGHT, baby!
When I was growing up on the ranch, we kept milk cows. Milk cows mean lots of fresh cream. And one of the more delicious ways to use up cream is in homemade ice cream. The problem with making ice cream now, is that at $3.57 for two cups, it gets expensive in a hurry. Back then, the cream was free. But we still didn't make ice cream very often. The reason? Ice. Ice had to be bought in town and was always at a premium. I remember making ice cream in the middle of the winter with my grandpa using ice we'd chopped out of the river, and cream grandma had frozen from the summer months. When grandma decided her ice cream making days were over, she gave me her old ice cream maker, and it burned up the first time we used it. *phooey*
I know better than going to stores...any stores...when I'm on the shoestring budget. I know this. I really do. But Tar-gee was calling my name. I only went to check out the clearance bedding items for some idea's for D's bed spread, since she's getting the queen size bed, it stands to reason that she needs a new comforter...right? I was only gonna LOOOOOOOK.
And then....I saw *it*.
I've been seeing those little 2 quart ice cream makers at Wally Mart this summer...$16. And I have to admit, I've been tempted. But today, sitting there on an end-cap, (darn that sly marketing) was a Hamilton Beach, 4 quart, Ice Cream making MACHINE. $29.99. *sigh* Not today. But WAIT! Do my eyes deceive me? On special for $17.88, and today is the.last.day. "SOLD!!!", I said!
Now I just have to run to the store for some ice. And some cream. And some salt.
*sigh*
Oh well...I'm having homemade ice cream TONIGHT, baby!
Saturday, June 24, 2006
J to English Dictionary
Hip Hip Hooray! She'snotamute. We were starting to wonder. The first two children spoke clearly enough to be understood on the telephone around 15 months. Full sentences were well underway by 18 months and by two years of age, we couldn't get them to shut up. J has been content to scream and whine until someone figures out what she wants. This has been the source of endless frusteration and hairpulling on my part. But in the last two weeks she's started expressing herself with words, even though she usually requires me to interpret for others, I'm not worried, since this seems to be a common thing for most families.
'TOP!: Stop. Usually in reference to something being done to her by one of her siblings.
'Nonny: Naughty. Usually said in conjunction with something she shouldn't be doing and accompanied by a sadistic grin and eyelashes batted at full speed.
'EP MEEEEE!: Help me. Anytime she needs assistance. And at the pool. As I carry her screaming from the pool to the locker room before she shrivels up into the size of a raisin.
itty itty itty: Kitty. As in, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Pay no attention to the large, heavy object I'm carrying..."
Me: Used in conjunction with everything in sight at any given time. Usually accompanied by a look that clearly says "I am the queen of the world, so stand down earthling!"
'eeeee: Please. Sounds suspiciously like me, but Hubster says it's please. He's hoping she's not the terror she sounds like.
NO!: You know the thing about the pool? Yeah. This goes in there too. I'm here to tell you that the pronunciation of this word was practiced non-stop over a 30 minute period.
I fwop!: "The green beans and milk I ate for dinner are in my hair. I have stared into the eyes of death, and I have lived to tell about it. Now give me a bath and wash everything within a 12 foot radius of my body."
She also has consistent gibberish sounds she uses for blanket, thank you, excuse me, where's K/B and outside. I'd love to type these out, but they come out of the nose...mostly. It's more of a voice intonation thing.
But the monkey dance and the frequent bottom-lip-only-kisses she's been giving out are by far the two most endearing tricks she's learned. The monkey dance involves rocking side to side, the whole foot coming off the ground and waving the arms above the head while wiggling the hips and body. Clapping and jumping both feet off the floor are also a big part of the monkey dance. And there doesn't have to be much to inspire a monkey dance. Monkey dancing is even funnier than dancing to the Llama Llama song for 30 minutes at a stretch. Even when there is no monkey dancing, you should watch for monkey walking. Walking with stiff legs and bobbing your head side to side like a drunken little midget is fun don'tcha'know?
Is it any wonder I've neglected my blog over the last couple weeks?! LOL
'TOP!: Stop. Usually in reference to something being done to her by one of her siblings.
'Nonny: Naughty. Usually said in conjunction with something she shouldn't be doing and accompanied by a sadistic grin and eyelashes batted at full speed.
'EP MEEEEE!: Help me. Anytime she needs assistance. And at the pool. As I carry her screaming from the pool to the locker room before she shrivels up into the size of a raisin.
itty itty itty: Kitty. As in, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Pay no attention to the large, heavy object I'm carrying..."
Me: Used in conjunction with everything in sight at any given time. Usually accompanied by a look that clearly says "I am the queen of the world, so stand down earthling!"
'eeeee: Please. Sounds suspiciously like me, but Hubster says it's please. He's hoping she's not the terror she sounds like.
NO!: You know the thing about the pool? Yeah. This goes in there too. I'm here to tell you that the pronunciation of this word was practiced non-stop over a 30 minute period.
I fwop!: "The green beans and milk I ate for dinner are in my hair. I have stared into the eyes of death, and I have lived to tell about it. Now give me a bath and wash everything within a 12 foot radius of my body."
She also has consistent gibberish sounds she uses for blanket, thank you, excuse me, where's K/B and outside. I'd love to type these out, but they come out of the nose...mostly. It's more of a voice intonation thing.
But the monkey dance and the frequent bottom-lip-only-kisses she's been giving out are by far the two most endearing tricks she's learned. The monkey dance involves rocking side to side, the whole foot coming off the ground and waving the arms above the head while wiggling the hips and body. Clapping and jumping both feet off the floor are also a big part of the monkey dance. And there doesn't have to be much to inspire a monkey dance. Monkey dancing is even funnier than dancing to the Llama Llama song for 30 minutes at a stretch. Even when there is no monkey dancing, you should watch for monkey walking. Walking with stiff legs and bobbing your head side to side like a drunken little midget is fun don'tcha'know?
Is it any wonder I've neglected my blog over the last couple weeks?! LOL
Friday, June 23, 2006
As the Neighborhood Turns....Part two
Yes, I think I'm going to make this blog into a little drama series about my craptastic neighbors.
I came home today to a bright yellow notice on my door. Yup. My friendly police department just dropping me a little love note to the effect that the neighbors are griping again and if I could park on the lawn it would be so much better.
I took action.
Just to clarify, I restrained myself from all shoe polish use, and talked hubby into parking the long trailer tight up next to the garage. We only left the Bronco, which had the utility trailer attached, parked on the street.
So I just couldn't stand it anymore, and I went door to door. "Yes, hi, I'm your neighborhood red neck, and someone has been complaining about our trailers, I was hoping to find out who so we could maybe come to an understanding?" I didn't get too far into my quest before I ran into someone brave enough to own up to their actions. At first, she was a little defensive about having called the police, she claims to have been asked by two other neighbors to complain on their behalf, get this, they told her they didn't have time to call themselves. I politely gave her the rundown on the fact that the car was legally parked and the only reason it was parked on the street was because of the complaint that it was in the yard last week. I let her know that her "friends" who "didn't have time to call" had actually put quite a bit of time and effort into the whole thing and told her about the certified letter. She seemed genuinely shocked and said she felt really bad for calling today, especially when I pointed out that if people keep complaining about us parking them on the yard, we'll have no choice but to leave them parked on the street permanently. We ended up having a really nice conversation and she pointed me in the direction of the lady most likely to have been the instigator of the failure to maintain premises complaint, and I'm pretty sure she'll explain the situation to the other neighbor she claims asked her to complain. So I guess I'll be paying a visit to the lonely little old lady at the end of our street who has L.O.T.S. of extra time on her hands. I rang twice tonight, and even though the light was on, she didn't answer the door. I'm not sure it will do much good, but, it can't hurt to try.
I should really get a picture of what I'm talking about so you all can see I'm not crazy and we really do keep the place up.
I came home today to a bright yellow notice on my door. Yup. My friendly police department just dropping me a little love note to the effect that the neighbors are griping again and if I could park on the lawn it would be so much better.
I took action.
Just to clarify, I restrained myself from all shoe polish use, and talked hubby into parking the long trailer tight up next to the garage. We only left the Bronco, which had the utility trailer attached, parked on the street.
So I just couldn't stand it anymore, and I went door to door. "Yes, hi, I'm your neighborhood red neck, and someone has been complaining about our trailers, I was hoping to find out who so we could maybe come to an understanding?" I didn't get too far into my quest before I ran into someone brave enough to own up to their actions. At first, she was a little defensive about having called the police, she claims to have been asked by two other neighbors to complain on their behalf, get this, they told her they didn't have time to call themselves. I politely gave her the rundown on the fact that the car was legally parked and the only reason it was parked on the street was because of the complaint that it was in the yard last week. I let her know that her "friends" who "didn't have time to call" had actually put quite a bit of time and effort into the whole thing and told her about the certified letter. She seemed genuinely shocked and said she felt really bad for calling today, especially when I pointed out that if people keep complaining about us parking them on the yard, we'll have no choice but to leave them parked on the street permanently. We ended up having a really nice conversation and she pointed me in the direction of the lady most likely to have been the instigator of the failure to maintain premises complaint, and I'm pretty sure she'll explain the situation to the other neighbor she claims asked her to complain. So I guess I'll be paying a visit to the lonely little old lady at the end of our street who has L.O.T.S. of extra time on her hands. I rang twice tonight, and even though the light was on, she didn't answer the door. I'm not sure it will do much good, but, it can't hurt to try.
I should really get a picture of what I'm talking about so you all can see I'm not crazy and we really do keep the place up.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Love Thy Neighbor
Or not. *sigh*
Just in case you all missed it, the world fell off it's axis last Friday. Our three cows, who were no doubt coerced by our mule, escaped from their comfy pasture and were roaming the dead end country road in Small Town, Texas. Somehow, the neighbors living up and down the street must've not noticed our animals living there for the past three years, since no one knew where they were supposed to be. Oh, they knew the name of the owners, and apparantly, my phone number as well, since the friendly Sherriff's Department called and left no fewer than 5 messages informing us that the animals had escaped, and judging by the breathlessness of those messages, were running wild up and down the northern part of Texas. Sherriff-ing must not pay what it used to, or we must have one b-o-r-i-n-g little town. I'm no genius, but it seems to me that the easiest way to solve the problem would have been to open the gate to their pasture and let them back in. A little grain + an open gate= animal's happy to follow you to the ends of the earth. Instead, our friendly Sherriff's department, (which, by the way, has it's own "Posse", we are in Texas, remember) decided that it would be much easier to put the animals into a trailer and take them "downtown".
*Snort* Anyone who's herded cattle is probably laughing right along with me at this point....None the less, they did succeed in catching the mule and dragged him off to mule jail, but after much huffing and puffing on the part of our friendly sherriff's department, they were unable to capture the cows, and instead ran them off into...well, the vast wilderness of the rural country neighborhood, I suppose. Upon returning home from a three day stint housesitting for my perfect BIL, we discovered this sorry state of affairs and spent Friday evening rounding up our smart cows who escaped the evil clutches of the law, and most of Saturday bailing our stupid mule out of mule jail, and fixing the fence so that they couldn't put on a repeat performance.
But that is not all! Oh no! That is not all!
There was another message from our landlord, a kind man whom we've been happy to rent from, telling us that he had received a certified letter from the City of Small Town. In my experience, that's never a good thing. So during the great cattle round up of 2006, I repeatedly called his home trying to get ahold of him.
I'm kinda crazy like that. I hate *not knowing*. I can't sleep. It eats me up if I don't *know*.
So I finally got ahold of him and he told me that a neighbor had made a complaint about the condition of the property, specifically: Brush piled in the yard, automobile parts, and trailers parked in front of the residence. The complaint about the trailers gave it away. The "brush" was actually tree limbs from a long overdue "tree hair-cut" that we had trimmed one weekend, and cut up into firewood the next. Wasn't even there by the time the certified letter arrived. The automobile parts consist of the front clip of a 1981 Ford that was brought over by a well intentioned friend to replace parts damaged by a teenage son, 3 "parts" in all. But the trailers! That made me laugh. Yes, we own a 40 foot flatbed trailer. We also have a small utility trailer. It is important to note that we also live in the "semi-country", and so this is not an uncommon thing to see...trailers on one's property.
But, these are no ordinary neighbors! Nope. These are *those* kind of neighbors. Our "Welcome to the neighborhood" party consisted of a Police Cruiser and a polite officer telling us that while our trailer was legally parked, one of our neighbors had been driving the department crazy with daily calls to complain about the trailer. (Wasn't that nice of them?!) The kind officer even had a suggestion, park the trailer on the area next to the driveway; even though that parking arrangement wasn't technically legal according to the ordinances of Small Town, it might help the neighbor feel a little bit better about the situation and make them stop calling.
Apparantly, that didn't work, and the squeaky wheel DOES get the grease.
My Hubster is a patient man. But once his patience are used up, there is no reserve. Mom of All Trades Street was littered with no less than two trailers and four vehicles by Satruday afternoon. All legally parked, and stratigically placed so that all traffic must slow down and slolom carefully through, one car at a time. I hid the poster board and markers so that Hubster couldn't carry out the second part of his diabolical plan. B *can* read now, and I don't have any desire to be defining *those* words for my six and seven year old any time soon. When Hubster goes to work, I'll carry out the plan devised by my dad, and simply write the words: "BITE ME" in shoe polish on the windows. Why should I let him have all the fun?
Just in case you all missed it, the world fell off it's axis last Friday. Our three cows, who were no doubt coerced by our mule, escaped from their comfy pasture and were roaming the dead end country road in Small Town, Texas. Somehow, the neighbors living up and down the street must've not noticed our animals living there for the past three years, since no one knew where they were supposed to be. Oh, they knew the name of the owners, and apparantly, my phone number as well, since the friendly Sherriff's Department called and left no fewer than 5 messages informing us that the animals had escaped, and judging by the breathlessness of those messages, were running wild up and down the northern part of Texas. Sherriff-ing must not pay what it used to, or we must have one b-o-r-i-n-g little town. I'm no genius, but it seems to me that the easiest way to solve the problem would have been to open the gate to their pasture and let them back in. A little grain + an open gate= animal's happy to follow you to the ends of the earth. Instead, our friendly Sherriff's department, (which, by the way, has it's own "Posse", we are in Texas, remember) decided that it would be much easier to put the animals into a trailer and take them "downtown".
*Snort* Anyone who's herded cattle is probably laughing right along with me at this point....None the less, they did succeed in catching the mule and dragged him off to mule jail, but after much huffing and puffing on the part of our friendly sherriff's department, they were unable to capture the cows, and instead ran them off into...well, the vast wilderness of the rural country neighborhood, I suppose. Upon returning home from a three day stint housesitting for my perfect BIL, we discovered this sorry state of affairs and spent Friday evening rounding up our smart cows who escaped the evil clutches of the law, and most of Saturday bailing our stupid mule out of mule jail, and fixing the fence so that they couldn't put on a repeat performance.
But that is not all! Oh no! That is not all!
There was another message from our landlord, a kind man whom we've been happy to rent from, telling us that he had received a certified letter from the City of Small Town. In my experience, that's never a good thing. So during the great cattle round up of 2006, I repeatedly called his home trying to get ahold of him.
I'm kinda crazy like that. I hate *not knowing*. I can't sleep. It eats me up if I don't *know*.
So I finally got ahold of him and he told me that a neighbor had made a complaint about the condition of the property, specifically: Brush piled in the yard, automobile parts, and trailers parked in front of the residence. The complaint about the trailers gave it away. The "brush" was actually tree limbs from a long overdue "tree hair-cut" that we had trimmed one weekend, and cut up into firewood the next. Wasn't even there by the time the certified letter arrived. The automobile parts consist of the front clip of a 1981 Ford that was brought over by a well intentioned friend to replace parts damaged by a teenage son, 3 "parts" in all. But the trailers! That made me laugh. Yes, we own a 40 foot flatbed trailer. We also have a small utility trailer. It is important to note that we also live in the "semi-country", and so this is not an uncommon thing to see...trailers on one's property.
But, these are no ordinary neighbors! Nope. These are *those* kind of neighbors. Our "Welcome to the neighborhood" party consisted of a Police Cruiser and a polite officer telling us that while our trailer was legally parked, one of our neighbors had been driving the department crazy with daily calls to complain about the trailer. (Wasn't that nice of them?!) The kind officer even had a suggestion, park the trailer on the area next to the driveway; even though that parking arrangement wasn't technically legal according to the ordinances of Small Town, it might help the neighbor feel a little bit better about the situation and make them stop calling.
Apparantly, that didn't work, and the squeaky wheel DOES get the grease.
My Hubster is a patient man. But once his patience are used up, there is no reserve. Mom of All Trades Street was littered with no less than two trailers and four vehicles by Satruday afternoon. All legally parked, and stratigically placed so that all traffic must slow down and slolom carefully through, one car at a time. I hid the poster board and markers so that Hubster couldn't carry out the second part of his diabolical plan. B *can* read now, and I don't have any desire to be defining *those* words for my six and seven year old any time soon. When Hubster goes to work, I'll carry out the plan devised by my dad, and simply write the words: "BITE ME" in shoe polish on the windows. Why should I let him have all the fun?
Friday, June 09, 2006
Renewal of Spirit
I have said before that it seems as though life moves in cycles. Everyone experiences and talks about "life's' ups and downs", and maybe that's true for them, but I rather picture life as going along in a horizontal motion rather than a perpendicular one, stretched out across the timeline of our existence that stretches from infinity to infinity. And instead of the wheel spinning up and down, I picture it moving along that line, and spinning us like the Egg Beater ride at the fair, round and round as we travel down the timeline to our destiny.
The last two and a half years of my life have felt like we were at the back of the cycle, several yards back from where we had originally progressed, and caught in the g-force that was pushing us back. But every once in a while, I catch the glimmer of progression that seems to indicate that we are about to regain what has been lost, and progress further along the path of life than we have heretofore adventured.
I have spent the last few days ironing out what our life might be like in the next year, and two years, in terms of my husband's employment, my going back to school, and our plans with respect to homeschool. It appears as though the school schedule will allow me to still homeschool B and K. I hope I'm not kidding myself here, but I really think that I can structure my time to provide a quality education for both my children and myself. Having the support and help from my husband in both these endeavors is amazing.
The crowning moment in this new cycle of moving forward came in regard to homeschool.
I've spent the last two days researching curriculum and formulating a plan that goes beyond "if I can get them through this year and not screw up". Anyone who homeschools knows the self-doubt that can go along with undertaking sole responsibility of educating your children. I found a quote today in my research that hit me like a ton of bricks and was the cherry on-top of my freshly renewed excitement and dedication to homeschooling:
The object and design of education is Liberty!
* We teach morality so they will be free from vice.
* We teach literacy so they will be free from ignorance.
* We teach economics to free them from financial bondage.
How true and noble this statement rings! My desire that my children be classically educated by me, in our home has always felt like the right thing to do. The resistance we've met along the way, which felt devastating at first, just melts away when I remember that the education path we've chosen for our children will give them a childhood filled with classical literature, opportunity to think about math as more than problems on a page, a firm grasp on the details of the History of the World, and the opportunity to explore their world and their place in it.
My first and second grader absolutely lit up as we read the Washington Irving version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I think it really says something about the opportunities afforded by teaching your own children, that as we meandered our way through the unfamiliar syntax and verbiage, we had talks about slavery, learning, descriptive writing, and the feelings of others. I think a great many people would dismiss this incredible work as far too advanced for children this age, instead feeding the child a watered down version with far fewer descriptives and a simplified plot. With little guidance from me, they not only *got* the story, they got excited about it, and wanted to spend extra time talking to me about it, with B even calling me to his bedside to whisper his questions and theories to me in the dark. I have no doubt that their learning and excitement is something that I wouldn't give away for all the world. The impact we have on our children is so incredibly vital to who they become and how they function in the world around them.
So through teaching my children today; amid the piles of laundry, the sinks full of dirty dishes and the never ending cycle of chores that goes into maintaining a home and family, I rediscovered the joy and excitement of parenting. The fact that I get to be these beautiful children's MOM! I'm so excited I could just pee myself!
The last two and a half years of my life have felt like we were at the back of the cycle, several yards back from where we had originally progressed, and caught in the g-force that was pushing us back. But every once in a while, I catch the glimmer of progression that seems to indicate that we are about to regain what has been lost, and progress further along the path of life than we have heretofore adventured.
I have spent the last few days ironing out what our life might be like in the next year, and two years, in terms of my husband's employment, my going back to school, and our plans with respect to homeschool. It appears as though the school schedule will allow me to still homeschool B and K. I hope I'm not kidding myself here, but I really think that I can structure my time to provide a quality education for both my children and myself. Having the support and help from my husband in both these endeavors is amazing.
The crowning moment in this new cycle of moving forward came in regard to homeschool.
I've spent the last two days researching curriculum and formulating a plan that goes beyond "if I can get them through this year and not screw up". Anyone who homeschools knows the self-doubt that can go along with undertaking sole responsibility of educating your children. I found a quote today in my research that hit me like a ton of bricks and was the cherry on-top of my freshly renewed excitement and dedication to homeschooling:
The object and design of education is Liberty!
* We teach morality so they will be free from vice.
* We teach literacy so they will be free from ignorance.
* We teach economics to free them from financial bondage.
How true and noble this statement rings! My desire that my children be classically educated by me, in our home has always felt like the right thing to do. The resistance we've met along the way, which felt devastating at first, just melts away when I remember that the education path we've chosen for our children will give them a childhood filled with classical literature, opportunity to think about math as more than problems on a page, a firm grasp on the details of the History of the World, and the opportunity to explore their world and their place in it.
My first and second grader absolutely lit up as we read the Washington Irving version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I think it really says something about the opportunities afforded by teaching your own children, that as we meandered our way through the unfamiliar syntax and verbiage, we had talks about slavery, learning, descriptive writing, and the feelings of others. I think a great many people would dismiss this incredible work as far too advanced for children this age, instead feeding the child a watered down version with far fewer descriptives and a simplified plot. With little guidance from me, they not only *got* the story, they got excited about it, and wanted to spend extra time talking to me about it, with B even calling me to his bedside to whisper his questions and theories to me in the dark. I have no doubt that their learning and excitement is something that I wouldn't give away for all the world. The impact we have on our children is so incredibly vital to who they become and how they function in the world around them.
So through teaching my children today; amid the piles of laundry, the sinks full of dirty dishes and the never ending cycle of chores that goes into maintaining a home and family, I rediscovered the joy and excitement of parenting. The fact that I get to be these beautiful children's MOM! I'm so excited I could just pee myself!
Monday, June 05, 2006
Letting the Cat Out of the Bag
OK. So I know that breaking news isn't supposed to be done on your blog, but, I'm kind of a renegade that way. Besides, the only people it's really a secret from, is my parents.
So to the titles of; Wife, Mother, Bookeeper, Chauffer, Part-Time/Occasional Work From Home Dispatcher, Groundskeeper, Housekeeper and Blog Lady Extraordinare, I add the title of: Student.
See? I really am Mom of All Trades.
Yes Mom and Dad, you read that right.
I'm starting college.
Really and for sure.
I was gonna wait and tell you once I graduated, but I figured you might not believe me.
I didn't start out thinking "Gee, I ought to go to college". I told my parents when I was in seventh grade that I wasn't going to go to college. And I've really been quite OK with my decision. It hasn't really prevented me from doing anything I wanted to do...no degree required for changing diapers and wiping noses!
Anyhow, I was just going to fill out a FAFSA for myself and see if I qualified, since I was doing them for E and M anyway. But I wasn't going to college. I went ahead and filled out the application to go, but I wasn't going to college. I took the COMPASS test, but I wasn't going to college. I went to freshman orientation, OK, yeah, I might be "taking some classes". But today, oh today. I sealed my fate and registered for fall semester. A whole 16 hours worth of classes made their way onto my schedule. I guess that means I'm going to college.
And the schedule I managed to procure (see, sounding smart already!) should allow me to continue homeschooling the kids AND not disrupt the life of my family and friends to a great degree.
So, high ho, high ho, it's off to school I go!
So to the titles of; Wife, Mother, Bookeeper, Chauffer, Part-Time/Occasional Work From Home Dispatcher, Groundskeeper, Housekeeper and Blog Lady Extraordinare, I add the title of: Student.
See? I really am Mom of All Trades.
Yes Mom and Dad, you read that right.
I'm starting college.
Really and for sure.
I was gonna wait and tell you once I graduated, but I figured you might not believe me.
I didn't start out thinking "Gee, I ought to go to college". I told my parents when I was in seventh grade that I wasn't going to go to college. And I've really been quite OK with my decision. It hasn't really prevented me from doing anything I wanted to do...no degree required for changing diapers and wiping noses!
Anyhow, I was just going to fill out a FAFSA for myself and see if I qualified, since I was doing them for E and M anyway. But I wasn't going to college. I went ahead and filled out the application to go, but I wasn't going to college. I took the COMPASS test, but I wasn't going to college. I went to freshman orientation, OK, yeah, I might be "taking some classes". But today, oh today. I sealed my fate and registered for fall semester. A whole 16 hours worth of classes made their way onto my schedule. I guess that means I'm going to college.
And the schedule I managed to procure (see, sounding smart already!) should allow me to continue homeschooling the kids AND not disrupt the life of my family and friends to a great degree.
So, high ho, high ho, it's off to school I go!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
My Secret is Out
Guess it would help if I'd BLOG once in a while, huh?! LOL I've been worn out and tired from the trip and then trying to get the three ring circus back on track now that I'm home.
So. Yeah. DYM is the super special celebrity blogger I got to meet and hang with! Since you all pretty much read her blog way before mine, you probably already know all about that! LOL She has a post up from two days ago that is makin' me feel all famous and stuff! She was one of the origional three blogs I got hooked on and gave me the idea that, I too, could blog with the big dogs. It was so fun to meet her and her cute kids. I didn't get to meet Snow White, but I got an even better treat; I got to meet the "REAL" Laylee, she told me she wasn't Snow White yet, because her Snow White dress was dirty and her mom had to wash it. The kids fed the gulls and pigeons at the beach and Daring and I flapped our gums, only pausing long enough to rescue the kids from jumping off the seawall. And, yes, I am so proud of my stalker status. I really did fly across the country AND walk three miles to meet her. I'll make sure and let you know when I'm coming to *YOUR* town...or should I say "a town near you"?
I mean no offense to my Seattle readers by pointing out the colorful freakiness of the inhabitants of your great city. Really. It's just that In my two weeks of travel, I have come to the conclusion that I need a discreet way of taking pictures of people I come across. The table full of "alternate lifestyle living men" dancing to "Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend was Hot Like Me" at a Pizza Hut in Moab is a prime example. That's definately some bloggable stuff. The people I come across in my travels are as much a part of the experience for me as the destination it's self. At the risk of being totally un-PC, it's good to have a belly laugh wondering if that guy over there thought he looked good in his shorty-shorts when he put them on this morning. Sorry, but if you attract attention, you might attract mine and I might laugh at you. Pay no attention to me, I don't get out much and I really can't help myself.
While in Washington, I got to tour some of their lovely temperate rainforest. Huge-o-normous trees and lots of green every where you go. Here are some favorite shots:
I really did take those! Aren't they great! Especially the waterfall pictures, they look like a postcard.
My sister is getting married at the fabulous Lake Quinalt Resort. It's a quiet, intimate place with limited space and unlimited hospitality. I ran across some very unfavorable reviews of the place on-line before my trip, particularly regarding the owners tolerance of children. I was skeered. But, wait! Nope. John was GREAT! Beyond great! He was so friendly, and when diaper duty (or should I say doody?) left me with a "package" un-suitable for and indoor trash, he saw me looking around for a trash, jumped up from his cozy chair, and graciously took the offending package uphill, in the rain, to the dumpster. How's THAT for service?! I was totally impressed. Here are some shots from that lovely location:
Some shots of the city from Gas Works Park, and the Freaky People Fest:
And then I just wouldn't be a good parent if I didn't post some sickeningly sweet pictures of my offspring on her first large scale adventure:
Whew! Tired yet? Life-a-la-boring comin' at ya next week!
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