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.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
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!
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Can I PLEASE Go Home Now?
A week is just a very, very, very long time to be away from life. It's even longer when the week is shared with people who don't have kids and keep saying things about not ever having kids. I know. I said it first, but I was joking. I've discovered that there are lots of reasons my sister and I haven't spent much time together in the last ten or so years. I'm probably on their last nerve too, so no hard feelings.
Seattle! My sister and her uber cool fiancee have done a fabulous job showing me around their strange and colorful city. There's a whole lotta freaky people 'round here! And I'm beginning to think the person who coined the phrase "Texas Friendly" was probably from here. And that person is probably dead. Dead from the shock of being around people who don't swear at you and use the one finger salute at every opportunity! People here are pretty intense. We attended the Folklife Festival downtown this weekend where I realized that I could have brought my frumpy mommy uniforms, complete with mismatched socks and non-color co-ordinated sweats and fit in better than I did in the carefully chosen "cute" clothes I dredged up to bring instead. In fact, I could have worn my socks on my hands and my bra on the outside of my shirt and been the height of Seattle-Freaky-People fashion. But hey, where else can you watch a half naked, afro wearing, silk scarf waving, has to be on something, old geezer guy dance to a live bluegrass band in the rain? I'm really not complaining at all, the visit here has been an interesting cultural experience. I've eaten some great seafood, seen some beautiful architecture, both man-made and natural, and had my horizons broadened. Who could ask for more?
When I get home, and back to the land of CABLE INTERNET *insert screaming happy banshee dance here* I'll upload some pictures, including some from my afternoon with a BLOG CELEBRITY!!! I can't wait to get back, catch up on everyone's blog-thangs and see how you all have been doing!
Seattle! My sister and her uber cool fiancee have done a fabulous job showing me around their strange and colorful city. There's a whole lotta freaky people 'round here! And I'm beginning to think the person who coined the phrase "Texas Friendly" was probably from here. And that person is probably dead. Dead from the shock of being around people who don't swear at you and use the one finger salute at every opportunity! People here are pretty intense. We attended the Folklife Festival downtown this weekend where I realized that I could have brought my frumpy mommy uniforms, complete with mismatched socks and non-color co-ordinated sweats and fit in better than I did in the carefully chosen "cute" clothes I dredged up to bring instead. In fact, I could have worn my socks on my hands and my bra on the outside of my shirt and been the height of Seattle-Freaky-People fashion. But hey, where else can you watch a half naked, afro wearing, silk scarf waving, has to be on something, old geezer guy dance to a live bluegrass band in the rain? I'm really not complaining at all, the visit here has been an interesting cultural experience. I've eaten some great seafood, seen some beautiful architecture, both man-made and natural, and had my horizons broadened. Who could ask for more?
When I get home, and back to the land of CABLE INTERNET *insert screaming happy banshee dance here* I'll upload some pictures, including some from my afternoon with a BLOG CELEBRITY!!! I can't wait to get back, catch up on everyone's blog-thangs and see how you all have been doing!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
The Green Ones Count
We made the flight in fine shape. J just picked out a nice, grandmotherly type who seemed encouraging and willing to play with her, crawled up on her lap, and went to sleep. Does that count as a Works for Me Wednesday? Wisdom Wednesday? Let your child talk to strangers, crawl up in their lap and go to sleep. No? Well, it was worth a shot.
The schedule sabatoge has served to eliminate her normal appetite. I usually don't worry much about if they eat or not, I figure, they aren't going to starve, if they want to eat, they will. But yesterday, we were going on day three of food strike and in a desperate attempt to kickstart her appetite, I fed my child M&M's...for lunch. Technically, when you think about it, there *is* "green" in there...right?
Now if she doesn't scare my sister out of the idea of having children, ever, we'll get this wedding show on the road.
The schedule sabatoge has served to eliminate her normal appetite. I usually don't worry much about if they eat or not, I figure, they aren't going to starve, if they want to eat, they will. But yesterday, we were going on day three of food strike and in a desperate attempt to kickstart her appetite, I fed my child M&M's...for lunch. Technically, when you think about it, there *is* "green" in there...right?
Now if she doesn't scare my sister out of the idea of having children, ever, we'll get this wedding show on the road.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
"Mommeeee, Mommeeee, Mommeeee"
Dearest little one,
You are working hard at expanding your vocabulary. Recently, Mommaaa, has become, Mommeeeee. However, repeating this word over, and over, and over, and over for the past 5 days has driven me to the brink of my sanity. You sing it when you are playing,you yell it at the top of your lungs when I am out of your sight, shout it when I'm standing right in front of you, and most especially, repeat it in the car. Considering we've just spent over 36 hours in.a.car together, I think you need to refrain from using this particular word for the next five days. I am your mother. Even though you've driven me crazy, I'm still able to see cuteness in the maniacle grin you give me when I finally lose it and shout "SHUT UP!!!", but I'm betting the other passengers on our 6 hour flight will NOT agree with that assessment and unless you'd like to find yourself tossed off the plane somewhere over Idaho, I'd recommend you either stop speaking for now, or expand your one word vocabulary to include something clever and funny to say when they open the hatch.
Sincerely,
Your Mommeeee
You are working hard at expanding your vocabulary. Recently, Mommaaa, has become, Mommeeeee. However, repeating this word over, and over, and over, and over for the past 5 days has driven me to the brink of my sanity. You sing it when you are playing,you yell it at the top of your lungs when I am out of your sight, shout it when I'm standing right in front of you, and most especially, repeat it in the car. Considering we've just spent over 36 hours in.a.car together, I think you need to refrain from using this particular word for the next five days. I am your mother. Even though you've driven me crazy, I'm still able to see cuteness in the maniacle grin you give me when I finally lose it and shout "SHUT UP!!!", but I'm betting the other passengers on our 6 hour flight will NOT agree with that assessment and unless you'd like to find yourself tossed off the plane somewhere over Idaho, I'd recommend you either stop speaking for now, or expand your one word vocabulary to include something clever and funny to say when they open the hatch.
Sincerely,
Your Mommeeee
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Incredible Days
Hard, but incredible. Saturday, we gathered at the funeral home to make arrangements, and in traditional L Family fashion, the somberness was lightened by someone making a silly remark, and it was increasingly better and better after that.
I was so fortunate and honored to be asked, with my perfect SIL, to join the three sisters in dressing D for burial. It was without question one of the most profoundly spiritual experiences of my life. I will privately journalize the details of this experience, if you need to read it someday, feel free to ask, but for general viewing, I choose not to share it just now. I will say, initially, it was very difficult for us all to see her that way. But as we gathered ourselves and set about the business at hand, it was a beautiful, peaceful gathering and we all felt an incredible oneness with her, with each other, and I daresay, with the Lord. When we finished, she was so beautiful, and the five of us had bonded with each other in a way we never expected. We found the experience to be like balm for the wound in our hearts.
Several prayers were offered that day, my incredible FIL shared with us his powerful and enduring testimony. There were many tears, and everyone's emotions were like raw, open sores. But the ability to laugh and find comfort provided balance and the day was an incredibly healing and peaceful experience.
The Bishop that serves the ward (congregation) was present and offered a family prayer, and before leaving, this kind and loving servant of the Lord authorized a private sacrament meeting to be held in my BIL's home today. He recognized that coming to the regular meeting on Mother's Day would be difficult on the family under the circumstances, and due to his insight and thoughtfulness, the family was able to have what may prove a once in a lifetime experience that was just exactly what we all needed.
We will travel to UT to bury my MIL on Wed. I have no doubt that the Lord will continue to attend us during our preparations and journey. This hasn't been easy, but growing almost never is. It has proved to bring us all closer as a family, and I'm so grateful to be a part of it. Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. It really does mean a lot to all of us.
I was so fortunate and honored to be asked, with my perfect SIL, to join the three sisters in dressing D for burial. It was without question one of the most profoundly spiritual experiences of my life. I will privately journalize the details of this experience, if you need to read it someday, feel free to ask, but for general viewing, I choose not to share it just now. I will say, initially, it was very difficult for us all to see her that way. But as we gathered ourselves and set about the business at hand, it was a beautiful, peaceful gathering and we all felt an incredible oneness with her, with each other, and I daresay, with the Lord. When we finished, she was so beautiful, and the five of us had bonded with each other in a way we never expected. We found the experience to be like balm for the wound in our hearts.
Several prayers were offered that day, my incredible FIL shared with us his powerful and enduring testimony. There were many tears, and everyone's emotions were like raw, open sores. But the ability to laugh and find comfort provided balance and the day was an incredibly healing and peaceful experience.
The Bishop that serves the ward (congregation) was present and offered a family prayer, and before leaving, this kind and loving servant of the Lord authorized a private sacrament meeting to be held in my BIL's home today. He recognized that coming to the regular meeting on Mother's Day would be difficult on the family under the circumstances, and due to his insight and thoughtfulness, the family was able to have what may prove a once in a lifetime experience that was just exactly what we all needed.
We will travel to UT to bury my MIL on Wed. I have no doubt that the Lord will continue to attend us during our preparations and journey. This hasn't been easy, but growing almost never is. It has proved to bring us all closer as a family, and I'm so grateful to be a part of it. Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. It really does mean a lot to all of us.
Friday, May 12, 2006
The Surreal Life
It's always a strange feeling to wake up the day after a major event. When you first open your eyes, you wonder if it was real, and as your brain begins to function, you begin to move forward with what comes next.
I'm so grateful for the great plan of our Father in Heaven. It is beautiful in it's simplicity and comforting in it's promise. The kids have done very well with the news and have spent lots of time talking about their feelings today. I am grateful for their testimony's, which, at times, seem more vast and steadfast than my own.
The rest of the family is gathering, and preparations are being made. I'm honored to have been asked to help with preparations, I know that will be a tender experience which I've not had before, and I thank you all for the kind comments.
I'm so grateful for the great plan of our Father in Heaven. It is beautiful in it's simplicity and comforting in it's promise. The kids have done very well with the news and have spent lots of time talking about their feelings today. I am grateful for their testimony's, which, at times, seem more vast and steadfast than my own.
The rest of the family is gathering, and preparations are being made. I'm honored to have been asked to help with preparations, I know that will be a tender experience which I've not had before, and I thank you all for the kind comments.
The Part Where Everything Comes to a Stop
Hubster's mom just passed away. It's been coming, but we had reason to hope it would be a bit farther out. My heart is breaking to think I'm not with my husband right now. Rand wanted the older children told right away, which I have done, and now I'm struggling with knowing I'll have to tell the younger kids in a few hours. I don't know what else to say or do right now. So I guess this is where I wait.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
I'm a bloggin fool today
If I were ever to resign myself to using the non-word "ya'll" as a word, I'd say that my blogging binge is to make up for the time ya'll will be missing me while I'm gone to visit my sister. (But I have to force myself to use the non-word ya'll and even had to erase "you guys" when I intended to use the non-word ya'll on.purpose.)
Now where was I going with this? Oh, yes, I discovered an awesomely funny new blog and Sabra's story gave me a blast from the past I thought I'd record for B and share with you all. (See, it's two words, and never the two should appear with an apostrophe)
B Learns to Pee
( I thought that up myself ;O) )
4 summers ago, Hubster was working in the town where my in-laws live and since their house was basically empty and there was no school age children here to shuffle, we got to go stay with him. One night, we took the kids to the park to play and were basking in the glow of each other's company as B and K played. K was about to turn two and B was three. They were playing on a grassy hill with some other children, and nearby, was the port-a-potty style rest room. B hollered to us to ask if it was OK to go potty. We said sure, thinking, "it's right there in front of us, only has room for one person, yeah, that'll be safe." I turned my attention to K when my husband started to laugh and said, "Look at your boy." There he was, in the middle of the grassy knoll, peeing. And he'd not yet mastered the intricate art of using the zip fly in his jeans for it's intended use. So, there was my kid, pants around his ankles, just a' peein', right in the middle of the kids, the park, the other parents.
Which just reminded me of another blog worthy occasion which happened pre-blog, but needs preservation as well. Lets call this one:
How to Embarrass Your Older Brothers 101
( I thought of that all on my own too, I am on a roll)
When we first moved here and I wasn't so jaded and torn down by life, I volunteered for stuff. I was on the board for the Wrestling BOoster Club and found myself in charge of the end of year banquet. We did a great job, and had a wonderful turnout. I was seated at the head table with K in the highchair next to me, facing out over the crowd, and listening to the Coach call one of my sons to the podium for "the" award of the night. I'm clapping and shooting photo's and suddenly become aware of laughter. Lots of very loud guffawing and howling. My friend seated next to me pointed and said "Look at your boy." And there was B, wild eyed, nekkid from the waist down and laughing like a maniac, fueled by the delight of the crowd. I'm usually really great in front of a crowd, but I distinctly remember the getting the feeling that my cheeks had just been sunburned in the worst way as I walked that long walk of shame to collect my giggling child and his pants from another mom who was straggling along behind him, panting, saying "I tried to stop him, but he just laughed and went around me."
Now where was I going with this? Oh, yes, I discovered an awesomely funny new blog and Sabra's story gave me a blast from the past I thought I'd record for B and share with you all. (See, it's two words, and never the two should appear with an apostrophe)
B Learns to Pee
( I thought that up myself ;O) )
4 summers ago, Hubster was working in the town where my in-laws live and since their house was basically empty and there was no school age children here to shuffle, we got to go stay with him. One night, we took the kids to the park to play and were basking in the glow of each other's company as B and K played. K was about to turn two and B was three. They were playing on a grassy hill with some other children, and nearby, was the port-a-potty style rest room. B hollered to us to ask if it was OK to go potty. We said sure, thinking, "it's right there in front of us, only has room for one person, yeah, that'll be safe." I turned my attention to K when my husband started to laugh and said, "Look at your boy." There he was, in the middle of the grassy knoll, peeing. And he'd not yet mastered the intricate art of using the zip fly in his jeans for it's intended use. So, there was my kid, pants around his ankles, just a' peein', right in the middle of the kids, the park, the other parents.
Which just reminded me of another blog worthy occasion which happened pre-blog, but needs preservation as well. Lets call this one:
How to Embarrass Your Older Brothers 101
( I thought of that all on my own too, I am on a roll)
When we first moved here and I wasn't so jaded and torn down by life, I volunteered for stuff. I was on the board for the Wrestling BOoster Club and found myself in charge of the end of year banquet. We did a great job, and had a wonderful turnout. I was seated at the head table with K in the highchair next to me, facing out over the crowd, and listening to the Coach call one of my sons to the podium for "the" award of the night. I'm clapping and shooting photo's and suddenly become aware of laughter. Lots of very loud guffawing and howling. My friend seated next to me pointed and said "Look at your boy." And there was B, wild eyed, nekkid from the waist down and laughing like a maniac, fueled by the delight of the crowd. I'm usually really great in front of a crowd, but I distinctly remember the getting the feeling that my cheeks had just been sunburned in the worst way as I walked that long walk of shame to collect my giggling child and his pants from another mom who was straggling along behind him, panting, saying "I tried to stop him, but he just laughed and went around me."
I'm annoying and I was attacked
Wanna know the best way to get people ticked off at you in WalMart? Take your kids, fill your cart, go to the self-checkout lane, scan your stuff, realize you've forgotten your debit card, scrounge for cash, run out of cash, scrounge for quarters, run out of quarters, scrounge for dimes, kick machine for eating three of your dimes, run out of dimes, scrounge for nickels, run out of nickles, pay the remaining .51 in.pennies. Yeah. I was *that* lady today. *sigh*
No, my attack wasn't a result of the afore mentioned incident, but I thought I'd preserve for posterity what happens when a toddler runs into your face with their mouth open.
Gearing up for Blast off
I'm trying really hard to get the house under control and all the loose ends tied up so I can leave for SIX WHOLE DAYS next week. SIX WHOLE DAYS is a long time to leave a life such as mine. Well, at least I feel needed.
Stephanie tagged me and since I did the Four things thing not too long ago, I'll do the Two things:
Two for Togetherness Tag
2 things you compliment your husband on while in his presence.
1. What a great Dad he is
2. How funny he is
2 compliments you make about your spouse to your friends about your spouse.
1. He's so supportive
2. He treates me like a queen
2 traits you married him/her for.
1. His sweet nature
2. His unwavering beliefs
2 Days you cherished the most with your husband being together.
1. Our first trip to Houston
2. Our Honeymoon
2 Material things you could give your husband if you just inherited a fortune.
1. A brand new clinic
2. A bird hunting ranch
2 things you would miss the most if she/he left for two weeks.
1. No help with kids so I can do errands
2. No help with laundry
2 thoughts that crossed your mind when you first met/saw your spouse.
1. He is super smart
2. He has great kids
2 favorite dates
1. Going to the driving range and scrounging for T's to hit balls off
2. Going to the History and Science Museum
2 funny odd things you love.
1. The funny sound he makes in the shower.
2. When he bursts into song, loudly and off key
2 two places you have lived with your spouse.
1. The house we built together
2. Our dream house
2 favorite Vacations
1. San Fransisco
2. South Dakota
I tag
JD
Katheryn
Nettie
Maine Mom
Stephanie tagged me and since I did the Four things thing not too long ago, I'll do the Two things:
Two for Togetherness Tag
2 things you compliment your husband on while in his presence.
1. What a great Dad he is
2. How funny he is
2 compliments you make about your spouse to your friends about your spouse.
1. He's so supportive
2. He treates me like a queen
2 traits you married him/her for.
1. His sweet nature
2. His unwavering beliefs
2 Days you cherished the most with your husband being together.
1. Our first trip to Houston
2. Our Honeymoon
2 Material things you could give your husband if you just inherited a fortune.
1. A brand new clinic
2. A bird hunting ranch
2 things you would miss the most if she/he left for two weeks.
1. No help with kids so I can do errands
2. No help with laundry
2 thoughts that crossed your mind when you first met/saw your spouse.
1. He is super smart
2. He has great kids
2 favorite dates
1. Going to the driving range and scrounging for T's to hit balls off
2. Going to the History and Science Museum
2 funny odd things you love.
1. The funny sound he makes in the shower.
2. When he bursts into song, loudly and off key
2 two places you have lived with your spouse.
1. The house we built together
2. Our dream house
2 favorite Vacations
1. San Fransisco
2. South Dakota
I tag
JD
Katheryn
Nettie
Maine Mom
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Wisdom Wednesday-Prepare. Prepare! Prepare?
They say a mother's work is never done. And it's true that once you bring a child into the world, a little peice of that new person will always be "your baby". But there comes a time when they have to go off into the world and just like a good buisness person, a wise parent needs to have an exit plan.
The first time we encountered this was as our oldest, M, was contemplating his upcoming graduation and trying to decide what his next step was going to be. To be completely honest with you, it sort of snuck up on us all. M had been prepared from the time he was a little shaver, to serve a full time mission for our church when he turned 19. Most of the boys do that, and he had assumed that he would do that as well....until. Ah, the dreaded until. Sometime around December-ish of his senior year, M started wondering if he really wanted to go after all. We counciled him to pray about the matter, and start checking out what his other choices were. He started to get a little apatheic about the whole thing and one day, he and I sat down with a peice of paper and I let him know what he could expect in several scenarios. Much to M's surprise, Mom and Dad weren't going to pay for a bachelor pad, tutition and books, and yes, the military is an honest to goodness option for EVERYONE, including somewhat spoiled golden boys who've had it pretty easy up to now. When he realized that real life was about to smack him full in the face, he opted to go on a mission.
He had a good experience serving in the church, and he'll never regret going, but in all honesty, some of his decision was based on what he thought his parents wanted. While obedience is a good thing in most cases, and it turned out all right in this case, it's really not a good way to make adult decisions.
Much of the friction between my parents and my self came to glaring clarity as we guided our second son, E, through his last two years of highschool. I know we've raised good kids. I was also a good kid growing up, and I value so many of the things I was taught growing up, that I passed them along to my own kids. But something in the back of my mind kept nagging at me with E. Every kid needs different things from their parents, and what works with one kid, may not work with another. E reminded me so much of myself at that age. Very head strong, but basically making good enough choices to get by, and a willingness to learn on his own and take responsibility for his actions. This is where things get sticky. We all have to make adjustments to the things our parents did for us as kids, and trying to treat E the way I wished my parents had treated me during my high-school years was the hardest thing I've done as a parent. Relinquishing control while the child is still a child, and living in your home, is a very fine balancing act, indeed. This child needed more space than his brother, and now was not the time to teach or preach obedience.
Like M, E had decided to serve a mission upon graduation. Due to the circumstances during his last two years, he was much more adament about his intentions and repeatedly assured us that nothing was going to change his mind. Well, guess who ended up accepting an athletic scholarship instead of serving a mission? I found myself in the exact same position, two years later, of having to prepare a son with the facts of what we would and wouldn't be able to provide once he graduated high school. Needless to say, it wasn't quite what he was expecting, and as a result, led to some pretty hard feelings.
So having been twice burned, I am moving forward in preparing D for her graduation in two years. She has been very keen on listening to lots of people's collective wisdom in choosing her career path and school options. Hopefully, knowing that the gravy train in this house stops when you complete high school, very early on, will help her make plans accordingly, and make the transition much smother than it has been with her brothers. Her father and I have also decided to let her know starting now, what she might expect in terms of help paying for her eventual wedding. (Sometime in the very, very distant future ;O) )
I think that by providing our children very early on with a clear picture of what to expect, and in very specific, concise terms, we provide them with the tools they need to successfully transition out of the nest with as little frusteration and hardship as possible. I distinctly recall feeling somewhat betrayed when I wasn't sure I wanted to start college, but my parents were pretty insistent I do just that. When I finally gave in and started checking into what it was going to take financially for me to enroll, I was shocked to find that my family wasn't going to pay for school and I was pretty much on my own with it.
I'm not saying that parents should pay for college, in fact, I'm very much for kids having to make all the choices involved with where they school, where they live while they attend school and be responsible for paying their own tuition, books, fees, and if they decide they don't want to live at home to save expenses, then they also need to figure out how to pay for that! I think it helps them make conservative choices, appreciate their education and overall, it empowers them to know that they are capable of taking care of themselves. But I've been shown, three times now, in technicolor detail, that it is unfair and shocking to be brought to the deck of the boat and told that there's no ferry to the shore for you, you are expected to swim.
So call me dumb, but there's my short comings posted for all of you to see. They are what they are, and the best I can do is to improve the job I do with each child. If it gives you some food for thought, even just reminds you of what you already know, then, my work here is done. And *that* is this weeks' Wisdom Wednesday.
The first time we encountered this was as our oldest, M, was contemplating his upcoming graduation and trying to decide what his next step was going to be. To be completely honest with you, it sort of snuck up on us all. M had been prepared from the time he was a little shaver, to serve a full time mission for our church when he turned 19. Most of the boys do that, and he had assumed that he would do that as well....until. Ah, the dreaded until. Sometime around December-ish of his senior year, M started wondering if he really wanted to go after all. We counciled him to pray about the matter, and start checking out what his other choices were. He started to get a little apatheic about the whole thing and one day, he and I sat down with a peice of paper and I let him know what he could expect in several scenarios. Much to M's surprise, Mom and Dad weren't going to pay for a bachelor pad, tutition and books, and yes, the military is an honest to goodness option for EVERYONE, including somewhat spoiled golden boys who've had it pretty easy up to now. When he realized that real life was about to smack him full in the face, he opted to go on a mission.
He had a good experience serving in the church, and he'll never regret going, but in all honesty, some of his decision was based on what he thought his parents wanted. While obedience is a good thing in most cases, and it turned out all right in this case, it's really not a good way to make adult decisions.
Much of the friction between my parents and my self came to glaring clarity as we guided our second son, E, through his last two years of highschool. I know we've raised good kids. I was also a good kid growing up, and I value so many of the things I was taught growing up, that I passed them along to my own kids. But something in the back of my mind kept nagging at me with E. Every kid needs different things from their parents, and what works with one kid, may not work with another. E reminded me so much of myself at that age. Very head strong, but basically making good enough choices to get by, and a willingness to learn on his own and take responsibility for his actions. This is where things get sticky. We all have to make adjustments to the things our parents did for us as kids, and trying to treat E the way I wished my parents had treated me during my high-school years was the hardest thing I've done as a parent. Relinquishing control while the child is still a child, and living in your home, is a very fine balancing act, indeed. This child needed more space than his brother, and now was not the time to teach or preach obedience.
Like M, E had decided to serve a mission upon graduation. Due to the circumstances during his last two years, he was much more adament about his intentions and repeatedly assured us that nothing was going to change his mind. Well, guess who ended up accepting an athletic scholarship instead of serving a mission? I found myself in the exact same position, two years later, of having to prepare a son with the facts of what we would and wouldn't be able to provide once he graduated high school. Needless to say, it wasn't quite what he was expecting, and as a result, led to some pretty hard feelings.
So having been twice burned, I am moving forward in preparing D for her graduation in two years. She has been very keen on listening to lots of people's collective wisdom in choosing her career path and school options. Hopefully, knowing that the gravy train in this house stops when you complete high school, very early on, will help her make plans accordingly, and make the transition much smother than it has been with her brothers. Her father and I have also decided to let her know starting now, what she might expect in terms of help paying for her eventual wedding. (Sometime in the very, very distant future ;O) )
I think that by providing our children very early on with a clear picture of what to expect, and in very specific, concise terms, we provide them with the tools they need to successfully transition out of the nest with as little frusteration and hardship as possible. I distinctly recall feeling somewhat betrayed when I wasn't sure I wanted to start college, but my parents were pretty insistent I do just that. When I finally gave in and started checking into what it was going to take financially for me to enroll, I was shocked to find that my family wasn't going to pay for school and I was pretty much on my own with it.
I'm not saying that parents should pay for college, in fact, I'm very much for kids having to make all the choices involved with where they school, where they live while they attend school and be responsible for paying their own tuition, books, fees, and if they decide they don't want to live at home to save expenses, then they also need to figure out how to pay for that! I think it helps them make conservative choices, appreciate their education and overall, it empowers them to know that they are capable of taking care of themselves. But I've been shown, three times now, in technicolor detail, that it is unfair and shocking to be brought to the deck of the boat and told that there's no ferry to the shore for you, you are expected to swim.
So call me dumb, but there's my short comings posted for all of you to see. They are what they are, and the best I can do is to improve the job I do with each child. If it gives you some food for thought, even just reminds you of what you already know, then, my work here is done. And *that* is this weeks' Wisdom Wednesday.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
What to do, what to do?
Ever have pesky kids in your 'hood? I do. We have nice kids, and we have pesky kids. The pesky kids show up all.the.time. Their mother rarely knows where they are, they cause strife with the other kids in the 'hood that have peaceful playtimes, and they don't leave when asked. This particular pair fabricated (according to the mom) a story that they "couldn't go home because no one was there". Nice. After I discussed this with the mother, she promptly drove off in.the.dark, leaving her children...AT MY HOUSE! I was livid. She kept the little gals home for a good couple of weeks, (punishment for the "tall tale" or keeping up appearances?) but they have been back with increasing regularity. I do not allow my children there for what I suspect would be largely unsupervised playtime, and the mother seems to have forgotten my use of the word "OCCASSIONAL" when describing my willingness to host her children. I don't like feeling badly about these kids, they are, after all, just kids, and it is a valuable opportunity for me to teach my children tolerance and kindness. But I don't like the spirit in my house when they are here, and I don't like that they are chasing off the better mannered, better suited playmates that my children do enjoy being with. Is there a graceful way to handle this one? I'm not sure. I allow my kids to play with one family's children each day after school, I would prefer to only have one set of playmates in the house at a time, and I prefer most of the time be with the kids that play well together. This is a tough one. Any ideas?
Monday, May 08, 2006
My Life Monday
I almost forgot I meant to participate in Rachelle's My Life Monday, even though I've been racking my brain to pick "My MOST Memorable Childhood Experience", so I'll pick "A Memorable Childhood Experience" and reserve the right to change my mind at anytime in the future...M'Kay?
My memory is strange. I remember things I shouldn't due to age, and I remember dreams and smells and emotions more richly than the people, places and events. It is nearly impossible for me to choose one event and call it the most memorable. Much of this, I believe, is attributable to the fact that life seemed to move in cycles. Do I pick spring, and the way the fields would flood with the spring run off, the new baby lambs and the wild iris in the fields? Do I pick Summer, with the mosquitoes that would eat you alive, the long day's spent harvesting the hay fields, and the glorius week off that was: County Fair. Or would it be Fall, just after school was back in session and I could ride my horses in the late afternoons, when it wasn't too hot, and it wasn't too cold, and for once, it wasn't windy. Or winter, when the river froze and I skated on it's bumpy surface until my muscles ached. I guess if I had to pick just ONE event and call it the most memorable, it would be the time I rescued my sister after she'd been in an accident with an ATV.
ATV's were a part of life for us on the ranch. They were used every single day, and days off were no exception. Being young and strong as I was, I was a very accomplished rider, more-so than most adults. My family attended a barbeque at the mountain cabin belonging to Dad's boss. Amoung the attendees was another set of sisters near the age of my sister and I. The other girls' father owned a four-wheeler, and we had brought two of our three wheelers. One of the young guy's dad had working for him comandeered the faster, more agile, black three wheeler, leaving me with the green slow poke. Given his general lack of good sense, I'm sure this was a mistake, but hindsight is 20/20. My sister went with the older sister of the other family, and the younger sister rode with me on my machine. With the lack of brain cells and faster machines, the young macho-guy and the older sister soon left me and my rider far behind.
Upon rounding a curve, I saw that the two machines had stopped, and the older sister was beside the machine, jumping up and down. It wasn't until we drew nearer that I began to comprehend what had happend. The machine carrying my sister had careend off the road and hit a tree head on. My sister was bleeding profusely from cuts on her face, including one that appeared to have cut her nose in half, and everyone was standing around, frozen stupidly. It was the first experience in my life that was totally and completely out of control and the adults involved had no answers. I picked up my sister, put her on my machine and took her back to the cabin, where my parents immediately rushed her to the hospital, almost an hour away. I remember washing her blood off the front of the three wheeler, and that it took a very long time to understand that adults don't always act like adults. As it was, the medical emergency that occurred at the hospital was more life threatening than her initial injuries, and she experienced minimal scarring given the initial appearance of her injuries.
So that's my memory. Not exactly the happiest one, but certainly memorable.
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