This little gem was written by Grant Von Harrison and for a time, was included in missionary literature, which is where my perfect BIL came upon it. I'm quite convinced this book is a big part of the reason this particular BIL is perfect. This book clearly lays a foundation for a deeper and more perfect understanding of faith and sets forth a clear and organized way of moving yourself ahead spiritually, benefitting in every possible way, both spiritually and temporally, as you go.
So, I'm going to open up a discussion here. If you have the book, or can get your hands on it, read along and feel free to participate. It will be a worthwhile endeavor. Even if you don't have it, feel free to add your thoughts.
The first chapter talks about faith. The opening statement is:
"Generally, members of the Church do not have difficulty understanding the most basic aspects of faith, such as faith that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that there is life after death, or with a general faith in the overall plan of salvation. However, many people do have trouble understanding the specific kind of faith required to draw on the powers of heaven to help them be more successful in every facet in their lives." (1)
Basically, we believe in the things we are supposed to, but have a hard time remembering that every action is moved forward by Heavenly Father. When we incorporate this concept into our prayers, and recognize that we have the power to do all things by faith (2 Nephi 1:10), we can gain confidence that Heavenly Father wants to give us all the powers He possesses as long as we put forth the effort and faith to make it possible for Him to bless us.
The book uses the example of someone wanting to lose ten pounds. The faith required to lose ten pounds is different than the faith required to gain special assistance from the Lord. If a person wants to lose ten pounds, they must motivate themselves to action by having faith in the laws that determine weight loss (eat less, move more), resolve to follow those laws, and maintain a constant effort, motivated by faith in the laws that govern weight loss. But many times in our lives, we encounter circumstances that require help from the Lord in addition to resolve and determination on our part. Basically, what I got out of reading this part, is that we should not be afraid to ask for miracles and we should get used to seeing them used to answer our prayers. Which makes sense. Every prayer answered really is a miracle, isn't it? Miracles are the Lords way of letting us know He exists, how much He loves us and how His power is limitless.
The end of the Chapter asks us to explain what is meant by the powers of heaven. I take it to mean that the powers of heaven is the power of God, which can and should be summoned to help us during our mortal lives.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
It's Official
My blogging break paid off and I got a 4.0.
Go me, go me, go me.....
*happy dance*
Ahem.
Never cared about doing that before. Well, not since before I had any control over it. It's just mean to give over achieving first graders big, black checkmarks that stand for "Needs Improvement" quarter after quarter even when they TRY to control their talking and stay on task. It goes to show you how very fragile the ego is. Knowing that simple truth would probably have saved my parents a small fortune in private school tuition costs.
See? Learn something every day, don't we!
Go me, go me, go me.....
*happy dance*
Ahem.
Never cared about doing that before. Well, not since before I had any control over it. It's just mean to give over achieving first graders big, black checkmarks that stand for "Needs Improvement" quarter after quarter even when they TRY to control their talking and stay on task. It goes to show you how very fragile the ego is. Knowing that simple truth would probably have saved my parents a small fortune in private school tuition costs.
See? Learn something every day, don't we!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Doing the Hokey Pokey
I have been stuck in finals mode so, I seriously slacked off in the blog posting.
I do think I managed to pull off a 4.0. The one class I was borderline posted grades yesterday and I must have rocked it out on that last test. Anyhow, here is the video of the year at my house:
We will be including it with her application to Juliiard.
I do think I managed to pull off a 4.0. The one class I was borderline posted grades yesterday and I must have rocked it out on that last test. Anyhow, here is the video of the year at my house:
We will be including it with her application to Juliiard.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Feeling Joy
Something strange happens to me the moment I become pregnant. I didn't know it would happen with my first child, was in serious denial when it happened with my second child, but there was no doubt I knew what was coming by the time I became pregnant with J.
When I become pregnant, I become unhappy.
I wanted children so badly I could hardly stand to hold our close friends' babies during church. I obsessed over getting pregnant, being pregnant and how I was going to get un-pregnant. I really, really, really, wanted to have kids. What I didn't count on, was the case of the orneries I got each time I got the chance to add to our family.
With B, I was sick. So.so.so.so. sick. I was the only person allowed to use the upstairs bathroom. My softball team kept a large trash can in the dugout, which I visited several times each game. I modified my diet to consume only foods that came up as easily as they went down. Watching my body swell up like a cartoon character did not delight me as it seems to some other members of the female race. The baby moving around was cool for about a month. After that, it just felt like a prolonged case of a wierd stomach virus.
After the baby came, I was thrilled to be a mom, and with barely any chance to breath, I became pregnant with K. I was tired. Overwhelmingly, bone-achingly, w.e.a.r.y. Once she got here, I was sad and emotional. My body wouldn't respond to excersize, I felt dumpy and raving and emotionally crippled. When K turned two, I recognized a shift in my outlook. I became less over-reactive, more patient, and happier with life overall.
When I became pregnant with J, I cried for three days. Along with the discomfort of being pregnant, I also figured out that my life would be seriously tampered with and upset for the next three years. I was right. Along with all the temporal trials we underwent during that time, my own during and after baby slump was added to the mix.
I am happy to report that the slump is coming to a close. I caught myself on SEVERAL occasions this week, slowing down to relish time spent with my children. I stopped working in the yard to watch the girls push each other on the swing. I sat next to B and watched him read and helped him with his homework. I caught myself playing their games with them, watching their shows with them and doing things for them without sighing and feeling pressured to add one more thing to my already full plate. I wish I could take away every harsh word, every impatient remark and every time I raised my voice or brushed them off. I wish I could have those moments back now, when I can fully appreciate the aching lovliness of their skin, the sweet smell of their heads and the charming twinkle in their eyes. I wish I would have written down every cute word, new discovery and recorded every silly dance they ever danced. But I know I can't. I can only move forward and drink in every precious moment from here on out. Unencumbered by my funk, I can try to be the mommy they deserve and be the person they can count on.
I think I'll take extra care with J. She'll probably be the one that picks out my retirement home. (But then again, B has already promised he will build me a house next to his so I can live there and make him spaghetti. K is going to live there with me. She's getting married when she's 35 and needs a place to stay until then. Good to have a plan, isn't it?)
When I become pregnant, I become unhappy.
I wanted children so badly I could hardly stand to hold our close friends' babies during church. I obsessed over getting pregnant, being pregnant and how I was going to get un-pregnant. I really, really, really, wanted to have kids. What I didn't count on, was the case of the orneries I got each time I got the chance to add to our family.
With B, I was sick. So.so.so.so. sick. I was the only person allowed to use the upstairs bathroom. My softball team kept a large trash can in the dugout, which I visited several times each game. I modified my diet to consume only foods that came up as easily as they went down. Watching my body swell up like a cartoon character did not delight me as it seems to some other members of the female race. The baby moving around was cool for about a month. After that, it just felt like a prolonged case of a wierd stomach virus.
After the baby came, I was thrilled to be a mom, and with barely any chance to breath, I became pregnant with K. I was tired. Overwhelmingly, bone-achingly, w.e.a.r.y. Once she got here, I was sad and emotional. My body wouldn't respond to excersize, I felt dumpy and raving and emotionally crippled. When K turned two, I recognized a shift in my outlook. I became less over-reactive, more patient, and happier with life overall.
When I became pregnant with J, I cried for three days. Along with the discomfort of being pregnant, I also figured out that my life would be seriously tampered with and upset for the next three years. I was right. Along with all the temporal trials we underwent during that time, my own during and after baby slump was added to the mix.
I am happy to report that the slump is coming to a close. I caught myself on SEVERAL occasions this week, slowing down to relish time spent with my children. I stopped working in the yard to watch the girls push each other on the swing. I sat next to B and watched him read and helped him with his homework. I caught myself playing their games with them, watching their shows with them and doing things for them without sighing and feeling pressured to add one more thing to my already full plate. I wish I could take away every harsh word, every impatient remark and every time I raised my voice or brushed them off. I wish I could have those moments back now, when I can fully appreciate the aching lovliness of their skin, the sweet smell of their heads and the charming twinkle in their eyes. I wish I would have written down every cute word, new discovery and recorded every silly dance they ever danced. But I know I can't. I can only move forward and drink in every precious moment from here on out. Unencumbered by my funk, I can try to be the mommy they deserve and be the person they can count on.
I think I'll take extra care with J. She'll probably be the one that picks out my retirement home. (But then again, B has already promised he will build me a house next to his so I can live there and make him spaghetti. K is going to live there with me. She's getting married when she's 35 and needs a place to stay until then. Good to have a plan, isn't it?)
Monday, November 27, 2006
Creative Use of New Skillz
M, the oldest, watched the youngest three children while I worked at the office for a few hours today. I left homework open and ready with instructions that the children finish their work before they were allowed to play or watch TV. K wrote the preceeding note and stuck it to the door. Calling to M, she said, "I found a note! It says: M, do not make the kids do the homework." To M's credit, he said, "Oh! OK, well, let me take a look."
"Um, no, that's OK, Mom taught me how to read, I can tell it to you!"
Gotta give the girl credit for trying!
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Love is...
Someone who cheerfully helps clean up puke at 2 am.
Someone who let's his little girl paint his nails, and wears pink nail polish for three days because he thought it was clear.
Someone who takes the kids fishing.
Someone who plays when he'd rather be napping.
Someone who teaches his kids, supports their dreams and does everything he can for them.
Someone who takes the time to celebrate his wife's birthday and Valentine's Day, even though they fall on the same day.
Someone who takes his wife on a date at least twice a month, no matter what.
Someone who does dishes, and folds laundry...and never complains about it.
We certainly are lucky to have you, dear.
Someone who let's his little girl paint his nails, and wears pink nail polish for three days because he thought it was clear.
Someone who takes the kids fishing.
Someone who plays when he'd rather be napping.
Someone who teaches his kids, supports their dreams and does everything he can for them.
Someone who takes the time to celebrate his wife's birthday and Valentine's Day, even though they fall on the same day.
Someone who takes his wife on a date at least twice a month, no matter what.
Someone who does dishes, and folds laundry...and never complains about it.
We certainly are lucky to have you, dear.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Kill.me.now.
Me: I want to build the receptionist desk.
Him: Sounds good.
A week passes, we now need the desk.
Him: Dad wants to go look for a reception desk.
Me: I thought I was building it.
Him: Me too. But he says it would be easier.
Me: Easier and a whole lot more expensive.
Him: You never know.
Under my breath: *yes I do. I always know.*
Next day:
Him: I called a place and we can rent a desk.
Me: Sounds expensive.
Him: No, they'll practically give it to us and fly us to Tahiti as an added incentive.
OK, no he didn't really say that last part.
Him: They are having a huge sale this weekend, we're going.
Me: I want to build the desk.
Him: Dad will be here at 8 am.
Me: Great, he can take us to Home Depot.
Him: Scowl.
8 am:
Him: Ah, yes, here it is.
Me: Great. And only two hours of driving to find it.
Him: The sale is around back in the warehouse.
Me: Why is that big black man shouting at that little round guy? And why are all those people standing around them?
Him: (on the phone with his dad) You might want to slip your pistol in your pocket before you come in....
Me: Um. I don't see any office furniture.
Him: I'll ask the manager.
Me: I'll just stand over here and try to stay out of the line of fire.
Him: More scowling
10 am:
Him: Well, they don't have a receptionist desk.
Me: Great. I want to build it.
Him: We'll go buy the other stuff we need.
Noon:
After having gone to three more stores, FIL says to buy the desk at store number 2, Hubster says $400 for particle board is a no-go, he decides to buy a cheapo one from the store he went to earlier in the week. Cost: $189.00 plus tax.
Me: I hate that desk. I want to build a desk. I can build what I want for less.
Him: I need it by Monday. Less work this way. You can built what you want later.
Me: Less work for WHOM?
Him: More scowling
1 pm:
Salesclerk: I'm sorry sir, I'd have to order that, I sold the last one yesterday.
Me: Great. I want to build the desk.
Him: OK, we'll go to Home Depot. But I want to make it out of paneling.
Me: Paneling is going to be more expensive.
Him: Well, we'll just go see.
2 pm:
In Home Depot, mind you, I built the last desk. I designed the space for this desk, I've been thinking about what I need for 2 weeks now. The plan is to build an "L" shaped wall that has a 6' section and a 4' section, is 4' tall, with a 6' counter top as a work space, and a 6" wide ledge around the top to be used as a writing surface. Short file cabinets fit underneath. People can't lean over, the side wall prevents prying eyes from peering in from the waiting room. Simple. Brilliant. Cheap.
Him: We could put that over the front, that would be fast.
Me: That's hardwood flooring. I guess it could work, but you'd still have to attach it to something.
Him: OK, well, how about this paneling?
Me: I want drywall. It will cost half.
Him: Well, how about the counter top? We need a four foot counter top.
Me: No, we need a six foot counter top.
Him: What about the four foot section of the wall?
Me: No counter top there.
Him: Why?
Me: It would take up too much space.
Him: Well, what about the writing surface part? I want to go look at the shelving to see if there is something laminated so the writing surface is smooth. Plus, it will be fast.
Me: We can look. We used oak last time. Holy cow. That stuff is expensive. We'll go with oak.
Him: Well we only need four feet.
Me: No, we need a little over 10 feet.
Him: Only for the short section, not for the short wall!
Me: What short wall?
Him: Where the counter goes.
Me: That's not going to be short.
Him: Why not? It would be faster.
Me: Because it's not.
Him: Well we don't have to put it on the whole thing.
Me: How else are you going to finish it?
Him: Blank stare.
Much stepping off and speaking with the hands ensues. Animated explanation was presented by both sides. An understanding of the vision is reached.
Me: OK, so we need four sheets of dry wall, three for sure, but four to be safe.
Him: We only need two.
Me: NO, WE NEED THREEEEEE AT LEAST....*spoken v-e-r-y slowly*
Me: There's TWO sides to the wall....
Him: But you only need to finish one side, it will be faster.
Me: And you are going to have 2X4's on the desk side? BUY FOUR.
Him: OK, how much oak.
Me: Two peices
Him: I thought we only needed four feet.
Me: I'm going to kill you now.
5:30 pm:
Delivery of needed supplies to office. Included:
4 sheets of drywall
2 pieces of oak
8 2X4's
1 2X2
1 six foot counter top
1 bucket of joint compound
2 peices of bowl nose
Framing screws and Drywall screws.
Total cost: $182.00 with tax, and I bought a new tape measure to boot.
Basically, if left alone, I would have built the desk, painted the desk, and moved my crap into the desk in the time it took to help two grown men decide to listen to me.
I didn't yell once. And they call US the weaker sex.
Him: Sounds good.
A week passes, we now need the desk.
Him: Dad wants to go look for a reception desk.
Me: I thought I was building it.
Him: Me too. But he says it would be easier.
Me: Easier and a whole lot more expensive.
Him: You never know.
Under my breath: *yes I do. I always know.*
Next day:
Him: I called a place and we can rent a desk.
Me: Sounds expensive.
Him: No, they'll practically give it to us and fly us to Tahiti as an added incentive.
OK, no he didn't really say that last part.
Him: They are having a huge sale this weekend, we're going.
Me: I want to build the desk.
Him: Dad will be here at 8 am.
Me: Great, he can take us to Home Depot.
Him: Scowl.
8 am:
Him: Ah, yes, here it is.
Me: Great. And only two hours of driving to find it.
Him: The sale is around back in the warehouse.
Me: Why is that big black man shouting at that little round guy? And why are all those people standing around them?
Him: (on the phone with his dad) You might want to slip your pistol in your pocket before you come in....
Me: Um. I don't see any office furniture.
Him: I'll ask the manager.
Me: I'll just stand over here and try to stay out of the line of fire.
Him: More scowling
10 am:
Him: Well, they don't have a receptionist desk.
Me: Great. I want to build it.
Him: We'll go buy the other stuff we need.
Noon:
After having gone to three more stores, FIL says to buy the desk at store number 2, Hubster says $400 for particle board is a no-go, he decides to buy a cheapo one from the store he went to earlier in the week. Cost: $189.00 plus tax.
Me: I hate that desk. I want to build a desk. I can build what I want for less.
Him: I need it by Monday. Less work this way. You can built what you want later.
Me: Less work for WHOM?
Him: More scowling
1 pm:
Salesclerk: I'm sorry sir, I'd have to order that, I sold the last one yesterday.
Me: Great. I want to build the desk.
Him: OK, we'll go to Home Depot. But I want to make it out of paneling.
Me: Paneling is going to be more expensive.
Him: Well, we'll just go see.
2 pm:
In Home Depot, mind you, I built the last desk. I designed the space for this desk, I've been thinking about what I need for 2 weeks now. The plan is to build an "L" shaped wall that has a 6' section and a 4' section, is 4' tall, with a 6' counter top as a work space, and a 6" wide ledge around the top to be used as a writing surface. Short file cabinets fit underneath. People can't lean over, the side wall prevents prying eyes from peering in from the waiting room. Simple. Brilliant. Cheap.
Him: We could put that over the front, that would be fast.
Me: That's hardwood flooring. I guess it could work, but you'd still have to attach it to something.
Him: OK, well, how about this paneling?
Me: I want drywall. It will cost half.
Him: Well, how about the counter top? We need a four foot counter top.
Me: No, we need a six foot counter top.
Him: What about the four foot section of the wall?
Me: No counter top there.
Him: Why?
Me: It would take up too much space.
Him: Well, what about the writing surface part? I want to go look at the shelving to see if there is something laminated so the writing surface is smooth. Plus, it will be fast.
Me: We can look. We used oak last time. Holy cow. That stuff is expensive. We'll go with oak.
Him: Well we only need four feet.
Me: No, we need a little over 10 feet.
Him: Only for the short section, not for the short wall!
Me: What short wall?
Him: Where the counter goes.
Me: That's not going to be short.
Him: Why not? It would be faster.
Me: Because it's not.
Him: Well we don't have to put it on the whole thing.
Me: How else are you going to finish it?
Him: Blank stare.
Much stepping off and speaking with the hands ensues. Animated explanation was presented by both sides. An understanding of the vision is reached.
Me: OK, so we need four sheets of dry wall, three for sure, but four to be safe.
Him: We only need two.
Me: NO, WE NEED THREEEEEE AT LEAST....*spoken v-e-r-y slowly*
Me: There's TWO sides to the wall....
Him: But you only need to finish one side, it will be faster.
Me: And you are going to have 2X4's on the desk side? BUY FOUR.
Him: OK, how much oak.
Me: Two peices
Him: I thought we only needed four feet.
Me: I'm going to kill you now.
5:30 pm:
Delivery of needed supplies to office. Included:
4 sheets of drywall
2 pieces of oak
8 2X4's
1 2X2
1 six foot counter top
1 bucket of joint compound
2 peices of bowl nose
Framing screws and Drywall screws.
Total cost: $182.00 with tax, and I bought a new tape measure to boot.
Basically, if left alone, I would have built the desk, painted the desk, and moved my crap into the desk in the time it took to help two grown men decide to listen to me.
I didn't yell once. And they call US the weaker sex.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Friday, November 03, 2006
If nothing else...
I certainly do enjoy job security.
And yes, Mother, it *WAS* clean last night thankyouverymuch.
And yes, Mother, it *WAS* clean last night thankyouverymuch.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Golly!
Don't mean to break my arm patting myself on the back, but I've been fretting over my thesis statement for my long research paper assignment for two weeks now. I finally posted my thesis:
While it has become apparent through comparison of academic test scores that home school students generally out perform their public school counterparts, until recently, very little research has been available to compare the social outcomes of public school student to those of home schooled students. An analysis of the small but growing body of evidence supporting the positive social development of home schooled students reveals that while many of the initial studies have been performed and interpreted by Christian fundamentalists, newer studies, including at least two performed by less biased professional educators, all support initial claims that most home school students are at least as socially adept as public school students, and often, they are more socially advanced, exhibit fewer aggressive behaviors and exercise better self control than children educated in the public school system.
and this was my instructor's response:
Wow. That's really good. You have added new information to discussion that is highly debated that seems reasonable and interesting. I like how you recognize the previous possible biases and present confirmation based on less biased studies. I am drawn into your paper on those tantalizing bits of information. I am very curious to see the numbers and interpretations of the studies to back this thesis up.
I'm glowing. Hee, hee!
While it has become apparent through comparison of academic test scores that home school students generally out perform their public school counterparts, until recently, very little research has been available to compare the social outcomes of public school student to those of home schooled students. An analysis of the small but growing body of evidence supporting the positive social development of home schooled students reveals that while many of the initial studies have been performed and interpreted by Christian fundamentalists, newer studies, including at least two performed by less biased professional educators, all support initial claims that most home school students are at least as socially adept as public school students, and often, they are more socially advanced, exhibit fewer aggressive behaviors and exercise better self control than children educated in the public school system.
and this was my instructor's response:
Wow. That's really good. You have added new information to discussion that is highly debated that seems reasonable and interesting. I like how you recognize the previous possible biases and present confirmation based on less biased studies. I am drawn into your paper on those tantalizing bits of information. I am very curious to see the numbers and interpretations of the studies to back this thesis up.
I'm glowing. Hee, hee!
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Excitement and Freecycle
Two posts in one! LOL
The kids are excited because we got this:
And I got him from Freecycle. If you don't know about freecycle, you should check it out at www.freecycle.org. It's amazing what people give away. Sometimes you get things you didn't even know you needed! LOL The lady with the rabbit needed to find him a home and gave us everything, the cage, feeders, waterers, food, bedding and leash. I've also picked up a shampoo bowl and sink for my SIL. It's a great way to get rid of some of the "stuff" that's cluttering up your life. You never know, someone might get some use out of your old things, so before I trash, I freecycle.
I apologize for my blogging slack-iness. After a whole lot of personal drama and financial upheaval over the past three years, my husband is going back into business for himself and we have been hard at work getting that adventure underway. You know. In my spare time. Between classes and homeschooling and baseballing. I won't even go into how the housework is suffering. But somehow, I'm keeping my head a little bit above water and each new day filled with things to do is a blessing.
The kids are excited because we got this:
And I got him from Freecycle. If you don't know about freecycle, you should check it out at www.freecycle.org. It's amazing what people give away. Sometimes you get things you didn't even know you needed! LOL The lady with the rabbit needed to find him a home and gave us everything, the cage, feeders, waterers, food, bedding and leash. I've also picked up a shampoo bowl and sink for my SIL. It's a great way to get rid of some of the "stuff" that's cluttering up your life. You never know, someone might get some use out of your old things, so before I trash, I freecycle.
I apologize for my blogging slack-iness. After a whole lot of personal drama and financial upheaval over the past three years, my husband is going back into business for himself and we have been hard at work getting that adventure underway. You know. In my spare time. Between classes and homeschooling and baseballing. I won't even go into how the housework is suffering. But somehow, I'm keeping my head a little bit above water and each new day filled with things to do is a blessing.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
DEUTERONOMY
Chapter 5:7-21.
7 Thou shalt have none other gods before me.
8 Thou shalt not make thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the waters beneath the earth:
9 Thou shalt not bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me,
10 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me and keep my commandments.
11 Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
12 Keep the sabbath day to sanctify it, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee.
13 Six days thou shalt labour, and do all thy work:
14 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou.
15 And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the LORD thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the LORD thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.
16 Honour thy father and thy mother, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
17 Thou shalt not kill.
18 Neither shalt thou commit adultery.
19 Neither shalt thou steal.
20 Neither shalt thou bear false witness against thy neighbour.
21 Neither shalt thou desire thy neighbour’s wife, neither shalt thou covet thy neighbour’s house, his field, or his manservant, or his maidservant, his ox, or his ass, or any thing that is thy neighbour’s.
Just as we command our children thou shalt not drive fast and wear no seat belt, and thou shalt not eat ten cookies lest ye ruin thy dinner; He gave us these rules not to spoil our fun and rain on our parade, but for our own benefit and safety, and He meant every word, it isn't up to us to pick and choose which ones we want to obey.
I'm thankful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us rules to live by, and guidelines for raising our children. Happy Sunday!
7 Thou shalt have none other gods before me.
8 Thou shalt not make thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the waters beneath the earth:
9 Thou shalt not bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me,
10 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me and keep my commandments.
11 Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain: for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
12 Keep the sabbath day to sanctify it, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee.
13 Six days thou shalt labour, and do all thy work:
14 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou.
15 And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the LORD thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the LORD thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.
16 Honour thy father and thy mother, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee; that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
17 Thou shalt not kill.
18 Neither shalt thou commit adultery.
19 Neither shalt thou steal.
20 Neither shalt thou bear false witness against thy neighbour.
21 Neither shalt thou desire thy neighbour’s wife, neither shalt thou covet thy neighbour’s house, his field, or his manservant, or his maidservant, his ox, or his ass, or any thing that is thy neighbour’s.
Just as we command our children thou shalt not drive fast and wear no seat belt, and thou shalt not eat ten cookies lest ye ruin thy dinner; He gave us these rules not to spoil our fun and rain on our parade, but for our own benefit and safety, and He meant every word, it isn't up to us to pick and choose which ones we want to obey.
I'm thankful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us rules to live by, and guidelines for raising our children. Happy Sunday!
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Let's c.......
C is for costume. Duh. Could it *be* about anything else? I thought not.
Christmas is all about the kids, but Halloween, we all know who the costumes are *really* for. This is probably the last year I'll get away with choosing K's costume for her and making her think it was her idea entirely, but I've got another 2-3 years with J. Once again, I failed to talk B into the Captain Hook costume. He'll probably end up with a Power Ranger's costume and I'll hate it as much as the $25 Batman costume he insisted on last year. *sigh* My little boy has his own opinion. Rats.
For those of you with little guys, Disney Store makes a FABULOUS Captain Hook costume with a gorgeous red velvet coat, and they are all on sale for 50% off right now. What.a.deal. $20 buys you a Disney store costume with awesome details and better quality fabrics, you'll spend just as much at Walmart and probably won't be nearly as satisfied. The trick is getting out of the store without buying the matching shoes, wand, tiara, tights, gloves and hairpiece. I always swear I'm going to resell the costumes on E-bay, since you can get as much or more than what you paid at the store, but they love them so much we've never been able to give up a single one before it was worn to shreds. So with no further rambling about my love of dressing up my children, prepare yourself for the cuteness:
Maybe I can talk B into being a ghost...or a mummy....a pirate? ANYTHING but a Power Ranger, PLEASE!!!!
Christmas is all about the kids, but Halloween, we all know who the costumes are *really* for. This is probably the last year I'll get away with choosing K's costume for her and making her think it was her idea entirely, but I've got another 2-3 years with J. Once again, I failed to talk B into the Captain Hook costume. He'll probably end up with a Power Ranger's costume and I'll hate it as much as the $25 Batman costume he insisted on last year. *sigh* My little boy has his own opinion. Rats.
For those of you with little guys, Disney Store makes a FABULOUS Captain Hook costume with a gorgeous red velvet coat, and they are all on sale for 50% off right now. What.a.deal. $20 buys you a Disney store costume with awesome details and better quality fabrics, you'll spend just as much at Walmart and probably won't be nearly as satisfied. The trick is getting out of the store without buying the matching shoes, wand, tiara, tights, gloves and hairpiece. I always swear I'm going to resell the costumes on E-bay, since you can get as much or more than what you paid at the store, but they love them so much we've never been able to give up a single one before it was worn to shreds. So with no further rambling about my love of dressing up my children, prepare yourself for the cuteness:
Maybe I can talk B into being a ghost...or a mummy....a pirate? ANYTHING but a Power Ranger, PLEASE!!!!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
B is for....
Brine. With Thanksgiving coming up in a bit, you should know about brining your bird. If you've never tried it, you owe it to yourself to give it a try. Here's the recipe I used last year and several times since. It never fails to produce a wonderfully juicy and flavorful bird.
Honey Brined Turkey I also added a few sprigs of fresh rosemary.
Honey Brined Turkey I also added a few sprigs of fresh rosemary.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Encyclopedia Project
I'm having a blogging block. I tell myself that it's because I'm busy, and why wouldn't I be with all that's going on, but really, I can't think of much to write, and what I do doesn't come out as I'd hoped. All I've managed to do is build up my draft pile these past two weeks. So I was reading a post over at Ittybitty Frog Idea's and, I decided to try doing some blogs like this. I'll start at A and write down what comes to mind. Might be fun. Might be boring like she thought the book was. Either way, it's something.
So for A, the word that comes to my mind is Albatross. Yeah, that's a little random, I know. Bear with me. According to dictionary.com:
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
al‧ba‧tross /ˈælbəˌtrÉ”s, -ËŒtrÉ’s/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[al-buh-traws, -tros] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. any of several large, web-footed sea birds of the family Diomedeidae that have the ability to remain aloft for long periods. Compare wandering albatross.
2. a seemingly inescapable moral or emotional burden, as of guilt or responsibility.
3. something burdensome that impedes action or progress.
4. Textiles.
a. a lightweight worsted fabric with a crepe or pebble finish.
b. a plain-weave cotton fabric with a soft nap surface.
I don't know much about birds, in fact, they kind of freak me out and I don't really like to be too close to them, unless they are chickens, then I don't mind as much. But the part about burden and impeded action, we might have something there.
What is it about being a mom that makes us guilt pros? We carry it around like an old coat. We heap it on the heads of our families. What a great tool Satan has in guilt. Sometimes, it can motivate us to action, but lets face it, usually, we just carry it around and let it drag us down to the murky depths. It allows us to dwell on what we haven't done, or haven't done well enough, or what we should have done, or what we could have done better. Often, it makes us dwell on things we shouldn't have done. What mother hasn't had at least a handful of days when she laid her head down at night and thought to herself, "all I did was yell and nag at my kids all.day.long." I think it is interesting that "impedes action or progress" comes right after the guilt and responsibility part. Does it always have to do that? Or can we find ways to use those feelings and turn it into something positive. Our lesson in Young Women today was about self esteem and feeling good about yourself. One of the classic exercises for this lesson is to list what you don't like about yourself and cross off what you can't change. We should do that with feelings of guilt. Fix what we can, and then quit beating ourselves up over it. I think I'll give that a try this week. What about you?
So for A, the word that comes to my mind is Albatross. Yeah, that's a little random, I know. Bear with me. According to dictionary.com:
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
al‧ba‧tross /ˈælbəˌtrÉ”s, -ËŒtrÉ’s/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[al-buh-traws, -tros] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. any of several large, web-footed sea birds of the family Diomedeidae that have the ability to remain aloft for long periods. Compare wandering albatross.
2. a seemingly inescapable moral or emotional burden, as of guilt or responsibility.
3. something burdensome that impedes action or progress.
4. Textiles.
a. a lightweight worsted fabric with a crepe or pebble finish.
b. a plain-weave cotton fabric with a soft nap surface.
I don't know much about birds, in fact, they kind of freak me out and I don't really like to be too close to them, unless they are chickens, then I don't mind as much. But the part about burden and impeded action, we might have something there.
What is it about being a mom that makes us guilt pros? We carry it around like an old coat. We heap it on the heads of our families. What a great tool Satan has in guilt. Sometimes, it can motivate us to action, but lets face it, usually, we just carry it around and let it drag us down to the murky depths. It allows us to dwell on what we haven't done, or haven't done well enough, or what we should have done, or what we could have done better. Often, it makes us dwell on things we shouldn't have done. What mother hasn't had at least a handful of days when she laid her head down at night and thought to herself, "all I did was yell and nag at my kids all.day.long." I think it is interesting that "impedes action or progress" comes right after the guilt and responsibility part. Does it always have to do that? Or can we find ways to use those feelings and turn it into something positive. Our lesson in Young Women today was about self esteem and feeling good about yourself. One of the classic exercises for this lesson is to list what you don't like about yourself and cross off what you can't change. We should do that with feelings of guilt. Fix what we can, and then quit beating ourselves up over it. I think I'll give that a try this week. What about you?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Just Like The Fair!
While I try to decide which of my kids to sell so I can pay the $9-$13 dollar per head entry fee to the State Fair, I thought I'd pass along this recipe for Kettle Corn. Just as good as at the Fair and much, much, much cheaper!
1/4 cup oil (I use Olive)
2/3 cup popcorn
Heat in pot with lid, when first kernel pops, open lid and sprinkle in 1/4 cup sugar.
Shake as it pops to avoid scorching the bottom, turn into bowl and salt. It really is that easy!
1/4 cup oil (I use Olive)
2/3 cup popcorn
Heat in pot with lid, when first kernel pops, open lid and sprinkle in 1/4 cup sugar.
Shake as it pops to avoid scorching the bottom, turn into bowl and salt. It really is that easy!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Operation: Ki Ki goes in the wash.
Kids are outside playing, distracted, 9:30 am
Ki Ki enters washing machine 9:35 am
Kids come inside, 10:20 am
J demands Bonnie and Ki Ki 10:21 am
I break the news, 10:21:30 am
Text conversation between Hubster and myself at 10:22 am
Me: Stage four meltdown in progress. Blanket is in the wash. Shoot me now.
Him: Distract her.
Me: Yeah. That'll work.
Him: It always works.
Me: I'll tell her that.
I try the substitute bankie's, an effort which is met with louder screaming, and thrashing as if every blanket we own is made of molton lava, so great is the torture of having such a thing touch.on.her.skin.
Him: Give her barney vid
Me: That's what started the whole thing. I'll have her call you. That'll distract her.
Him: Tell her to knock it off or we eat Barney like we did the rooster that chased her!
Gee. Now why didn't *I* think of that?
I'm still laughing.
She's still screaming.
Ki Ki is still spinning.
B and K are stationed by the dryer door, stuffing styrofoam peanuts in their ears.
Ki Ki enters washing machine 9:35 am
Kids come inside, 10:20 am
J demands Bonnie and Ki Ki 10:21 am
I break the news, 10:21:30 am
Text conversation between Hubster and myself at 10:22 am
Me: Stage four meltdown in progress. Blanket is in the wash. Shoot me now.
Him: Distract her.
Me: Yeah. That'll work.
Him: It always works.
Me: I'll tell her that.
I try the substitute bankie's, an effort which is met with louder screaming, and thrashing as if every blanket we own is made of molton lava, so great is the torture of having such a thing touch.on.her.skin.
Him: Give her barney vid
Me: That's what started the whole thing. I'll have her call you. That'll distract her.
Him: Tell her to knock it off or we eat Barney like we did the rooster that chased her!
Gee. Now why didn't *I* think of that?
I'm still laughing.
She's still screaming.
Ki Ki is still spinning.
B and K are stationed by the dryer door, stuffing styrofoam peanuts in their ears.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Hair Did
I sure 'nuff did.
The sides should have been a touch longer, but I'm so loving the new look!
The sides should have been a touch longer, but I'm so loving the new look!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Two
Well, sweet J, you turned two about a week and a half ago. It seems like you were born about a minute and a half ago, but time flies when you're watching your heart walk around outside of your body, right? You are the pride and joy of your entire family. You are rotten and spoiled and you are all ours, we couldn't be happier. You are the typical baby of the family, slow to talk, quick to scream, and the object of everyone's complete and utter adoration. Since you've been slower to talk than your siblings were, you are a master of body language. There is no mistaking your desires, especially when you waggle your little finger and tell us, "'Mere! 'Mere!", pointing and acting your way through every day is what we've come to count on. You surprise us every day with a new word you can clearly articulate, but we will forever be on the lookout for your happy little dance that shows us the delight in your heart. You spend a good portion of every day trying to talk us out of just one more "bi-C" (vitamin C) and each time we give in, you very somberly mimic us telling you, "only one more, or you'll have a sore bum", you even point your little finger and roll your eyes.
You were so eager to ditch your diapers that you potty trained your little self to the point we could take you out in public with just your big girl panties. Then, for whatever reason, you decided big girl panties weren't all that and a bag of chips, and it's been diapers ever since. You are the most confounding bundle of opposition the world has ever known. You are ornery and sweet, mean and caring, shy and outgoing, scream in the car but you love to go places, the only thing we can count on is that you will do the opposite of what we expect...or not.
You surprise and delight your nursery teachers with your ability to hold a pencil correctly and string beads onto a pipe cleaner, too bad they can't see you run the Casio piano. You know which buttons to push to make it play all your favorite songs and you spend hours each day singing and dancing along with it. Your father and I often joke that you will be in third grade by the time you are six since you refuse to be left out of the homeschool day. We give you your "paypee" and "peepee" each day and you sit at the table with B and K and work just like they do. Just last night, you amazed us all with your ability to bean your sister, then your brother, in the head with a roll around ball at 15 paces. In fact, you can pretty much hit anything you throw at. Your dad couldn't be prouder. Your siblings have taken to wearing their batting helmets indoors.
You tell us "pfunny" (funny), "shash" (trash), "pitty" (pretty), "ticka" (tickle), "'ep meeee" (help me), "step-step", "uppy" (cup, up, puppy), "pee pee" (paper, pencil, get me to a bathroom, and look what I have), you love your "di-dow" (pillow) and your "ki-ki" (blankie), and you have recently developed a love affair with "Bonnie", the big purple dinosaur. You also love Blue's Clue's and have a special sound you use for that, it sounds nothing like Blue or Clue. You also roar. We aren't sure why you do it, but you think it is hysterical. Perhaps the funniest thing you do lately is bring daddy your cat book, and then make daddy chase you with it. You giggle and flirt and dramatize the kitty getting you like it were a real, live cat chasing after you.
You hate clothes and spend a good part of each day as n@ked as a jay-bird. It really is something to see a n@ked girl flop herself onto her brothers skate board and scoot herself across the kitchen like super man. You've also perfected the art of n@ked-couch-flopping. This involves removing all the pillows from the couch, yelling "fi-fi" (excuse me) at the top of your lungs until any bodies that dared sit upon said couch move to another location, and then climbing onto the arm, standing up, and belly flopping onto the seat. You get extra points if you roll off the seat and onto the pillows that litter the floor from step one.
You've decided your sister is a good royal subject, and have decided she should be allowed to share your air. This was a wise decision on your part, your bubba loves you, but he's not nearly as cute in a princess dress. They both wait on you hand and foot, and I have to say, you owe them big-time. You are a fickle playmate and they are very patient with your impatience.
You are the best entertainment we've ever had. Watching you do crunches with me is enough to send us all into fits of laughter. When you get into trouble, you run to your room, scream for 5 minutes or so, and return as though nothing at all ever happened. We let our phones ring extra long just so we can watch you dance. You sing yourself to sleep each night and fill our world with a cuteness that is so blinding that we forgive you all your tantrums.
You are the best surprise we ever got. Happy Birthday little J.
You were so eager to ditch your diapers that you potty trained your little self to the point we could take you out in public with just your big girl panties. Then, for whatever reason, you decided big girl panties weren't all that and a bag of chips, and it's been diapers ever since. You are the most confounding bundle of opposition the world has ever known. You are ornery and sweet, mean and caring, shy and outgoing, scream in the car but you love to go places, the only thing we can count on is that you will do the opposite of what we expect...or not.
You surprise and delight your nursery teachers with your ability to hold a pencil correctly and string beads onto a pipe cleaner, too bad they can't see you run the Casio piano. You know which buttons to push to make it play all your favorite songs and you spend hours each day singing and dancing along with it. Your father and I often joke that you will be in third grade by the time you are six since you refuse to be left out of the homeschool day. We give you your "paypee" and "peepee" each day and you sit at the table with B and K and work just like they do. Just last night, you amazed us all with your ability to bean your sister, then your brother, in the head with a roll around ball at 15 paces. In fact, you can pretty much hit anything you throw at. Your dad couldn't be prouder. Your siblings have taken to wearing their batting helmets indoors.
You tell us "pfunny" (funny), "shash" (trash), "pitty" (pretty), "ticka" (tickle), "'ep meeee" (help me), "step-step", "uppy" (cup, up, puppy), "pee pee" (paper, pencil, get me to a bathroom, and look what I have), you love your "di-dow" (pillow) and your "ki-ki" (blankie), and you have recently developed a love affair with "Bonnie", the big purple dinosaur. You also love Blue's Clue's and have a special sound you use for that, it sounds nothing like Blue or Clue. You also roar. We aren't sure why you do it, but you think it is hysterical. Perhaps the funniest thing you do lately is bring daddy your cat book, and then make daddy chase you with it. You giggle and flirt and dramatize the kitty getting you like it were a real, live cat chasing after you.
You hate clothes and spend a good part of each day as n@ked as a jay-bird. It really is something to see a n@ked girl flop herself onto her brothers skate board and scoot herself across the kitchen like super man. You've also perfected the art of n@ked-couch-flopping. This involves removing all the pillows from the couch, yelling "fi-fi" (excuse me) at the top of your lungs until any bodies that dared sit upon said couch move to another location, and then climbing onto the arm, standing up, and belly flopping onto the seat. You get extra points if you roll off the seat and onto the pillows that litter the floor from step one.
You've decided your sister is a good royal subject, and have decided she should be allowed to share your air. This was a wise decision on your part, your bubba loves you, but he's not nearly as cute in a princess dress. They both wait on you hand and foot, and I have to say, you owe them big-time. You are a fickle playmate and they are very patient with your impatience.
You are the best entertainment we've ever had. Watching you do crunches with me is enough to send us all into fits of laughter. When you get into trouble, you run to your room, scream for 5 minutes or so, and return as though nothing at all ever happened. We let our phones ring extra long just so we can watch you dance. You sing yourself to sleep each night and fill our world with a cuteness that is so blinding that we forgive you all your tantrums.
You are the best surprise we ever got. Happy Birthday little J.
Monday, September 18, 2006
I Lied
I can't stay away. I'll go MIA tomorrow though.
I have to tell you about today's t-ball practice. K decided to play t-ball with her good friend S. K and S have been buddies since they were just babies. S's dad coached B last year during fall ball and had strict orders from S to make sure he got K on the t-ball team. He really is a peach of a coach, spends tons of time with the kids, really works with them and most importantly, he builds up their confidence and makes them feel really special. So today, we got to practice a few minutes early (I know, don't fall over from the shock) and he took the opportunity to work with S and K on their batting. As he was giving K some of the finer points of getting her feet set, she listened intently and did a great job of doing just what he asked. She hit a few balls and he continued to help her make fine adjustments and she hit a few more. He showed her a couple little tricks to help her pivot on her back foot, including giving her a "bug" to "squish" under her toe to help her remember, and he showed her how to get her bat back up over her shoulder. She listened intently to all of this, did exactly what she was supposed to, then she looked him right in the eye and said, "And we're supposed to get the red belt, huh?"
It really is all about the accessories.
I have to tell you about today's t-ball practice. K decided to play t-ball with her good friend S. K and S have been buddies since they were just babies. S's dad coached B last year during fall ball and had strict orders from S to make sure he got K on the t-ball team. He really is a peach of a coach, spends tons of time with the kids, really works with them and most importantly, he builds up their confidence and makes them feel really special. So today, we got to practice a few minutes early (I know, don't fall over from the shock) and he took the opportunity to work with S and K on their batting. As he was giving K some of the finer points of getting her feet set, she listened intently and did a great job of doing just what he asked. She hit a few balls and he continued to help her make fine adjustments and she hit a few more. He showed her a couple little tricks to help her pivot on her back foot, including giving her a "bug" to "squish" under her toe to help her remember, and he showed her how to get her bat back up over her shoulder. She listened intently to all of this, did exactly what she was supposed to, then she looked him right in the eye and said, "And we're supposed to get the red belt, huh?"
It really is all about the accessories.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Short, Quick Update
Not the best picture, but you get the idea. My uber talented friend, Zmom helped me line the shawl I found and we attached the sash at the edge, so it matches perfectly. Finally, we attached little clips on the inside that attach to the dress so it won't go flying off in a stiff breeze.
And I got an A on my test! I won't have much time this next week, so, see you when I get back from Freaky People Town.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Mythbusting Mom Style
We love Mythbusters around here, and I recently did some myth-busting of my own. You know how you're supposed to wait until the dew "burns off" the grass to mow? The story is, that if you try to mow the grass while wet, the blades won't cut it. Well, I'm in a huge time crunch for the next two weeks, and so I put this myth to the test and mowed my grass in.the.rain. I can tell you that the blades cut just fine, and here are a couple more things I learned while busting this myth:
1. Rain in Texas ceases being warm when the temperature reaches below ninety.
2. Everyone who drives by waves when they see you mowing your grass in the rain. Then they laugh and point.
3. You children take their cue from you that they should also play in the rain.
4. When the water keeps running into your eyes, it is perfectly acceptable to get yourself an umbrella.
5. The mower doesn't like large puddles, slows the blades down a lot. And don't forget where the doggy holes are, those aren't just big puddles and mowers are heavy when they are buried to the axle in mud.
Also, the dress came. Round two, and this time it zipped. Huge step in the right direction. I tried it on with the "fixes" I found and I can't wait to post pictures! I need to make things permanent first, but once I work my magic, you will be AMAZED girls, just amazed! I'm so relieved.
I also took my first Biology test last night. I decided that maybe I should study. This is not something I've ever done before, this study...thing. About halfway through studying, I got to thinking, "What if college really is harder?" "I'm going to have to memorize all these terms?" "What was I thinking?" I then made the mistake of looking up the course in the catalog. The class I took is for science majors. How did I overlook that?! I got to class early, and apparantly, I wasn't the only one who was worried. Half the class was there quizzing each other. He handed out the test and I got to work. Halfway through I was practically singing. If I were not a happily married woman, I would have considered kissing my instructer. I'll find out whether I got an A or a B on Thursday.
1. Rain in Texas ceases being warm when the temperature reaches below ninety.
2. Everyone who drives by waves when they see you mowing your grass in the rain. Then they laugh and point.
3. You children take their cue from you that they should also play in the rain.
4. When the water keeps running into your eyes, it is perfectly acceptable to get yourself an umbrella.
5. The mower doesn't like large puddles, slows the blades down a lot. And don't forget where the doggy holes are, those aren't just big puddles and mowers are heavy when they are buried to the axle in mud.
Also, the dress came. Round two, and this time it zipped. Huge step in the right direction. I tried it on with the "fixes" I found and I can't wait to post pictures! I need to make things permanent first, but once I work my magic, you will be AMAZED girls, just amazed! I'm so relieved.
I also took my first Biology test last night. I decided that maybe I should study. This is not something I've ever done before, this study...thing. About halfway through studying, I got to thinking, "What if college really is harder?" "I'm going to have to memorize all these terms?" "What was I thinking?" I then made the mistake of looking up the course in the catalog. The class I took is for science majors. How did I overlook that?! I got to class early, and apparantly, I wasn't the only one who was worried. Half the class was there quizzing each other. He handed out the test and I got to work. Halfway through I was practically singing. If I were not a happily married woman, I would have considered kissing my instructer. I'll find out whether I got an A or a B on Thursday.
Monday, September 11, 2006
9-11
Just wanted to take a moment and say that I remember.
We had just moved to Texas. I was listening to the radio while I dropped the kids off at school. The DJ's were confused, no one knew how a pilot could have made such a mistake. I got back to the house and decided to wash the car since hubster and the little kids weren't up yet. As I washed, I listened and as it became clear we were under attack, I went inside to turn on the TV. We watched as the towers fell. We moved around that day in a dream-like state. I remember hearing fighter jets roar over the house, and running outside to see if there were new horrors that weren't yet on the TV.
We watched National Geographic's special tonight, and the images were as horrifying today as they were five years ago.
Yes, I will always remember.
We had just moved to Texas. I was listening to the radio while I dropped the kids off at school. The DJ's were confused, no one knew how a pilot could have made such a mistake. I got back to the house and decided to wash the car since hubster and the little kids weren't up yet. As I washed, I listened and as it became clear we were under attack, I went inside to turn on the TV. We watched as the towers fell. We moved around that day in a dream-like state. I remember hearing fighter jets roar over the house, and running outside to see if there were new horrors that weren't yet on the TV.
We watched National Geographic's special tonight, and the images were as horrifying today as they were five years ago.
Yes, I will always remember.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Home School Picture Day
Remember school picture day? It's been a looooooong time since we've done school pictures. I hated that they were so expensive and didn't turn out that great. So we started taking the kids to Sears, they take a fun photo and they used to mail out SUPER good coupons. $8.99 packages packages seem to be a thing of the past now though. So I thought I'd try my hand at some pictures for the quickly growing clan. Notice K's first missing tooth?
Some other favorites are on the Drop Shots bar. The one where J is looking down would look great in B&W. Have a great Friday!
Some other favorites are on the Drop Shots bar. The one where J is looking down would look great in B&W. Have a great Friday!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Another Official Post
I'm renewing my love of meal planning and once every week or two cooking. Frankly, once a month cooking has never really worked for me, and I'm OK with that. I know Gabriella used to do Freezer Food Friday, so her blog is a great place for some recipe's and ideas to get your juices flowing. I'll post a couple recipe links, but today, I'm going to focus on my method:
Break it down: Think of your month in terms of weeks. A week is really just 5 days. 5 big meals for each day of the work/school week, one day to eat left-over’s and one day to cook what you’re “in the mood” for. The beauty of creating a meal plan, is that you can re-use it indefinitely! The biggest tip I can give you is to get in a routine. Try to plan your menu, shop, and prepare foods at the same time each day, week and month. I usually don't worry too much about lunches. I buy sandwich stuff, keep mac and cheese on hand and occasionally make up a batch of chicken salad people can use during the week. Lunch kind of falls into place around here.
Get the right tools: You will need:
3X5 index cards
Pen
Calendar
Zip-lock Bags, every size from Sandwich to 2 Gallon.
Sharpie Marker
Tin Foil
Waxed Paper
Sharp knives
At least two cutting boards
Large pans/platters
Groceries!
Get a game plan!
Start with a clean kitchen. Always. If your kitchen sink is full of dishes, you will not feel like cooking and adding to the mess. Once you have a clean work area, drag out your calendar, pen, 3X5 cards and recipe box. Sit down and give yourself plenty of room. Look at your month and see where events like birthdays, late meetings and unusual circumstances fall. I recommend planning at least a week at a time, the more planning you do, the less time you’ll spend overall.
GO!: On each card, list a dish you’d like to serve for breakfast, and a meal you’d like to serve for dinner. Keep in mind your calendar needs, and realize that we are going to prepare dinner once, maybe twice, a week! The only meals you’ll make during the week will be breakfasts. For your dinners, focus on meals that will freeze and reheat well. This isn’t as difficult as it sounds. Marinated meats are a staple in our household.
Make up about 14 cards with breakfast/dinner combinations to start. As you go, use one card to make your shopping list for purchasing the groceries you’ll need.
Stick to the plan!: Whether you plan to cook and shop weekly, bi-weekly, or monthly, it pays to have at least one month worth of completed index cards. Even if you choose to go to once a month cooking, it will still payoff to spend 20-30 min each week making sure your plan is in order and you have everything on hand that you need. During your planning session, once you have several cards made up, all you have to do is re-mix the cards and you have a brand new menu!
When it’s time to go to the store, start with a clean fridge and pantry. I usually try to plan my shopping day so that I can do the bulk of my prep work when I put the groceries away. Before I leave for the store, I set up several work area’s with the recipes and equipment I’ll need when I get back, and I make sure I will have room in my fridge and freezer to store them. When I return from the store, the meats are placed in one area, the dairy products put away and I prepare the meat dishes before I put them in the fridge or freezer. I don’t always cook each one, marinated meats are dumped in a pan or put on the grill the night they are served, mini meat loaves and stuffed chicken and pork chops are individually frozen, uncooked, on waxed paper in jelly roll pans, then transferred to ziplock bags until the night before they are needed. If I make dishes where the meat is in sauce or might not freeze well, I will go ahead and cook them, then store them in ziplock bags in the fridge, and just use them early during the week.
Some recipe's to get you started:
Salisbury Steak I make this into meatballs and cook before freezing or refrigerating.
Stuffed Chicken CutletsThe dark horse I didn't expect the family to go nuts over. These are SOOOOOO good.
Pamela on Recipe Zaar Has a bunch of recipe's for OAMC, the chicken cutlets came from her, and we also loved the Honey Glazed Dump chicken.
Amish Baked Oatmeal Don't forget breakfast! I make this with regular oats instead of quick, use 25% less sugar than called for, double the amount and cook overnight on low in the crock pot. To die for. My kids think it's dessert.
Break it down: Think of your month in terms of weeks. A week is really just 5 days. 5 big meals for each day of the work/school week, one day to eat left-over’s and one day to cook what you’re “in the mood” for. The beauty of creating a meal plan, is that you can re-use it indefinitely! The biggest tip I can give you is to get in a routine. Try to plan your menu, shop, and prepare foods at the same time each day, week and month. I usually don't worry too much about lunches. I buy sandwich stuff, keep mac and cheese on hand and occasionally make up a batch of chicken salad people can use during the week. Lunch kind of falls into place around here.
Get the right tools: You will need:
3X5 index cards
Pen
Calendar
Zip-lock Bags, every size from Sandwich to 2 Gallon.
Sharpie Marker
Tin Foil
Waxed Paper
Sharp knives
At least two cutting boards
Large pans/platters
Groceries!
Get a game plan!
Start with a clean kitchen. Always. If your kitchen sink is full of dishes, you will not feel like cooking and adding to the mess. Once you have a clean work area, drag out your calendar, pen, 3X5 cards and recipe box. Sit down and give yourself plenty of room. Look at your month and see where events like birthdays, late meetings and unusual circumstances fall. I recommend planning at least a week at a time, the more planning you do, the less time you’ll spend overall.
GO!: On each card, list a dish you’d like to serve for breakfast, and a meal you’d like to serve for dinner. Keep in mind your calendar needs, and realize that we are going to prepare dinner once, maybe twice, a week! The only meals you’ll make during the week will be breakfasts. For your dinners, focus on meals that will freeze and reheat well. This isn’t as difficult as it sounds. Marinated meats are a staple in our household.
Make up about 14 cards with breakfast/dinner combinations to start. As you go, use one card to make your shopping list for purchasing the groceries you’ll need.
Stick to the plan!: Whether you plan to cook and shop weekly, bi-weekly, or monthly, it pays to have at least one month worth of completed index cards. Even if you choose to go to once a month cooking, it will still payoff to spend 20-30 min each week making sure your plan is in order and you have everything on hand that you need. During your planning session, once you have several cards made up, all you have to do is re-mix the cards and you have a brand new menu!
When it’s time to go to the store, start with a clean fridge and pantry. I usually try to plan my shopping day so that I can do the bulk of my prep work when I put the groceries away. Before I leave for the store, I set up several work area’s with the recipes and equipment I’ll need when I get back, and I make sure I will have room in my fridge and freezer to store them. When I return from the store, the meats are placed in one area, the dairy products put away and I prepare the meat dishes before I put them in the fridge or freezer. I don’t always cook each one, marinated meats are dumped in a pan or put on the grill the night they are served, mini meat loaves and stuffed chicken and pork chops are individually frozen, uncooked, on waxed paper in jelly roll pans, then transferred to ziplock bags until the night before they are needed. If I make dishes where the meat is in sauce or might not freeze well, I will go ahead and cook them, then store them in ziplock bags in the fridge, and just use them early during the week.
Some recipe's to get you started:
Salisbury Steak I make this into meatballs and cook before freezing or refrigerating.
Stuffed Chicken CutletsThe dark horse I didn't expect the family to go nuts over. These are SOOOOOO good.
Pamela on Recipe Zaar Has a bunch of recipe's for OAMC, the chicken cutlets came from her, and we also loved the Honey Glazed Dump chicken.
Amish Baked Oatmeal Don't forget breakfast! I make this with regular oats instead of quick, use 25% less sugar than called for, double the amount and cook overnight on low in the crock pot. To die for. My kids think it's dessert.
They CAME!
B feels like an official 2nd grader now.
We've been getting "official" around here a lot lately.
We'll be your "official" source of all things mundane and boring. Boring is good. Baseball starts tomorrow. That will not be boring.
I did find a fun steal for my new t-ball girlie:
Yes, a PINK t-ball helmet. On clearance for $2 at Wally Mart. I am so sad I didn't buy the pink and robin's egg blue mitt they had on clearance two months ago. I'm almost secretly hoping her brother's old cleats won't fit. Yes, they make PINK cleats. I know. It's a sickness, really.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I Didn't Die!
I felt yuck-o-la most of last week, but awoke on Monday to a much better feeling self. Now the crud is working it's way through the fam, but hopefully the kids will be spared the worst of it. Thanks for the kind comments, even while I let my blog reading go to pot.
College is making me feel old! In my REMEDIAL math class last week, we were discussing mean and median and I, being the accounting minded individual that I am, asked when we'd even really care about median. The teacher who, is obviously well versed in the meaning of REMEDIAL, offered the example of purchasing a house in a neighborhood with fairly consistant property values and one odd-ball, high property value. Gotcha. Then a bubble blowing, Gucci bag toting, flip-flop wearing little gal on the back row piped up, and this is what she said:
"As a woman, and as a shopper, median means a lot to me, so that I buy items that are reasonably priced and I don't overspend on like items."
OK. Whatever.
Two minutes later, we're handed a worksheet:
"Bob's electricity bills for January, February and March were $178, $295, and $150, what is Bob's average electricity bill for these three months."
Here's the conversation that went on in my head:
"As a responsible, bill paying adult, it would be a cold day in Pergatory before I gave one moment's thought to the median in this equation. In fact, it's been so long since I had the need to think of anything other than bill paying and budgeting, it's no wonder my poor little brain rejected the idea of using a median."
And it was then that I KNEW:
I am an official grownup.
I think like one. I look like one. I act like one, and best of all, I'm OK with being one. Perception is everything.
College is making me feel old! In my REMEDIAL math class last week, we were discussing mean and median and I, being the accounting minded individual that I am, asked when we'd even really care about median. The teacher who, is obviously well versed in the meaning of REMEDIAL, offered the example of purchasing a house in a neighborhood with fairly consistant property values and one odd-ball, high property value. Gotcha. Then a bubble blowing, Gucci bag toting, flip-flop wearing little gal on the back row piped up, and this is what she said:
"As a woman, and as a shopper, median means a lot to me, so that I buy items that are reasonably priced and I don't overspend on like items."
OK. Whatever.
Two minutes later, we're handed a worksheet:
"Bob's electricity bills for January, February and March were $178, $295, and $150, what is Bob's average electricity bill for these three months."
Here's the conversation that went on in my head:
"As a responsible, bill paying adult, it would be a cold day in Pergatory before I gave one moment's thought to the median in this equation. In fact, it's been so long since I had the need to think of anything other than bill paying and budgeting, it's no wonder my poor little brain rejected the idea of using a median."
And it was then that I KNEW:
I am an official grownup.
I think like one. I look like one. I act like one, and best of all, I'm OK with being one. Perception is everything.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
My Big Day
I am officially a college student. Here's how the first day went:
6:45- Woke up. As in, A.M. Yes, I know, shocking, really.
7:00- Dressed and presentable, I sat down to breakfast and a short assignment for my online english class.
7:30- Wondered why Hubster's phone alarm sounded different.
7:31- Wondered why Hubster was roaming the house, nekkid.
7:32- Searching house for D's folder. Secretly hoping Hubster got a taste of why I don't drag children out of bed. Ever.
7:35- Leave Hubster looking for missing folder.
7:40- Wonder how many light changes I'll sit through before I get to turn the corner.
7:50- Think to self, "Self, you should maybe get out of the house earlier"
7:51- Park car and hike approximately 4 miles up hill in thesnow blazing sun humid early dawn.
7:59- Walk into mostly full class room and take a seat behind large youth wearing a baseball cap.
7:59:30- Realize I should have studied and tried to pass to a higher Math placement. Remedial math=remedial student types. Got that equation down just DANDY Mr. College Professor, sir.
8:05- What's that sickeningly sweet smell?
8:10- Large youth with baseball cap seems to be sweating now, the smell is getting stronger.
8:15- Realize that I am either going to throw up, or pass out, or both.
8:16- Entertain the thought that I might be having a panic attack instead.
8:17- Realize that, no, I am in fact, about to throw up.
8:17:10- The air conditioning kicks on.
8:17:30-8:45- Squirm uncomfortably through a remedial fractions lesson.
8:50- Class dismissed. I go searching for something to ease my discomfort and sooth my throat, which I now realize feels like I've swallowed sandpaper.
9:00- Watch Coke machine take my last four quarters and fail to dispense my much needed beverage.
9:15-10:15- Endure arrogant Professor of history bumbling through class rules and trying to crack jokes, even trying to make one at MY expense. Briefly wonder if the first day of class is a good time to tell a Professor to get over himself.
10:16- Flee to the comfort and safety of my car, at least it was downhill this time.
10:50- Walk through door and tell Hubster I'm going to bed, and no, that's not an invitation.
11:00-3:30- Sleep the fitful sleep of fever and chill, trying to ignore the small people who are circling my bed like a pack of vultures.
3:30- Realize the house is quiet. Hubster took the kids out.
4:30- Pop dinner in the oven. Lie on couch wishing for the world to end.
5:30- Shower and re-dress for round two.
6:00- Buy Cherry Vanilla Coke at convienience store.
6:20- Stroll to class. Uphill, but only two miles this time.
6:25-9:15- Enjoy Biology lecture and think all classes should be night classes or internet classes.
9:20- Drive home.
9:25- Coughing fit.
9:25:15- Hit curb.
9:25:18- Listen to the sickening, thud, thud, thud, of a tire with no air in it.
9:26- Call Hubster and break the news.
9:27- Lower spare, jack up car, take off tire.
9:40- Hubster finishes job for me, and doesn't even complain that I stayed in bed all day, then ruined a brand new Michelin tire.
Lucky for me, road hazard warranty also covers "stupid", so the tire was replaced this morning at nominal cost, but I think I'll try to have a better day tomorrow, if it's all the same to you! We rested and took it easy today, and aside from the dagger that must surely be sticking out of my tonsil, I feel much, much better. So I'm off to bed early and I'll try to give you a happy post sometime in the near, near future!
6:45- Woke up. As in, A.M. Yes, I know, shocking, really.
7:00- Dressed and presentable, I sat down to breakfast and a short assignment for my online english class.
7:30- Wondered why Hubster's phone alarm sounded different.
7:31- Wondered why Hubster was roaming the house, nekkid.
7:32- Searching house for D's folder. Secretly hoping Hubster got a taste of why I don't drag children out of bed. Ever.
7:35- Leave Hubster looking for missing folder.
7:40- Wonder how many light changes I'll sit through before I get to turn the corner.
7:50- Think to self, "Self, you should maybe get out of the house earlier"
7:51- Park car and hike approximately 4 miles up hill in the
7:59- Walk into mostly full class room and take a seat behind large youth wearing a baseball cap.
7:59:30- Realize I should have studied and tried to pass to a higher Math placement. Remedial math=remedial student types. Got that equation down just DANDY Mr. College Professor, sir.
8:05- What's that sickeningly sweet smell?
8:10- Large youth with baseball cap seems to be sweating now, the smell is getting stronger.
8:15- Realize that I am either going to throw up, or pass out, or both.
8:16- Entertain the thought that I might be having a panic attack instead.
8:17- Realize that, no, I am in fact, about to throw up.
8:17:10- The air conditioning kicks on.
8:17:30-8:45- Squirm uncomfortably through a remedial fractions lesson.
8:50- Class dismissed. I go searching for something to ease my discomfort and sooth my throat, which I now realize feels like I've swallowed sandpaper.
9:00- Watch Coke machine take my last four quarters and fail to dispense my much needed beverage.
9:15-10:15- Endure arrogant Professor of history bumbling through class rules and trying to crack jokes, even trying to make one at MY expense. Briefly wonder if the first day of class is a good time to tell a Professor to get over himself.
10:16- Flee to the comfort and safety of my car, at least it was downhill this time.
10:50- Walk through door and tell Hubster I'm going to bed, and no, that's not an invitation.
11:00-3:30- Sleep the fitful sleep of fever and chill, trying to ignore the small people who are circling my bed like a pack of vultures.
3:30- Realize the house is quiet. Hubster took the kids out.
4:30- Pop dinner in the oven. Lie on couch wishing for the world to end.
5:30- Shower and re-dress for round two.
6:00- Buy Cherry Vanilla Coke at convienience store.
6:20- Stroll to class. Uphill, but only two miles this time.
6:25-9:15- Enjoy Biology lecture and think all classes should be night classes or internet classes.
9:20- Drive home.
9:25- Coughing fit.
9:25:15- Hit curb.
9:25:18- Listen to the sickening, thud, thud, thud, of a tire with no air in it.
9:26- Call Hubster and break the news.
9:27- Lower spare, jack up car, take off tire.
9:40- Hubster finishes job for me, and doesn't even complain that I stayed in bed all day, then ruined a brand new Michelin tire.
Lucky for me, road hazard warranty also covers "stupid", so the tire was replaced this morning at nominal cost, but I think I'll try to have a better day tomorrow, if it's all the same to you! We rested and took it easy today, and aside from the dagger that must surely be sticking out of my tonsil, I feel much, much better. So I'm off to bed early and I'll try to give you a happy post sometime in the near, near future!
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Making Yogurt
Since a Stephanie and Nettie asked, here's the method for making yogurt with your powdered milk storage.
2 C Warm water
1 C Non-instant powdered milk
2 T yogurt starter (unflavored commercial yogurt)
Whip this all up together, in the blender or by hand, just get all the lumps out, then pour into glasses or jars. Place jars neck deep in a pan in warm (100 degree) water. COver pan with lid. Then, put the whole thing somewhere where a temperature between 100-200 degrees can be maintained. I used my attic, then my oven as it was cooling down from making cookies when the attic cooled down. It doesn't have to be precise, just don't get it too hot or you'll kill the cultures. They say it should be set in 4 hours. Ethel's recipe says to leave in warm oven overnight. I say, check it after 4 hours and go from there. It's safe for it to be out for up to 12 hours.
To make cream cheese, you pour the yogurt into cloth, I used one of Hubsters hankies, (yes, it was clean and new!) tied it shut with a rubber band and hung it over the sink. I can't say I'm thrilled with the result yet. I haven't had time to make spinach dip. I can say that my pint of yogurt didn't yield a whole lot of cream cheese.
Nettie, to make ricotta, you're supposed to squeeze the yogurt, I assume while it's in the cloth, to expell the whey. How this differs from the cream cheese, I'm not sure, but that's what the book says!
The book I use is called Making the Best of Basics by James Talmage Stevens. It is a wonderful resource for planning and using your food storage.
Next I want to try cottage cheese and cheddar, but I have to find some rennet or junket tablets. I'm not sure where I'm going to find them other than Ethel's offer to give me some...
***Editing to add this link to the Mother Earth News which describes how to make your own yogurt maker. They also suggest adding a can of evaporated milk to the mixture, which sounds like it might be worth trying!
2 C Warm water
1 C Non-instant powdered milk
2 T yogurt starter (unflavored commercial yogurt)
Whip this all up together, in the blender or by hand, just get all the lumps out, then pour into glasses or jars. Place jars neck deep in a pan in warm (100 degree) water. COver pan with lid. Then, put the whole thing somewhere where a temperature between 100-200 degrees can be maintained. I used my attic, then my oven as it was cooling down from making cookies when the attic cooled down. It doesn't have to be precise, just don't get it too hot or you'll kill the cultures. They say it should be set in 4 hours. Ethel's recipe says to leave in warm oven overnight. I say, check it after 4 hours and go from there. It's safe for it to be out for up to 12 hours.
To make cream cheese, you pour the yogurt into cloth, I used one of Hubsters hankies, (yes, it was clean and new!) tied it shut with a rubber band and hung it over the sink. I can't say I'm thrilled with the result yet. I haven't had time to make spinach dip. I can say that my pint of yogurt didn't yield a whole lot of cream cheese.
Nettie, to make ricotta, you're supposed to squeeze the yogurt, I assume while it's in the cloth, to expell the whey. How this differs from the cream cheese, I'm not sure, but that's what the book says!
The book I use is called Making the Best of Basics by James Talmage Stevens. It is a wonderful resource for planning and using your food storage.
Next I want to try cottage cheese and cheddar, but I have to find some rennet or junket tablets. I'm not sure where I'm going to find them other than Ethel's offer to give me some...
***Editing to add this link to the Mother Earth News which describes how to make your own yogurt maker. They also suggest adding a can of evaporated milk to the mixture, which sounds like it might be worth trying!
Thursday, August 24, 2006
I Swear You Look Familiar
I've been busy making yogurt from my powdered milk storage! I finally left one batch alone long enough for it to work. The book says if it doesn't set in 4 hours it probably won't. They lied. Mine took about 9 hours, I think if you keep it hotter, it sets faster.
I swear I've seen something similar to the finished product in the bottom of a sippy cup that got pushed under the couch and forgotten. Ethel swears you can make it by just leaving milk on the counter. She is a much braver woman than I. Mine may LOOK like sour, milk-turned-jelly, but I put mine in my attic (where it's hot, hot, hot) so mine must surely be more than sour milk...right? It tastes pretty much like the plain yogurt I used for starter, and we all ate some several hours ago, and we aren't sick...yet. I declare it a sucess! We found that adding a touch of vanilla gets rid of the last of that "powdered milk" taste.
Now I'm moving on to making cheese. First I'm trying cream cheese since it can be made from the yogurt. Next, I want to try Ricotta, then I'll build a press and try cheddar!
I swear I've seen something similar to the finished product in the bottom of a sippy cup that got pushed under the couch and forgotten. Ethel swears you can make it by just leaving milk on the counter. She is a much braver woman than I. Mine may LOOK like sour, milk-turned-jelly, but I put mine in my attic (where it's hot, hot, hot) so mine must surely be more than sour milk...right? It tastes pretty much like the plain yogurt I used for starter, and we all ate some several hours ago, and we aren't sick...yet. I declare it a sucess! We found that adding a touch of vanilla gets rid of the last of that "powdered milk" taste.
Now I'm moving on to making cheese. First I'm trying cream cheese since it can be made from the yogurt. Next, I want to try Ricotta, then I'll build a press and try cheddar!
Monday, August 21, 2006
Monday Meltdowns
For me. Not the children. No, their job is to inform people who drop by unannounced with a child on their hip that they expect *moi* to babysit that, "Mom's crying because that dress didn't fit." Shuddapwouldja?
Yes, it seems that Mondays just aren't good days for me. Is it the vast expanse of the week stretching out before me? Or maybe it's the fact that I start my Mondays off with desk time, in which I attempt to be the Mom of All Bill Paying. Or maybe that in all this Mondayness, I just want to get to the library so I can see the unsmiling faces of the fat, old, kid-hating women they employ there.
*shrug*
Beats me.
So I really did have one of those days. It was the first day of school for D, who is in PS. And the first day of PS signals the day that I begin to berate myself if we don't achieve homeschool perfection. We schooled most of the summer, but in a funner, less worksheet-ed way. But alas, I must push my little darlings to get their very own writing callus and so back to the worksheets we go. I woke up early. Like 5 am early. And when you've only just gone to sleep at midnight, getting up early is not a good sign. Next, I made the mistake of checking over the bank thing, which led to the sudden need to deposit the paycheck. Back from the bank, DHL arrives. Ah. The Dress. Charming. I knew better than to try it on. I knew. Still. It's going back from whence it came.
So as I sniffled and blew my nose, and soothed my injured pride with a nice bowl of sugar cereal, a person really did show up at my door with a child on her hip expecting (not asking) me to watch said child. This child is a darling child, but J thinks he rips a hole in her time/space continum. He breaths her air, and, quite frankly, he LOOKS at her. Much screaming and pushing and pulling and hitting ensues. This is not a combination that I find compatible with homeschooling. I watched said child until she sent in the relief crew, but the damage was done.
When we arrived at the library, the newly potty converted person was soaked. Yes, the same one who went all day long at the museum with no accidents had an accident in the ten minutes it takes to drive to the library. Lucky me. I did have a back up pair of clothes that were only a little wet from the water bottle that leaked on them. The unsmiling lady informed me that they STILL haven't found the book that I returned and they lost. I'm serious. I really have looked everywhere and I SWEAR I remember seeing it in the book drop when I brought it back. So we got our goodies, and I must say, I loooooove the library when it's just me and the other homeschoolers. We smile our knowing smiles at each other and load up our laundry baskets with books. No one to point fingers at us or shush our children. Love it.
So I decided that it had already been a fairly cruddy start to the day, I'd finish it off like a band aid. Just rip it off real fast so I could go home and stay there until forced out. I went and bought my books for my classes that start next week. Get this. I had to SIGN A PAPER, that said I realized that the bookSTORE I was SHOPPING in and GIVING LARGE AMOUNTS OF MY MONEY TO, still OWNS the books and that I am BORROWING THEM. If I don't bring them back, I'll be held responsible.
Let me just give you a minute to wrap your mind around that.
Yeah.
I'm thinking that a great deal of my blogging time in the up coming months will be devoted to snarky comments about college. And I couldn't be more thankful that I did not schedule a single class on Mondays.
Yes, it seems that Mondays just aren't good days for me. Is it the vast expanse of the week stretching out before me? Or maybe it's the fact that I start my Mondays off with desk time, in which I attempt to be the Mom of All Bill Paying. Or maybe that in all this Mondayness, I just want to get to the library so I can see the unsmiling faces of the fat, old, kid-hating women they employ there.
*shrug*
Beats me.
So I really did have one of those days. It was the first day of school for D, who is in PS. And the first day of PS signals the day that I begin to berate myself if we don't achieve homeschool perfection. We schooled most of the summer, but in a funner, less worksheet-ed way. But alas, I must push my little darlings to get their very own writing callus and so back to the worksheets we go. I woke up early. Like 5 am early. And when you've only just gone to sleep at midnight, getting up early is not a good sign. Next, I made the mistake of checking over the bank thing, which led to the sudden need to deposit the paycheck. Back from the bank, DHL arrives. Ah. The Dress. Charming. I knew better than to try it on. I knew. Still. It's going back from whence it came.
So as I sniffled and blew my nose, and soothed my injured pride with a nice bowl of sugar cereal, a person really did show up at my door with a child on her hip expecting (not asking) me to watch said child. This child is a darling child, but J thinks he rips a hole in her time/space continum. He breaths her air, and, quite frankly, he LOOKS at her. Much screaming and pushing and pulling and hitting ensues. This is not a combination that I find compatible with homeschooling. I watched said child until she sent in the relief crew, but the damage was done.
When we arrived at the library, the newly potty converted person was soaked. Yes, the same one who went all day long at the museum with no accidents had an accident in the ten minutes it takes to drive to the library. Lucky me. I did have a back up pair of clothes that were only a little wet from the water bottle that leaked on them. The unsmiling lady informed me that they STILL haven't found the book that I returned and they lost. I'm serious. I really have looked everywhere and I SWEAR I remember seeing it in the book drop when I brought it back. So we got our goodies, and I must say, I loooooove the library when it's just me and the other homeschoolers. We smile our knowing smiles at each other and load up our laundry baskets with books. No one to point fingers at us or shush our children. Love it.
So I decided that it had already been a fairly cruddy start to the day, I'd finish it off like a band aid. Just rip it off real fast so I could go home and stay there until forced out. I went and bought my books for my classes that start next week. Get this. I had to SIGN A PAPER, that said I realized that the bookSTORE I was SHOPPING in and GIVING LARGE AMOUNTS OF MY MONEY TO, still OWNS the books and that I am BORROWING THEM. If I don't bring them back, I'll be held responsible.
Let me just give you a minute to wrap your mind around that.
Yeah.
I'm thinking that a great deal of my blogging time in the up coming months will be devoted to snarky comments about college. And I couldn't be more thankful that I did not schedule a single class on Mondays.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
When Mommy Blogs
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Six
Where has time gone, my girly girl? It seems like just a minute ago you were J's age. Swimming in your grandma's pool, and blowing out two candles on your Barbie cake. The one I melted in the oven after I had decorated it and used the oven to store it until the party, I had to frost it all over again, silly Mom!
You are my sweet and eager to please girl. You were going to be the baby of the family. I wonder sometimes if you feel a little lost, having been shoved into the role of a middle child. You are an awesome big sister, even though J resists your loving now, I just know you and she will be best friends someday. You're friends with everyone. No one can resist your sweet smile and kind heart. Your Sunday School teacher tells me, in secret of course, that you are her favorite. The music leader loves watching you sing your little heart out and always tells me what a well behaved, polite little girl you are.
You are super smart in school. You love to do your work, and you can already tell time all by yourself. You can count to 100 by ones, fives, tens and twenty-five. You know your addition facts almost as well as your brother and you love to copy things down in your "papers". Don't worry one little bit about your reading. You are almost there! You can read lots of the words, and when you find the confidence to sound things out, you're gonna light the world on fire.
I love that you still carry your "Rabbie" to bed with you. I remember the time that you noticed a hole in her and when I came to tuck you in, I covered you up and saw that Rabbie was not on your bed. When I asked you where she was, you told me, with great big tears in those liquid brown eyes that you folded her and put her on your dresser because you didn't want her to ever wear out. My heart just melted and I told you that Rabbie was made a long time ago for me by some people who had a whole lot of love in their hearts. They sewed all that love into Rabbie, and they meant for her to be loved by me, and then by my little girl. I told you that Rabbie was given to you to love, and that she was easily mended with a little more of the same love that went into making her. I took her off the dresser where you had placed her, and put her on top of your blankets, just like you always liked, and the very next morning, we got out my sewing machine and we fixed Rabbie together. We sewed her little edging back tight and made sure the pink rabbit that makes Rabbie be Rabbie was sewed up nice, and you danced all around the kitchen table. I used her again tonight to tuck you in, and I'm so glad she's still there for you to love. I know the day will come that you won't need her corner to rub on your little eye to help you drift off to sleep, and I think the morning you come into my bed without her, my heart will break into a million pieces.
You've always been my cuddler. I think you will be the one who will play with my hair and lie down with your head in my lap. When you were a baby, you refused to be put down. There were many days when I'd just hold you all day and most of the night. I didn't always appreciate that contact as much as I could have. I used to love to watch you sleeping in my arms. Until my arms ached and I thought they'd drop off from lack of circulation.
I love you so much it takes my breath away. I'm so lucky we get to be friends forever. I'll be the best mommy I can, and I hope you'll forgive my many shortcomings. I'll cherish the day your daddy gives you to the man of your dreams, I'll cry the day I hold your babies, and I'll always be here when you need a soft place to land. You and me babe. You're the girl I always knew I'd have and I'm so lucky and proud to be your mom. Happy sixth birthday K-lou.
You are my sweet and eager to please girl. You were going to be the baby of the family. I wonder sometimes if you feel a little lost, having been shoved into the role of a middle child. You are an awesome big sister, even though J resists your loving now, I just know you and she will be best friends someday. You're friends with everyone. No one can resist your sweet smile and kind heart. Your Sunday School teacher tells me, in secret of course, that you are her favorite. The music leader loves watching you sing your little heart out and always tells me what a well behaved, polite little girl you are.
You are super smart in school. You love to do your work, and you can already tell time all by yourself. You can count to 100 by ones, fives, tens and twenty-five. You know your addition facts almost as well as your brother and you love to copy things down in your "papers". Don't worry one little bit about your reading. You are almost there! You can read lots of the words, and when you find the confidence to sound things out, you're gonna light the world on fire.
I love that you still carry your "Rabbie" to bed with you. I remember the time that you noticed a hole in her and when I came to tuck you in, I covered you up and saw that Rabbie was not on your bed. When I asked you where she was, you told me, with great big tears in those liquid brown eyes that you folded her and put her on your dresser because you didn't want her to ever wear out. My heart just melted and I told you that Rabbie was made a long time ago for me by some people who had a whole lot of love in their hearts. They sewed all that love into Rabbie, and they meant for her to be loved by me, and then by my little girl. I told you that Rabbie was given to you to love, and that she was easily mended with a little more of the same love that went into making her. I took her off the dresser where you had placed her, and put her on top of your blankets, just like you always liked, and the very next morning, we got out my sewing machine and we fixed Rabbie together. We sewed her little edging back tight and made sure the pink rabbit that makes Rabbie be Rabbie was sewed up nice, and you danced all around the kitchen table. I used her again tonight to tuck you in, and I'm so glad she's still there for you to love. I know the day will come that you won't need her corner to rub on your little eye to help you drift off to sleep, and I think the morning you come into my bed without her, my heart will break into a million pieces.
You've always been my cuddler. I think you will be the one who will play with my hair and lie down with your head in my lap. When you were a baby, you refused to be put down. There were many days when I'd just hold you all day and most of the night. I didn't always appreciate that contact as much as I could have. I used to love to watch you sleeping in my arms. Until my arms ached and I thought they'd drop off from lack of circulation.
I love you so much it takes my breath away. I'm so lucky we get to be friends forever. I'll be the best mommy I can, and I hope you'll forgive my many shortcomings. I'll cherish the day your daddy gives you to the man of your dreams, I'll cry the day I hold your babies, and I'll always be here when you need a soft place to land. You and me babe. You're the girl I always knew I'd have and I'm so lucky and proud to be your mom. Happy sixth birthday K-lou.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
The Best Intentions
I've been dying to blog about this.
All the husbands in muchkin land have been being naughty. My friends have all had altercations with their spousal units this past week, and my turn came Monday. Hubster was a jerk. Yes girls, you read right, my perfect Hubster was a turkey butt to.me.
I finished my test yesterday, and things were still sort of tense. I was sulking. He deserved it. So he invited me to ride into the city on a couple errands, and I accepted. Tough to give someone the silent treatment if they aren't there, I figured, so, I'd make sure he knew he was getting the silent treatment.
Bless his heart, he took me to get a facial.
My husband NEVER says I'm sorry. Ever. Not the words anyway. So I recognize this as an extremely sweet and nice gesture. The sweetest and nicest thing he's done in a long time, in fact.
But if that were all there was to this story, I wouldn't be dying to blog about it, now would I?
So we pull up in front of the Howard Hinkle Building. Howard Hinkle Construction, Leasing Office, Meeting Hall, and BEAUTY SALON.
No, I'm not kidding.
Hubster asks if I want to come in or wait, I chose to wait in the car. I was suspicious, but I wasn't gonna ask him why we were four blocks from where he said we were going. What good is the silent treatment if you aren't, well, silent.
He returned a short while later and said it was going to take a minute, please come in.
We went down a narrow hallway, past the BEAUTY SALON to a door that said "Body By Penny" "Massage, Facials, " and I couldn't read the rest. We were greeted by a small, round, black woman. We went into a small, windowless room decorated in the 1970's, and not once since then. He then paid the woman and LEFT ME. I was led into an even smaller windowless room and instructed to take off the shirt, put on the sheet, and lie on the table. Um, OK then. The shirt off thing wasn't really too creepy, but as I looked around the yellowed linoleum looking for a place to leave my shoes, I noticed the yellowed towels and wondered how many sweaty bodies it actually TAKES to make white towels turn yellow.
When I had K, they gave me a drug to stop my labor so they could do a c-section. It messed with my mind. I remember thinking, "Hubster, get my shoes. I need my shooooooeeeesssss." There were no drugs to induce those thoughts yesterday.
Mind over matter, I told myself. I was there by myself, with no hope of escape, and by now I was actually chuckling over my husbands good intentions as I tried to ensure my personal safety.
I hopped on the table and this bubbly black woman came in and told me her life's story while she washed my face. She used some sort of rotary device, you know the kind you see in the back of magazines and on info-mercials? And she buffed and exfoliated and *sniff* is that Noxema I smell? I had the horrifying thought that the stone she was using to scrape off my face might also be the stone she uses to scrape the calluses off her clients feet, but I squeezed my eyes shut really, really tight and hoped for the best. It really wasn't completely horrible, as long as I haven't contracted some sort of rash that eats off half my face by next week, I'll start breathing again.
When Hubster came back to rescue pick me up, the silent treatment was over. He asked how it was, obviously, I couldn't bear to burst his bubble, so I started to laugh and tell him about it. Apparently, there were a few things he didn't think about. Fortunately, he wasn't offended when I told him that next time, I'd prefer to go to someone with a license for that sort of thing. While I am concerned that my husband thought that a part time security guard would be a suitable asthetician, I do have to be thankful that I have a husband that always, always believes the best about other people. Not in a "sucker" kind of way, but in a kind, non-judgmental way. It is one of his most endearing and admirable qualities and I'm so lucky he's mine.
Now WHERE did I leave those business cards from the day spa? I'm thinking I will tape one to my computer monitor to ward off any future attacks of uninformed kindness on the part of my husband.
All the husbands in muchkin land have been being naughty. My friends have all had altercations with their spousal units this past week, and my turn came Monday. Hubster was a jerk. Yes girls, you read right, my perfect Hubster was a turkey butt to.me.
I finished my test yesterday, and things were still sort of tense. I was sulking. He deserved it. So he invited me to ride into the city on a couple errands, and I accepted. Tough to give someone the silent treatment if they aren't there, I figured, so, I'd make sure he knew he was getting the silent treatment.
Bless his heart, he took me to get a facial.
My husband NEVER says I'm sorry. Ever. Not the words anyway. So I recognize this as an extremely sweet and nice gesture. The sweetest and nicest thing he's done in a long time, in fact.
But if that were all there was to this story, I wouldn't be dying to blog about it, now would I?
So we pull up in front of the Howard Hinkle Building. Howard Hinkle Construction, Leasing Office, Meeting Hall, and BEAUTY SALON.
No, I'm not kidding.
Hubster asks if I want to come in or wait, I chose to wait in the car. I was suspicious, but I wasn't gonna ask him why we were four blocks from where he said we were going. What good is the silent treatment if you aren't, well, silent.
He returned a short while later and said it was going to take a minute, please come in.
We went down a narrow hallway, past the BEAUTY SALON to a door that said "Body By Penny" "Massage, Facials, " and I couldn't read the rest. We were greeted by a small, round, black woman. We went into a small, windowless room decorated in the 1970's, and not once since then. He then paid the woman and LEFT ME. I was led into an even smaller windowless room and instructed to take off the shirt, put on the sheet, and lie on the table. Um, OK then. The shirt off thing wasn't really too creepy, but as I looked around the yellowed linoleum looking for a place to leave my shoes, I noticed the yellowed towels and wondered how many sweaty bodies it actually TAKES to make white towels turn yellow.
When I had K, they gave me a drug to stop my labor so they could do a c-section. It messed with my mind. I remember thinking, "Hubster, get my shoes. I need my shooooooeeeesssss." There were no drugs to induce those thoughts yesterday.
Mind over matter, I told myself. I was there by myself, with no hope of escape, and by now I was actually chuckling over my husbands good intentions as I tried to ensure my personal safety.
I hopped on the table and this bubbly black woman came in and told me her life's story while she washed my face. She used some sort of rotary device, you know the kind you see in the back of magazines and on info-mercials? And she buffed and exfoliated and *sniff* is that Noxema I smell? I had the horrifying thought that the stone she was using to scrape off my face might also be the stone she uses to scrape the calluses off her clients feet, but I squeezed my eyes shut really, really tight and hoped for the best. It really wasn't completely horrible, as long as I haven't contracted some sort of rash that eats off half my face by next week, I'll start breathing again.
When Hubster came back to
Now WHERE did I leave those business cards from the day spa? I'm thinking I will tape one to my computer monitor to ward off any future attacks of uninformed kindness on the part of my husband.
Drumroll Please....
I took my CLEP test to get out of Freshman English yesterday. My college doesn't accept the Freshman College English and Composition test like I thought. SO I got to take the regular version. I passed, and it really wasn't horrible at all. My score was actually on the higher end of the scale. So I have 3 college credits down, 60 more to go. Considering all the developmental math classes I get to take, I'll take my kudos where I can. I'm just excited I get to SKIP something in school!
Conversation With Daddy
K: "Daddy, my birthday is the DAY AFTER TOMORROW!!! What are you getting me for my birthday?!"
Hubster: "Hmmmm. How about....A JOB!"
K: "Noooo! Daaaaaaddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyy *insert greasy whine here*"
Hubster: "Oh, yes, I think a job is *just* what you need!"
K: "I can't have a job! I'm a princess! Princesses don't have jobs!"
Hubster: "Cinderella did. *I know*! You can be Cinderella!"
K: "That was NOT what I had planned."
Hubster: "Hmmmm. How about....A JOB!"
K: "Noooo! Daaaaaaddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyy *insert greasy whine here*"
Hubster: "Oh, yes, I think a job is *just* what you need!"
K: "I can't have a job! I'm a princess! Princesses don't have jobs!"
Hubster: "Cinderella did. *I know*! You can be Cinderella!"
K: "That was NOT what I had planned."
Monday, August 14, 2006
Please Tell Me...
*Disclaimer* If you are a member of my family, especially if you are my sister, you may want to skip this post. If you read it, you may not find it humorous, which it is intended to be. If you read it anyway, consider yourself forewarned and don't disown me, m'kay?
Please tell me that with a good corset, some sexy shoes and a little bit of duct tape you can survive any dress.
Please.
Pretty please with a cherry on top?
Yes, they do make it in a size 10.
No, I'm not sure making it in a size 10 is a good idea either.
I'm also not sure how a strapless dress is supposed to stay on boobies that now require strapping.
You have no idea how much I wish my sister were Mormon right now...
Please tell me that with a good corset, some sexy shoes and a little bit of duct tape you can survive any dress.
Please.
Pretty please with a cherry on top?
Yes, they do make it in a size 10.
No, I'm not sure making it in a size 10 is a good idea either.
I'm also not sure how a strapless dress is supposed to stay on boobies that now require strapping.
You have no idea how much I wish my sister were Mormon right now...
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Please Pray
*Edit to Update*
Handyman Bob is out of surgery, they *think* the retina is OK, they will replace the lens once the eye is stable. Thanks for all your kind thoughts and prayers. I really mean what I said about the safety goggles, glasses aren't enough. Handyman Bob was only driving a nail, no nail gun, just a hammer. He wears glasses, but the nail managed to flip back and get him anyhow.
Girls, if you'd be so kind as to put Handyman Bob in your prayers, I'd be really grateful. There was a handyman type accident this morning, he is being flown to a hospital in the city. If you have a handy guy, or are a handy girl yourself, please, please, please remember your safety goggles, even if you are just doing a routine task. We are praying for his life, his sight and his family. Thanks.
Handyman Bob is out of surgery, they *think* the retina is OK, they will replace the lens once the eye is stable. Thanks for all your kind thoughts and prayers. I really mean what I said about the safety goggles, glasses aren't enough. Handyman Bob was only driving a nail, no nail gun, just a hammer. He wears glasses, but the nail managed to flip back and get him anyhow.
Girls, if you'd be so kind as to put Handyman Bob in your prayers, I'd be really grateful. There was a handyman type accident this morning, he is being flown to a hospital in the city. If you have a handy guy, or are a handy girl yourself, please, please, please remember your safety goggles, even if you are just doing a routine task. We are praying for his life, his sight and his family. Thanks.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Water Tension
We decided to experiment with water tension today by making clay boats.
ONE boat
TWO boats
THREE boats
What the.....
And of course, now we have to sink the boats
ONE boat
TWO boats
THREE boats
What the.....
And of course, now we have to sink the boats
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Random Soup
Note to self:
When your toddler says "Taa Daaaaaah!", don't just absent mindedly repeat her and smile your self assured smile that your toddler, is the cutest toddler in the world. Especially when you've given her gum to keep her quiet in the library. You need to LOOK at the child. If the child is stringing gum around her head, one "Taa Daaaaah!" equals one lap around the head. Five "Taa Daaaaah!'s" is a LOT of gum to clean up.
Why Boys are Easier:
I was discussing K's guest list for her upcoming b-day party. I find myself only a week to party time, so I will be calling to invite people...again. So I asked her, "so you want to invite S, and A and K..." She interrupted me and said, "Well, S doesn't like A and A doesn't like S and K doesn't like S."
Wow. Um. OK. Sounds like I may want to have extra hands on deck to referee the clash of the six year olds.
"Well," I asked her, "what about C? You like her right?"
To which K replied, "Oh no! She doesn't like ANYONE! I don't know *what* has gotten into her."
I am dead meat.
And Finally:
I'm official. Well, they're going to let me park there, anyway.
When your toddler says "Taa Daaaaaah!", don't just absent mindedly repeat her and smile your self assured smile that your toddler, is the cutest toddler in the world. Especially when you've given her gum to keep her quiet in the library. You need to LOOK at the child. If the child is stringing gum around her head, one "Taa Daaaaah!" equals one lap around the head. Five "Taa Daaaaah!'s" is a LOT of gum to clean up.
Why Boys are Easier:
I was discussing K's guest list for her upcoming b-day party. I find myself only a week to party time, so I will be calling to invite people...again. So I asked her, "so you want to invite S, and A and K..." She interrupted me and said, "Well, S doesn't like A and A doesn't like S and K doesn't like S."
Wow. Um. OK. Sounds like I may want to have extra hands on deck to referee the clash of the six year olds.
"Well," I asked her, "what about C? You like her right?"
To which K replied, "Oh no! She doesn't like ANYONE! I don't know *what* has gotten into her."
I am dead meat.
And Finally:
I'm official. Well, they're going to let me park there, anyway.
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